Dad's Story Part 7

 Wieser Years Continued Again

My memories of Church activities in Wieser are rather dim.  There was a small ward of the Church there, which was part of the Boise Stake.  As I remember it the chapel was a white wood frame building, with a recreation hall.  There are only three things that stand out in my memory about the Ward, First, was going to Primary.  The only thing I remember about Primary was making a tie rack for my Dad in our handicraft activity.  Second, I remember being in a program at the Church and singing a duet with another boy.  The name of the song we sang was “Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Shean”.  The third memory was of a play that Mother and Dad participated in.  I remember going to some of the rehearsals with them. 

            A very popular form of home entertainment at this time was the phonograph.  It was a big event when Dad brought home a brand new Edison phonograph.  It had a red mahogany cabinet.  The turntable motor was powered by a spring that had to be hand wound with a crank.  The records were very thick, about 1/4 inch and were about ten inches in diameter.  The Edison phonograph had a diamond stylus or “needle” which was supposed to never wear out.  The machines were very well built and durable.

            Commercial radio broadcasting was in its infancy in the early 1920’s.  It was only a curiosity then, and did not become a popular form of entertainment until in the 1930’s.  I remember hearing the first radio in Wieser.  At that time they were cumbersome machines powered by batteries.  The models to come out did not have a loud speaker to produce the sound, only earphones. 

            At this time a very popular form of entertainment was the “silent” movies.  The “kids” would usually go on Saturday afternoon.  Some of my favorite actors were the cowboy star Bill Hart, Fatty Arbuckle, Harold Lloyd, and the “immortal” Charlie Chaplin.                  

Charlie Chaplin

Mom's Story Part 10

Dad’s Mission:

            One important part of my brother’s life was tied up with my story, for he was born two months after my father was called on a mission to England.  I can never understand my Mother’s willingness to let Dad accept that call when she was seven months pregnant, but that was the caliber of woman she was.  Dad had had some very successful road contracts, which had netted him a good sum of money so he had the means to keep himself three years in the mission field, but the burden of caring for the family and paying the bills at home rested on Mother’s shoulders.  The home was paid for, and much of the food was raised in the garden, but still there were expenses to be met.  She did this by keeping boarders in our home.  Many of the schoolteachers needed places to stay, as did students from other towns such as Joseph City and Heber.  The Westover boys all had a turn living in the basement of our home while they attended High School.  Their job was to do the chores – milk the cows, haul and cut the wood and keep the wood boxes full, and the fires burning and in return, they received their room and board.  Earl Westover still claims I’m his little sister.  Then there were the girls who lived upstairs who helped Mother set tables, do some of the cooking, wash the dishes and clean up.  Mother fed as many as twelve to fourteen extra people three times a day besides keeping her own little family.  Our family occupied the Sleeping Porch and her bedroom; the rest of the house was filled with Boarders.  It must have been quite an experience for Mother.  She gives a full account of it in her journal. 

            When the three years of my Father’s mission were up, Mother took a wonderful trip to New York City to meet Dad.  I have often tried to imagine that meeting.  Mother said she was standing on the top of a staircase at the Mission Home where she was staying, when Dad came in.  He looked up and saw her, and she said it took about three steps for him to reach her and gather her into his big strong arms.  What a reunion that must have been!  Mother was always the “light of his life”.  He adored her. 

            Scully was born while Dad was gone so he had never seen his little son, also Aunt Margaret had given birth to Waldo, just a month before Scully, so the Aunts dressed the two little boys up alike to have Dad choose which was his son.  It may have been a difficult decision, but Scully saw his mother coming up the walk and the look of recognition gave away the secret. 

            One of my earliest remembrances was in connection with my father’s mission.  I had been playing with a little strand of shell beads, which I dropped in Dad’s pocket during Church just before he left for his mission.  The beads accompanied him through England and often he said he took them out of his pocket and shed tears of lonesomeness over them.  When he returned he gave me back my little beads, I remember how overjoyed I was to get them. 

            I remember the beautiful wide-brimmed black velvet hat and high-heeled high-topped shoes Mother bought in New York.  The hat had feathers on it.  It was beautiful, and was used in plays for years as a costume.   The high-heeled shoes are on display at the Memorial Home.


Dad made many lasting friends while on his mission.  David O. McKay was the Mission President and Ezra Taft Benson was one of his companions.  These two great men kept in touch with Dad all of his lifetime.      

 **editorial note** I found this picture of family members gathered on the day Marion Rogers left for his mission.  I think he has his arm around Mayola and Leonora is standing on the right side of him looking so so sad.  I think Mom (Bess) is being held by a woman on the left side of the photo and Louise is the dark haired child in the front row.  ** if any one can help identify the other people it would be appreciated.**

Dad's Story Part 6

Eating Watermelon

                 The Wieser Years (continued)

None of the streets in town were hard surfaced in those days.  In order to keep the dust down, every day a sprinkler wagon would come around to wet down the streets.  We would get on our swimsuits and await the arrival of the sprinkler truck.  When it came we would go run behind it as far as we could getting a free shower bath.  

Bathing suit

Another interesting and cooling summer time treat was to jump on the back step of the “Ice Wagon” and scoop up chunks of chipped ice while the ice man was gone into a house delivering a big twenty-five to fifty pound block of ice to put into the ice refrigerator.  There were no electric refrigerators in those days.

