A letter to my brother Jerry written from the mission home in Rio de Janeiro on Monday, December 23, 1968, with the postscript added on Wednesday, December 25.
Dear Jerry,
A year has quickly slipped by and Christmastime is already here again. I suppose its onward rush continuing, time will so quickly bring by the next two holiday seasons that my mission will be only history and I will be back reunited with loved ones—friends and family—in my beloved homeland. I guess it is but natural to feel a bit nostalgic (and homesick even) at this season of the year—and so I do. Were I kept constantly busy, which I’m not right now because of my foot, there would be no time to be homesick. But though such now is my unlucky lot, I will shortly recover.
The Johnson family is a great collection of wonderful people, and I am now blessed to share in their company this week. President Johnson is certainly a man of God. His wife is an angel, a perfect compliment to her husband, and a special mother. Their children, Daran (age 8), Jill (age 13), and Craig (age 17 next month), live here in Brazil. A married son lives in Provo.
It’s hard to know how to really say thanks to someone who is deserving of a great deal of thanks. But to you I say: thanks for your support and your love and your concern and all you mean to me. Your financial support, even as it is difficult, particularly as it is difficult, demonstrates that you are indeed a disciple of Christ. If ever things become impossible, just let me know, because I can share this with you (although I’m sure he doesn’t care to have it broadcast all over): Bob Russell has offered me his help at any time it might become necessary. He too has dedicated to the Lord his all—including his time, talents, energies, resources, and even life—to the building of the kingdom. This is why my home and my heart will be ever open to him. I wish only that you knew Bob as I have been privileged to know him.
Have you seen the November Improvement Era? I did just this week, and it is fantabulous. If you have read it, study it again. I was particularly impressed and instructed with the article wherein was asked the question, “When did you last receive a personal revelation?” Is not that what the gospel is all about? As I see it, living the commandments is only to make us worthy to receive the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. Then we begin living the meat of the gospel as the Spirit, leading us by revelation, leads us from grace to grace and from perfection to perfection until that perfect day when we come into the Savior’s own presence. How glorious will be that day!
The dinner hour is nearly here and I must prepare now for that. My special Christmas treat has been sharing the spirit and life of the Savior’s early ministry by reading again Talmage’s Jesus the Christ. Please send me a detailed account of life in Nampa, especially of Christmas at our house, and of growth in the Nampa Fifth Ward from time to time. I need letters—oh, it makes being a missionary so much easier, especially letters uplifting and inspiring and instructing. Sometimes letters are too much like news broadcasts (I am guilty of this sometimes) and need to be a little more from the heart. Real communication is from one soul to another, by the power of the Spirit. I hope my sharing of my mission will be edifying and uplifting to you.
Remember me in your prayers, as I do all of you in mine. English is an inadequate language, and so it is hard to express in words the swellings of a deeply grateful heart. Let this be an attempt: you are the greatest brother anyone could want to ask for. Thanks for everything. May the Lord be with you and His peace be upon you.
Post–Christmas postscript: Since I didn’t quite mail this yet, I will add a few more thoughts here. Tonight is the evening of Christmas Day 1968, which is now only happy memory for all practical purposes. The day has been long and tiring and warm and rewarding. I am grateful for all that Christmas really means—for life itself, for love, for the gospel, for a wonderful family, for supporting friends, for the Savior and His life and all He has done for us.
Early this morning I was up to share Christmas with the Johnson family, having ever as much fun watching their enjoyment without receiving any gifts myself.
Later all the elders in the mission within close distance to headquarters (about eighty percent of the missionaries) were here for the festivities of the day. Sister Johnson prepared a fantastic meal, with ham and turkey and root beer and baked potatoes and Jell-o—all of which are not found elsewhere in Brazil. In the afternoon was a program, followed by community singing of carols with yours truly at the keyboard. We all had a great time, even me still hopping around on a sore foot. I guess right now mine is the most popular toe in the entire mission.
