Earl & Eliza Halls

GRAMPA’S FISHING AND HUNTING

It’s early at the crack of dawn
And everywhere you look
People are gathering into a crowd
To watch Grampa by the brook.

And then the air stirs with motion
As Grampa gets a bite
He then gives a tremendous jerk
To give the fish a fight.

Now the fish gets downright mad
And begins to swim and sway
But Grampa just grits his teeth
And begins to pull away.

Then you hear a great big splash
And you run down to look
You get there just in time
To see Grampa in the brook.

Oh, somewhere the sun is shining
And fishermen still play
But there is no joy in Grampa’s camp
For his seven-inch trout got away.

He can tell you in fractions
The length of any nail
But when he tells of the fish he missed
You’d think it was a whale.

But when it comes to hunting
Grampa’s got all the luck
He never leaves the hunting grounds
Without a big old buck.

But when Grampa drives Lorin’s jeep
You pray to God your thanks
That Grampa’s not behind the wheel
Of a group of Army tanks.

He’ll drive the jeep down in a hole
And we have to pull it out
Then while we do all the work
He’ll just sit around and shout.

Then when we finally get it out
He takes it and drives away
Looking for another hole
To drive it in some day.

We then limp back to camp
Feeling very tired and dead
We get there just in time
To find Grampa asleep in bed.

So ends a typical day of hunting
With all the things he’s done
But without Grampa along with us
We wouldn’t have any fun.

(Earl) In 1955 I had to be operated on to have my gall bladder out. Lost all my gall, and, of course, when a businessman loses his gall, he’s done. So there was no use of trying to run a business any more. I sold the business to Lorin on an escrow and it will not be long until he will have it all paid up.

I am not much good anymore. At the present time I am 78 years old. I have a few of my marbles left and I’m rolling them around. I’m getting by and doing a little work. I have to shovel a little snow and mow the lawns, but I’ve found that shovel handles and lawn mower handles were made to lean on quite often as you grow old. And that I do. On bad days, of course I have to take a little canker medicine to help me over the bumps and that way I get along quite well.
Over the years there’s been quite a number of changes. Times have been different. We’ve had more money to spend, and I don’t know if that’s a benefit or exactly what, but that’s the way it is. We’ve all driven better cars, I’ve gone fishing more, and I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the winter time going down to California to help Glenn out in the shop. I say helping him out, but I think he helped me out more because he did pay me a wage. But I did do some inventing and manufacturing for him that has saved him some money in his business. The last time I was down, in 1965, I developed arthritis, and I had a battle with that. I came home, had to go to a doctor, and he put me on pills. He had me eating six or seven pills a day until I went down, down, down in weight. I passed out one night, finally came to, and said, “Here goes the pills, no more pills.” Lorin said, “Dad, that’s the last of the pills for you.” And it has been. So I believe that canker medicine has them all beat. I did finally get over my illness. I used a cane for quite awhile.

Every so often we make a trip to Ogden to visit Lois. Lois is on her own with four kids to feed. We help her out when we can. A year or so ago, we went to her house to cut a hole in the side of a wall for her and put in sliding doors and a clothes closet. I had an accident; sawed my leg with a skilsaw and spent two or three months using the cane I inherited from my father. My inheritance from my father was his Bible and his cane. I’ve had call to use the cane several times, but I haven’t, as yet, used the Bible much. I’m going to read it sometime just to find out what it’s all about.

I have not mentioned much about Eliza, my wife, as the incidents in her life would be another story. However, she’s been along, she’s done her job, she’s worked hard, and she is a good wife. She’s kept the kids pretty well in line, and as far as I know, none of them have ever been in jail. Her influence and teachings have been good. I think the kids have turned out pretty well.

On July 24, 1968, my sister Ruth passed away. She’d had considerable heart trouble, and so on, since her husband died of cancer. Ruth was sort of pining herself away after he died and wasn’t having too much fun, but I think she got out of it without too much pain. So now, with Maude and Ruth dying within a year (the two younger sisters died a number of years ago), the boys are too darned ornery to have anything happen to them (Dale, Clyde, and myself.) So we have Nina. Nina is the only one left of the five girls.

When I look back, if I could change for a million dollars to start with, I wouldn’t. I’m well satisfied with my family, my wife, my brothers, and sisters. I won’t bore you bearing my testimony, but I feel that I’ve had a successful life. I’ve worked hard, but I’ve worked for a cause. And as for this history, I might add more later, but for now I’ll just say “God bless my family.”

(Joy) When Dad became ill, Mom was the one who took care of him. When it was necessary to take him to the hospital, Mom was worn almost to exhaustion. Grandpa passed away at the McKay Hospital in Ogden Utah on March 22, 1971 at the age of eighty.

(Lyle) A year after Dad’s death, Mother and her sister Dora traveled with a tour group to Palmyra, New York to attend the Hill Cumorah Pageant. This tour also took them through the L.D.S. Historic East following the old pioneer trail. Mother always wanted to travel to these areas, but Dad was never interested. The following year, 1973, she and Dora took another tour north through Montana into the Canadian Rockies. They visited the Canadian national parks of Banff and Jasper. They saw and visited the many glaciers between these two beautiful parks. Mother loved these trips and was thrilled to see different things and places. At Jasper she wanted to take the tram that went up to the top of the mountain, but Dora wouldn’t go, so Mother went without her. She said that danged if she was going to miss out just because Dora didn’t want to participate. She was a little disgusted with her sister, and said that Dora never got excited about anything on these tours. From the Rockies they went west to Vancouver, then home through Washington and Oregon. In 1975 at the age of 81 Mother again wanted to travel east to see the pageant so she talked two friends into taking the tour with her. This tour again followed the old Mormon Pioneer Trail with stops at Winter Quarters near Omaha Nebraska, then on to Chicago, and to Kirtland, Ohio to visit the Kirtland Temple, the first Temple erected by members of the L.D.S. Church in 1836. She again saw the Hill Cumorah pageant and visited many of the historical Church points of interest. This tour took Mother to New York City where she saw many of the sights, even took a boat tour around Manhattan Island. The tour included Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. where she was able to visit the many historical points of interest. Mother later took a temple tour south through Utah, Arizona, and Southern California, visiting the L.D.S. Temples in these areas.