Little Willie

            The younger generation may be interested in how the ice deliverymen operated.  In some communities where there was no ice plant where ice was manufactured, ice blocks were sawed from frozen lakes or rivers and stored in insulated icehouses for use the next summer.  I think Wieser had an ice plant where big blocks of ice about four feet long, two and three feet wide and about on foot think were frozen from pure water. The “ice man” would load his ice wagon, which was a horse drawn vehicle with solid sides and a roof over the top.  Only the back end was open.

Ice man 1920s

  There was a step on the back where the iceman stood to chip off with an ice pick a smaller block from the big block of ice.  Then there was always a spring scales attached to the back of the wagon where the chunk of ice hanging from the ice tongs could be weighed.   The ice man always had a heavy leather shoulder protector that was draped over their shoulders and hung down in the front and back to below the waist to serve as padding and keep the wet ice from soaking through their clothing.  The ice customer who needed ice would hang a sign in their window showing the number of pounds of ice they wanted. 

 Pratt Ice wagon

The ice man who soon became skillful in knowing the right size chunk to make certain weight would split a piece off with his ice pick.  Grab it with the ice tongs, hang it on the scales, and then throw the piece of ice onto his shoulders and trot into the house where he would place the piece of ice in the “ice box”, as they were commonly called. 

  Another thing I enjoyed doing in the summer time was to ride around the milk route on the horse drawn milk wagon with our milkman.  When he arrived at our house, I would run out to meet him.  He would usually invite me to climb aboard.  After a few trips around the route he would let me run into the houses with the milk bottles.  This gave him a needed rest, and made me feel real important.  An amazing thing about the milk route was that the horse knew where to stop without being told.  

Horse drawn milk wagon 1920s

            Another deliveryman that I used to ride with was a future relative of ours, Willard Ibey.  He drove a little two-wheel meat delivery cart, which was also horse drawn.  This cart was built something like a chariot, with a platform in the back to stand on.  In the front of the platform and between the two large wheels was a box with a hinged lid where the packaged meat was stored for delivery to the customers who had ordered it from the meat market. 

Mom's Story Part 9

Four Rogers Children
Louise, Mayola ,Bessie, Roscoe in front

My brother was named Marion Roscoe Rogers for his father.  He was born November 19, 1921.  As a child he was called “Roscoe”, but he didn’t like the name when he grew older.  In Snowflake all the kids in town had nicknames, and many of the nicknames in the Smith family came from my Uncle Lawrence, Mother’s youngest brother. Roscoe had dark brown hair that was more straight than curly and he tried to encourage his hair to lay down in a pompadour, but there were stubborn locks that refuse to conform, so mother made him a skullcap out of an old silk stocking.  That did the trick, so by plastering his wet hair down and keeping it there with the skullcap, he obtained the “in” look he was trying to achieve.  Uncle Lawrence soon dubbed him “Scully” and to this day that is the name he is known by.  He lives in Hawaii and operates a big real estate firm there, but the only name his friends know him by is “Scully”; even his stationery has the name.

Scully's Family
David, Lu holding Randy, Scully holding JeriLu, Scott (Suzie came later)

            I never remember, “fighting” with my brother and sisters.  Our home was very peaceful.  Scully loved to tease us, but he always knew how far he could go with our parents.  He was always lonesome for a brother and so adopted many of his cousins as “bosom buddies”.  He kept the trail well traveled from Uncle Jesse and Aunt Louie’s house to ours.  He, Roy, Earl, and Leland were together a great deal of the time.  Milo, another cousin, was a little younger.  His Rogers cousins also played an important part in his life.   He had a great capacity to attract friends and had hosts of them. 

Painting the fence...Scully on right

              We always had young calves in the corral.  One day my brother dared me to ride one.  He held the calf while I mounted it.  Then he gave the animal a twist of the tail and I went streaking out the corral with the calf bucking and kicking.  We headed down the lane at the barnyard, at break neck speed, out the gate, and down the street.  I can’t remember who rescued me, but I clung on for dear life.
     There are many experiences that crowd my memory about my brother; too many to relate, but one stands out clearly in my memory.  Scully was on his way down the sidewalk to play with Earl and Roy, when out of nowhere there appeared a little man with a white beard.  We knew everyone in Snowflake – but Scully had never seen his before.  He stopped Scully and said:  “Son, do you know the song, ‘I am a Mormon Boy’?”  “Yes,” said my brother.  “Sing it to me”, said the stranger.  So Scully, a little boy of six or seven sang the song for him, there on the sidewalk.  They said goodbye after the stranger patted him on the head and said:  “Always remember that.”  Scully ran on the extra half block to Aunt Louie’s house and told her about the incident.  She went out immediately, but could see no one.  No one else in town ever saw the stranger.  Scully always felt it was a visit from one of the Three Nephites left on the Earth from Book of Mormon days. 

            Another short remembrance of Scully was when President Heber J. Grant was staying in our home.  He sat Scully on his lap and said, “Son, when you get to be a man, tell your children you sat on the lap of President Heber J. Grant.”  He was only seven or eight years old. 

           I don’t want to dwell more on my brother and sisters even though they played an important part in my life, for my story will be too lengthy.  

M Roscoe Rogers in the Navy

M.R. Rogers 1940