As things look now, I hope to return to Petrópolis on Monday to finally begin work again—that is, if the toes will cooperate.
Please tell Gene and Cheryl and Ray and Sheryl hello for me, wishing them all a happy new year. Tell them I will try to write them whenever a chance pops up.
Showing posts with label Written in 1968. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Written in 1968. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
15. To My Family at Christmastime
A Christmas letter to my family in Idaho written from the mission home in Rio de Janeiro on Monday, December 23, 1968.
MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you. I was planning on sending a distinctive Brazilian card or something to you for the holidays, but due to the happenings of the past week that became impossible. I am writing this from a bed in the mission home here in Rio—more of that later, now I will tell you of more exciting things.
The three hours at the airport, saying good-bye to everybody, seemed more like ten minutes. Especially when it was time to leave, everything was a hectic rush. When we reached Denver we were late and thought we had missed connections, but the other plane was likewise late. There wasn’t any snow in Denver. When we finally did leave we were an hour behind time. Almost all the way across the country a cloud covering prevented seeing anything below. As we approached New York’s Kennedy International we were in a forty-minute holding pat¬tern waiting for a landing spot. The skies were literally thick as flies with other craft above and below us in holding patterns. That indicates how much air traffic there is in New York. Anyway, our frequent circles over the city offered a fantastic view of the billions of lights sparkling below, a breath-taking view indeed.
By the time we finally got off the plane it was 6:50, leaving only forty minutes before our next flight was to leave! We had no passports yet and had no idea where the VARIG airlines building was (it turned out to be about 1½ miles from the United building where we deplaned). The only thing that saved us was that Elder [David] Babbel’s family was there to see him, and his father had called a limousine to rush us over to VARIG. Well, making a long story short, we just barely made the plane, but our luggage didn’t. That made all kinds of fun going through customs in Brazil.
We landed in Rio de Janeiro Wednesday morning at 7:30 and President and Sister Hal Johnson and some of the elders on the mission staff were there to meet us. Most of that day was spent being fingerprinted, photographed, visiting the embassy, and such. President Johnson interviewed each of us and then as a group we had an orientation meeting with him and Sister Johnson.
We were supposed to have left for our assignments that night but couldn’t because we had no luggage. Thursday morning we spent six hours and a half getting our baggage through customs at the airport. After all that, we returned to the mission office, where President Johnson told us where we were going. Two of us went to a city in the interior near Brasília, five went north 1,700 miles to Recife and João Pessoa, and one went to Petrópolis—a city in the mountains about 1½ hours from Rio by bus (probably fifty or sixty miles), the only cool place in the whole north mission. The president of the republic has a summer residence there. This is the city I will be working in first. My companion and I are the only two elders there. The branch has about 140 members. I am told Petrópolis was once mostly German, but now nobody speaks German there.
Thursday night I took a bus all alone to Petrópolis. After spending the night there, my companion and I returned to Rio the next day. Friday afternoon I had my right big toe operated on and the nail completely removed. The other foot is all right. Since then I have been just laying around here in the mission office leading an easy life—listening to Brazilian radio (which is mostly American music, sung in English), being fed grand meals three times a day, getting plenty of rest, and getting lots of studying done. I just finished reading all of Talmage’s Jesus the Christ, which I started only Saturday. There is no need to worry about anything because I am in good hands.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. That is so hard to believe, partly I suppose because we are here sweltering in the heat of summer. The Christmas tree here in the mission office is just like Jerry’s miniature tree that looks like a pine and a fern all in one, except that it is about six feet tall. They grow naturally here. Christmas Day all the missionaries that are at all close to the mission office will be here for a big dinner and such. Hopefully by the day following Christmas I will be able to return to Petrópolis.