(Joy) After Dad was gone, Mother decided now was the time to work on her genealogy. She would ride with friends to Ogden to do research and go to the temple. Sometimes she would stay with Aunt Dora for a couple of weeks at a time and do research at the church genealogy library in Ogden. Because of her work, there have been 438 baptisms performed along with endowments and sealings. This is in addition to the work Mother did while she was able to.

(Lyle) Mother, spent many, many hours doing research of her Danish ancestors. She would get a ride to Ogden and stay with her daughter, Lois or her sister, Dora. Then she would go to the genealogical library where she would obtain the microfilm records that she needed for her research. She was able to teach herself to read and understand enough Danish to allow her to accomplish what she had set out to do. Mother continued this work until she was 85 years old. At this time she said that she was unable to research back any farther.

Mother’s brother Elmer died February 1, 1974 at the age of 74. Her sister Dora died December 8, 1978 at the age of 82. This left Mother as the only surviving member of her family. She expressed the feeling that this should not be as they were both younger than she was.

It was about this time that she had completed her genealogical research so she contented herself with activities of the senior citizens, enjoying her home and flower gardens, reading and listening to recordings of the scriptures. Her right hip was bothering her and probably giving her some pain, although she didn’t complain. When asked about it, she would just rub her leg and say that this one didn’t want to go. In January 1983, she had a hip operation that was successful, and after a few weeks was able to walk with the use of a cane. The spring after her eighty-eighth birthday something happened to her mind where she could no longer comprehend what she read and her scripture recordings meant nothing to her. She gradually became disoriented to the extent that she could no longer live alone. She entered the Clearfield Convalescent Center in September 1983.

(Joy) Mother became homebound when her hip joint started to deteriorate and caused a lot of pain. She had a small stroke that made it so she could not tell one alphabet letter from another and she could no longer read. She later had another small stroke that confused her speech. Everything she said was backwards. When she meant “cat,” she said “dog,” a “boy” was a “man,” “hot” was “cold,” etc. I guess I about froze her to death in the shower until I realized that when she said it was too hot, she really meant it was too cold.

Because her hip kept getting more painful, we made arrangements for her to have surgery for a hip replacement. Wow! She had instant pain relief. I couldn’t keep her in bed after the surgery. After she left the hospital, we instructed her and showed her how to exercise by walking with her walker a certain distance each day. It was so good to watch her. She would pick up that walker with the legs about three or four inches from the floor and proudly walk the specified distance carrying the walker in front of her.

Mother didn’t stay in the convalescent center long. She lived her last years in the home of a family who cared for her. When I would visit, I could see she was happy. The children called her “Grandma” and the little children would sit on her lap. They all gave her a kiss on the cheek when they came or left. She felt very much at home. The lady who cared for her, Ginger, found out she liked iced tea and gave it to her all the time. Whether the tea made a difference or not, I don’t know, but in her last months, her mind was more clear and she even enjoyed watching television.

(Lyle) Today, October, 31, 1984, is Mother’s ninety-first birthday, and she is physically healthier than she has been for some time. We, her sons and daughters, reflect back through the years and remember the things that she has accomplished. We find ourselves comparing our energies to Mother’s when she was our age and wonder where she obtained her strength.

(Joy) In my opinion, Anna Eliza Winter Halls was a very special person. She was a good wife and even better mother. She has left her mark on all of her children and we are very fortunate to be able to call her “Mother.”

Grandma passed away on June 3, 1987. It’s interesting to note that Lyle passed away the same year as his mother, on December 10, 1987. They were both buried beside Grandpa and Elden in the Morgan Cemetery.

Post Script: On Monday, March 27, 2000, Glenn died at the age of eighty-five while flying a new gyrocopter. While in Morgan for his burial, Gene and Anna and their family stopped at a little variety store/antique shop on Main Street. There they met a man named Lyle W. Smith who is a “Cowboy Poet” and has written many poems. They mentioned that they were related to Earl Halls and he pulled out the following poem that he had written about Grandpa, a man he knew when he was young, and about the shop he remembered. Gene read the poem to us as we stood near Grandpa’s grave.

SWEAT AND STEEL

by Lyle W. Smith

He was the local blacksmith
A knowing man of zeal
I miss my friendly visits there
The hammer’s ring on steel

With sparks a flyin’ from the forge
The iron’s cherry glow
With tongs and hammer he would work
So much this man did know

He’d weld, or use the cutting torch
At times a white blue arc
Or put it to the grinding wheel
And throw a fancy spark

So many jobs that he would try
And fix it. . . good as new
Shape and hammer, punch a hole
Or make an iron shoe

From light till dark he labored
You never saw him shirk
Smoke and steel, tools and sweat
His shop did smell of work

He was an old man when I knew him
Quite muscular and tall
Always had a friendly smile. . .
Had pinups on the wall

He never said it. . . but it’s true
You use it till you break it
Just bring me in the broken part
I’ll fix it or I’ll make it

Long years have passed. . . this smithy too
Was his a nobler day
It seems to me. . . now all we do
Is use. . . and throw away.