In My Garden - Life History of Zelda L. Kline - Part 4

That first summer my Mama was sick a lot. She was a new widow, pregnant and she already had two other children. She had already lost a nine-month old baby girl, Esther Jeannette, a few years before and she seemed destined for more than her share of grief. Mama told us of the year that Esther Jeannette was born and died. We lived in the small mining town of Rolap near Castle Gate, Utah.

Castle Gate in 1974, days before its distruction

Both towns are gone now. I became very ill with pneumonia. She was pregnant at the time. The doctor told her I would probably not live. So she prayed to her Father in Heaven and begged him to spare me. "If one must return to you, take the one I do not know." Then, on a Sunday morning, the Mormon Elders came to the schoolhouse across the way to hold Sunday school. Someone there told them about my mother and they crossed the ravine to her small house and gave me a blessing. The story is that I began to recover immediately, even reaching for an egg she held in her hand over my crib. Though she was told over and over that God does not bargain with us, she somehow always believed that Esther Jeannette's death was because she had offered her back to God.

Sometimes it seemed that Grandma was too cross with her. I guess it was hard on both of them. The only fights I ever had with Grandma were when I would stand up for Mama's love of pretty things, but usually Grandma would go and find a pretty handkerchief or ribbon or she would crochet a pretty baby sweater for her afterwards.

William Arvel Brown was born in November and he became the absolute delight of Grandma and Grandpa. As a couple, they had never had any children of their own and, though Mark and I were treated with great love, this was a special child born under their roof and, by a kind of osmosis, their own.

One thing happened that winter that still makes me smile and love Grandma even more. She was so human. Mama decided that it was time she had a little fun and she went often with her friends over that holiday season. Grandma really didn't mind tending us children but she just liked to nag at Mama. Then the worst of her predictions happened. On New Year's Ever, Mama slipped and fell on the ice, breaking her leg. Grandma then had the full care of us all. She griped at Mama from morning until night. One afternoon she had just finished mopping her kitchen. She took a step onto the wet floor and slipped, falling flat on her back. She lay stunned for a moment and then she started to laugh loud and long. Mama looked at her, startled, but as Grandma rose to her feet, still laughing, Mama laughed too and there was peace between them, for a time.

Winter stayed a long time but finally Grandma's daffodils bloomed on the sunny side of the house. About then Mama received my father's World War I bonus and the Brostroms family over on 5th South in Preston sold her their small house. We had our own place again. Most of her things had been stored in Grandpa's barn and she really enjoyed putting them in place in her own home again.

As I have said, it was a small house. I remember there was a parlor and dining room with an arch between them in front. There was a kitchen in back with a large pantry on the east and a small bedroom on the west. Across the back was a screen porch. You had to go outside to go down into the cellar. In the spring, the cellar would fill with water. Everything had to be stored around the side on the ledges that were above the water level. I remember there was a goldenrod bush that flowered under the kitchen window. Later, when we extended the house out, that bush had to be moved, but it would not grow anywhere else. I truly missed seeing its sunshiny color from our kitchen table.

The house faced north. There was a yellow transparent apple tree and two big lilac bushes in front. In the back were apple trees and a coal shed that I could climb. The coal shed had a slanting roof with a trap door so that the coal truck delivering our coal could just let the coal slide through the trap door. It was my job to keep the coal bucket by the kitchen range filled.

Vick and Georgina Carlsen lived next door. They were good neighbors. Vick was Danish, Georgina was Irish and they always made life interesting for Georgina had an Irish temper. Their children ranged in age similar to our family and we played together for many years.

Grandpa came and helped us plant our garden. We also got our milk and eggs from Grandma. About this time, they moved to a new house that Great Grandma Hansen had built on 1st East, only a block from us. They had about three acres and Grandma loved her big new kitchen.

Life really changed for us that summer. Mama went with a friend to a birthday party in June. The party was for Evan Jones, "Barney" as his friends called him. On September 2, 1928, they went to Arco, Idaho with his brother, Jordan, and Jordan's wife, Bertha, and they were married. I remember the night they came home. Grandma was staying with us, but she couldn't get me to go to bed. I sat, straddling the kitchen chair with my head leaning against the back so I wouldn't go to sleep. When they finally arrived, Mama looked so pretty and happy I was happy too. It was "Barney" who led me to bed and helped tuck me in that night but he quickly became "Daddy".

Before too long, it was "Dad" I followed everywhere. I helped him dig the trenches to bury the cabbages upside down. They stayed crisp and fresh that way and were our "winter greens". I held the boards while he built a small barn for Lottie's calf that would freshen before spring. I went with him out to the sugar beet field that he had helped us grow on shares and which was ready for harvest.

Dad spent most of his life working for sugar factories. In those days there were no union hours. "Campaign" became a part of our lives. As soon as the beet harvest began, the sugar factory started operating twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It would keep doing so until the last of the harvest was processed into sugar. That was "Campaign".

Evan Jones and Sugar Factory Campaign Workers

The men worked 12-hour a day shifts every day of the week, including Sundays. The shifts ran from noon until midnight and from midnight until noon. Later the government would force them to eight hour shifts, but not during our Preston years. Dad was a "Sugar-end Foreman" and I was proud that my dad was a boss.

The wives started something I heard called the "Campaign Wives" club. They got together to play cards or gossip or eat. Mostly, I think, they ate. Everyone tried to outdo the others on the goodies. Mama was a marvelous cake baker and I'll talk more about that later. One year they had a costume Halloween party. They went downtown to show off and I tried to follow them and fell on the icy street. Dan Swainston, who wasn't a sugar man, picked me up and brought me home. He was a barber but his wife, Rita, was still a part of the wives' group. So was Ellen Tufts, whose husband ran the Grand Theater. Even after so many years, I remember them so well. I loved most of them dearly. There was Ellen Harmer, Donnie Poage, Lucille Christensen, Mrs. Light and her daughter Bonnie and Aunt Bea, Dad's brother Carl's wife. They were all quite young and, I believe, they were mostly happy during those few years when their children were small, before the world turned upside down.