Elder Michael Dean Slade, my companion from Las Vegas, is branch president and district leader. He was transferred to Petrópolis one week before I arrived. The branch was in such a mess that the entire first week he spent in getting it in order and had no time for missionary work. By the time he leaves for home February 7, he is supposed to have trained local membership to run the branch and a junior companion, me, to be able to be a senior companion if necessary (and it just might be).
Well, I should close now. Have a most prosperous new year and, though it will be late, merry Christmas also. Remember me in your prayers.
MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you. I was planning on sending a distinctive Brazilian card or something to you for the holidays, but due to the happenings of the past week that became impossible. I am writing this from a bed in the mission home here in Rio—more of that later, now I will tell you of more exciting things.
The three hours at the airport, saying good-bye to everybody, seemed more like ten minutes. Especially when it was time to leave, everything was a hectic rush. When we reached Denver we were late and thought we had missed connections, but the other plane was likewise late. There wasn’t any snow in Denver. When we finally did leave we were an hour behind time. Almost all the way across the country a cloud covering prevented seeing anything below. As we approached New York’s Kennedy International we were in a forty-minute holding pat¬tern waiting for a landing spot. The skies were literally thick as flies with other craft above and below us in holding patterns. That indicates how much air traffic there is in New York. Anyway, our frequent circles over the city offered a fantastic view of the billions of lights sparkling below, a breath-taking view indeed.
By the time we finally got off the plane it was 6:50, leaving only forty minutes before our next flight was to leave! We had no passports yet and had no idea where the VARIG airlines building was (it turned out to be about 1½ miles from the United building where we deplaned). The only thing that saved us was that Elder [David] Babbel’s family was there to see him, and his father had called a limousine to rush us over to VARIG. Well, making a long story short, we just barely made the plane, but our luggage didn’t. That made all kinds of fun going through customs in Brazil.
We landed in Rio de Janeiro Wednesday morning at 7:30 and President and Sister Hal Johnson and some of the elders on the mission staff were there to meet us. Most of that day was spent being fingerprinted, photographed, visiting the embassy, and such. President Johnson interviewed each of us and then as a group we had an orientation meeting with him and Sister Johnson.
We were supposed to have left for our assignments that night but couldn’t because we had no luggage. Thursday morning we spent six hours and a half getting our baggage through customs at the airport. After all that, we returned to the mission office, where President Johnson told us where we were going. Two of us went to a city in the interior near Brasília, five went north 1,700 miles to Recife and João Pessoa, and one went to Petrópolis—a city in the mountains about 1½ hours from Rio by bus (probably fifty or sixty miles), the only cool place in the whole north mission. The president of the republic has a summer residence there. This is the city I will be working in first. My companion and I are the only two elders there. The branch has about 140 members. I am told Petrópolis was once mostly German, but now nobody speaks German there.
Thursday night I took a bus all alone to Petrópolis. After spending the night there, my companion and I returned to Rio the next day. Friday afternoon I had my right big toe operated on and the nail completely removed. The other foot is all right. Since then I have been just laying around here in the mission office leading an easy life—listening to Brazilian radio (which is mostly American music, sung in English), being fed grand meals three times a day, getting plenty of rest, and getting lots of studying done. I just finished reading all of Talmage’s Jesus the Christ, which I started only Saturday. There is no need to worry about anything because I am in good hands.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. That is so hard to believe, partly I suppose because we are here sweltering in the heat of summer. The Christmas tree here in the mission office is just like Jerry’s miniature tree that looks like a pine and a fern all in one, except that it is about six feet tall. They grow naturally here. Christmas Day all the missionaries that are at all close to the mission office will be here for a big dinner and such. Hopefully by the day following Christmas I will be able to return to Petrópolis.
Elder Michael Dean Slade, my companion from Las Vegas, is branch president and district leader. He was transferred to Petrópolis one week before I arrived. The branch was in such a mess that the entire first week he spent in getting it in order and had no time for missionary work. By the time he leaves for home February 7, he is supposed to have trained local membership to run the branch and a junior companion, me, to be able to be a senior companion if necessary (and it just might be).
Well, I should close now. Have a most prosperous new year and, though it will be late, merry Christmas also. Remember me in your prayers.
14. To My Family at Thanksgiving
A Thanksgiving Day letter sent to my family in Nampa, Idaho, from the Language Training Mission in Provo, Utah, on Thursday, November 28, 1968.
The wise author of Ecclesiastes has written: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” Today is the season of thanksgiving, a moment when we step out of our regular busy-a-day lives to consider those things in life that are really important, a time when we draw a little closer to our Father in Heaven because there is the realization that all we have, all we are, all we can be is because of Him, the giver of all.
Now you are gathered as a family. A good family is one of the choicest blessings heaven can offer. Take a few moments to consider that. And if we want we make those relationships eternal. That is what I want, and I challenge all of you to help work for it. To Dad and Mother we owe our love, our devotion, our obedience. They have given us life and love and a home, and that is a debt we can never fully repay.
In thinking of Thanksgiving I made a list of those 100 things I am most grateful for. It is not my intent to bore you with them all, but I will share a few. I am humbled at the realization of how richly I have been blessed. I do not understand why, for I am certainly blessed beyond any worthiness of mine, but I thank God for it. The windows of heaven have been opened in my life. Chiefly is the gospel, the Savior’s tremendous sacrifice for each of us, the great love God has us-ward, testimonies, the Spirit’s influence in our lives, and the growth possible in the priesthood and within the Church. And then there is freedom, families, parents, friends, children, health, the beauties of nature, talents and abilities, opportunities to learn and to serve. All these things are what life is all about, really about.
The Prophet has spoken of these things. He said: “With all my soul, I plead with members of the Church and with people everywhere, to think more about the gospel; more about the developing of the spirit within; to devote more time to the real things in life, and less time to those things which will perish” (Conference Report, Apr. 1968, 144).
Enough of this epistle. It is hoped in this small way my sprit can participate with you this day, though I be absent in body. I hope this makes nobody homesick, for me we are too busy to ever worry about that. I leave with you all my love, my gratitude for all your support, and the knowledge I have that Christ lives and loves us and that this is His work and glory in which we are engaged. In His holy name I offer these few thoughts and ask His blessing upon all of you.
The wise author of Ecclesiastes has written: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” Today is the season of thanksgiving, a moment when we step out of our regular busy-a-day lives to consider those things in life that are really important, a time when we draw a little closer to our Father in Heaven because there is the realization that all we have, all we are, all we can be is because of Him, the giver of all.
Now you are gathered as a family. A good family is one of the choicest blessings heaven can offer. Take a few moments to consider that. And if we want we make those relationships eternal. That is what I want, and I challenge all of you to help work for it. To Dad and Mother we owe our love, our devotion, our obedience. They have given us life and love and a home, and that is a debt we can never fully repay.
In thinking of Thanksgiving I made a list of those 100 things I am most grateful for. It is not my intent to bore you with them all, but I will share a few. I am humbled at the realization of how richly I have been blessed. I do not understand why, for I am certainly blessed beyond any worthiness of mine, but I thank God for it. The windows of heaven have been opened in my life. Chiefly is the gospel, the Savior’s tremendous sacrifice for each of us, the great love God has us-ward, testimonies, the Spirit’s influence in our lives, and the growth possible in the priesthood and within the Church. And then there is freedom, families, parents, friends, children, health, the beauties of nature, talents and abilities, opportunities to learn and to serve. All these things are what life is all about, really about.
The Prophet has spoken of these things. He said: “With all my soul, I plead with members of the Church and with people everywhere, to think more about the gospel; more about the developing of the spirit within; to devote more time to the real things in life, and less time to those things which will perish” (Conference Report, Apr. 1968, 144).
Enough of this epistle. It is hoped in this small way my sprit can participate with you this day, though I be absent in body. I hope this makes nobody homesick, for me we are too busy to ever worry about that. I leave with you all my love, my gratitude for all your support, and the knowledge I have that Christ lives and loves us and that this is His work and glory in which we are engaged. In His holy name I offer these few thoughts and ask His blessing upon all of you.
13. To Jerry
A letter to my older brother Jerry written from the Language Training Mission in Provo, Utah, on Saturday, October 19, 1968. Jerry, who was thirty years old at the time, lived in Boise and, along with Gene and Cheryl, was one of the principal financial supporters of my mission.
Dear Jerry,
Only three months ago today was my nineteenth birthday. How clearly I remember that day. But what is remarkable is the continued growth I have experienced since then. The mantle of a great responsibility has been placed upon my shoulders. Ten years ago this very month you experienced a similar thing and know of what I speak.
The vastness of the Lord’s work in South America is overwhelming: The stone Daniel saw is now filling the whole earth. The longer I live the more firmly I am convinced that the Savior’s return is drawing closer and closer. So many signs have been given, including the gospel being preached in all the world. The elect are being gathered because the sheep know the voice of their Shepherd (and of His authorized servants) and are responding. We are all so blessed to be able to live in this part of this dispensation, a dispensation in which things are being revealed that have never before been revealed since the earth’s beginning. Time is growing so short. Even now we are instructed not to take more than three weeks with an investigator. This week we were told that a time would come when six discussions would take too long and the elders could only stand on the streets to declare their message and bear their testimony. Yes, time is short.
This week in leadership meeting Steven Covey, assistant to President Wilkinson and formerly Irish Mission president, addressed us. His hour with us was a truly great experience. At the beginning of every leadership meeting the missionaries sing the opening hymn in their respective languages, meaning six languages all at once. That really sounds interesting.
Next Thursday or Friday we are moving out of Allen Hall into a hotel somewhere in Provo. The address will be the same though. It will probably mean more money but that depends upon where we move. I am going to pay all expenses here in just one check before leaving at Christmastime. Those bits of extra money I have, or assume I have, will really help.
Continue your wonderful letters. I really appreciate them. Thanks. Obrigado.
Tomorrow morning I have one of the 2½-minute talks in Sunday School in Portuguese. The other night I finally was called on to give a closing prayer in front of the whole zone, also in Portuguese.
Grow closer to the Lord, Jerry, and He will direct your paths to your own best good. I can testify personally of that. I think most Church members don’t really understand it, but if we expect to be in the celestial kingdom hereafter we must be charting a course here and now that leads toward perfection and becoming worthy to see the Savior and, through faith and repentance and His divine grace, becoming completely free of the sins of the world. The day of this life is the time to prepare to meet God, teaches the Book of Mormon. This life, not the next.
I thank you for all you have given me and mean to me. If only I can partly repay the debt. May God bless you.
Dear Jerry,
Only three months ago today was my nineteenth birthday. How clearly I remember that day. But what is remarkable is the continued growth I have experienced since then. The mantle of a great responsibility has been placed upon my shoulders. Ten years ago this very month you experienced a similar thing and know of what I speak.
The vastness of the Lord’s work in South America is overwhelming: The stone Daniel saw is now filling the whole earth. The longer I live the more firmly I am convinced that the Savior’s return is drawing closer and closer. So many signs have been given, including the gospel being preached in all the world. The elect are being gathered because the sheep know the voice of their Shepherd (and of His authorized servants) and are responding. We are all so blessed to be able to live in this part of this dispensation, a dispensation in which things are being revealed that have never before been revealed since the earth’s beginning. Time is growing so short. Even now we are instructed not to take more than three weeks with an investigator. This week we were told that a time would come when six discussions would take too long and the elders could only stand on the streets to declare their message and bear their testimony. Yes, time is short.
This week in leadership meeting Steven Covey, assistant to President Wilkinson and formerly Irish Mission president, addressed us. His hour with us was a truly great experience. At the beginning of every leadership meeting the missionaries sing the opening hymn in their respective languages, meaning six languages all at once. That really sounds interesting.
Next Thursday or Friday we are moving out of Allen Hall into a hotel somewhere in Provo. The address will be the same though. It will probably mean more money but that depends upon where we move. I am going to pay all expenses here in just one check before leaving at Christmastime. Those bits of extra money I have, or assume I have, will really help.
Continue your wonderful letters. I really appreciate them. Thanks. Obrigado.
Tomorrow morning I have one of the 2½-minute talks in Sunday School in Portuguese. The other night I finally was called on to give a closing prayer in front of the whole zone, also in Portuguese.
Grow closer to the Lord, Jerry, and He will direct your paths to your own best good. I can testify personally of that. I think most Church members don’t really understand it, but if we expect to be in the celestial kingdom hereafter we must be charting a course here and now that leads toward perfection and becoming worthy to see the Savior and, through faith and repentance and His divine grace, becoming completely free of the sins of the world. The day of this life is the time to prepare to meet God, teaches the Book of Mormon. This life, not the next.
I thank you for all you have given me and mean to me. If only I can partly repay the debt. May God bless you.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
12. Missionary Call Letter
A letter addressed to Elder Dean Batt Cleverly, 
signed by President David O. McKay, ninth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, arrived at my house in Nampa, Idaho, on Saturday, August 24, 1968. The letter called me to serve as a full-time missionary in the Brazilian North Mission, headquartered in Rio de Janeiro. (During the time I was serving, the name of the mission was changed to the Brazil North Mission.) I was to report to the mission home in Salt Lake City just one month later on Monday, September 23, 1968.
“A great amount of anticipation was natural,” I wrote later of that occasion. “So as the white envelope from 47 East South Temple finally came, a flood of last-minute thoughts followed before that seal could be broken. Other floods would come later. From the Prophet’s letter the words Brazilian North Mission jumped out. Brazil! Never once had such a place even entered my mind in all the months of dreaming and planning. Yet from that very first moment Brazil had new meaning to me, and it became special to tell friends and family of my new home. It required but little time to satisfy my own mind that the Lord Himself, through His authorized servants, had called and wanted me serving in Brazil.”
My missionary call letter, I later observed was "the one single letter that influenced my life more than any other I have ever received." Unfortunately, I misplaced the letter and to this day have been unable to find a copy.
signed by President David O. McKay, ninth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, arrived at my house in Nampa, Idaho, on Saturday, August 24, 1968. The letter called me to serve as a full-time missionary in the Brazilian North Mission, headquartered in Rio de Janeiro. (During the time I was serving, the name of the mission was changed to the Brazil North Mission.) I was to report to the mission home in Salt Lake City just one month later on Monday, September 23, 1968.“A great amount of anticipation was natural,” I wrote later of that occasion. “So as the white envelope from 47 East South Temple finally came, a flood of last-minute thoughts followed before that seal could be broken. Other floods would come later. From the Prophet’s letter the words Brazilian North Mission jumped out. Brazil! Never once had such a place even entered my mind in all the months of dreaming and planning. Yet from that very first moment Brazil had new meaning to me, and it became special to tell friends and family of my new home. It required but little time to satisfy my own mind that the Lord Himself, through His authorized servants, had called and wanted me serving in Brazil.”
My missionary call letter, I later observed was "the one single letter that influenced my life more than any other I have ever received." Unfortunately, I misplaced the letter and to this day have been unable to find a copy.
11. From Bob Russell
Excerpts from a letter Bob Russell wrote me in Seattle, Washington, on Monday, July 29, 1968, in response to my letter written on June 11. See letter 8.
I've been sitting here for the past hour contemplating how I was going to write this letter. When I read your letter, which is an absolute piece of genius, I get cold feet trying to reply to it. After all, I'm supposed to be the one with the education in English. I guess the only thing I can conclude is that formal education in an art might teach you to analyze and recognize that which is good, but it can't teach creativity. I'll have to tell you a little about that letter. I was going to wait until evening to read it, but couldn't wait and so pulled off the road just outside of Nampa to read it. I suppose passing motorists wondered what was up as I sat there with tears rolling down my face. Later, I hope you don't mind, I shared it with Jackson since he and I had talked at length about partings. He asked to have a copy of it as a source of inspiration to him from time to time. Thanks, Dean, for sharing with me some of the most precious things about you. As of the past few years I've given over to throwing correspondence away, but this particular letter I hope to keep as a reminder of a great man of faith and obedience who served as a goal in my life. Perhaps after you've become one of the leading writers of the 20th century, I'll drag it out to be published along with your other works.
Once again, thanks for sharing part of yourself with me and thanks for being an example of faith to me. I have an immense love for you and for what you represent. Some of my greatest joys in life come through association with those valiant souls trying to build a Christ-like character. You have been one of those people in my life. I hope that we can maintain some measure of contact through the years as I think we can both grow from it. Thanks for being my friend.
I've been sitting here for the past hour contemplating how I was going to write this letter. When I read your letter, which is an absolute piece of genius, I get cold feet trying to reply to it. After all, I'm supposed to be the one with the education in English. I guess the only thing I can conclude is that formal education in an art might teach you to analyze and recognize that which is good, but it can't teach creativity. I'll have to tell you a little about that letter. I was going to wait until evening to read it, but couldn't wait and so pulled off the road just outside of Nampa to read it. I suppose passing motorists wondered what was up as I sat there with tears rolling down my face. Later, I hope you don't mind, I shared it with Jackson since he and I had talked at length about partings. He asked to have a copy of it as a source of inspiration to him from time to time. Thanks, Dean, for sharing with me some of the most precious things about you. As of the past few years I've given over to throwing correspondence away, but this particular letter I hope to keep as a reminder of a great man of faith and obedience who served as a goal in my life. Perhaps after you've become one of the leading writers of the 20th century, I'll drag it out to be published along with your other works.
Once again, thanks for sharing part of yourself with me and thanks for being an example of faith to me. I have an immense love for you and for what you represent. Some of my greatest joys in life come through association with those valiant souls trying to build a Christ-like character. You have been one of those people in my life. I hope that we can maintain some measure of contact through the years as I think we can both grow from it. Thanks for being my friend.
10. From Evan Ballard
Excerpts from a letter written by Evan Ballard in Laie, Hawaii, on Saturday, July 20, 1968. Evan lived across the hall from me in Stover Hall during the preceding school year at Brigham Young University. Having completed our freshman year of college, we were both waiting to receive our mission calls.
Time seems to play a very deceptive game of dragging, yet disappearing at a phenomenal rate. How clearly I recall the morning of your departure as I watched you battle the persistent tears and wished that I could express my feelings for you. As an Army brat, I have been uprooted repeatedly, and logically I should be well accustomed to good-byes. It just ain't so.
You have taught me a great deal, Dean, and I respect you tremendously. But beyond that, I love you as a friend and brother and confidant. To be able to share my thoughts and, more significantly, my emotions with you opened my blind eyes to a new dimension of brotherhood. I came to understand more fully that people around me are literally my brothers and sisters, and that they are no less valuable in the sight of our Father than I am.
From you, Dean, I feel a powerful spirit and faith, which often serves me as an example. I certainly appreciate the two letters you have written to me, and I beg your forgiveness for my tardiness in answering. I do think about you continually, despite my ostensible negligence. You have been a very special friend among friends. The late night and early morning sit-ins that we staged cling in my memory. I can't forget that we two humble souls struck down the mighty [Jeff] Boswell with bolts of ice water. Those talks were really great for me, Dean, and whatever I lost in sleep, I believe I gained in spirit.
I am convinced that our floor constituted one of the most complete gatherings of great men that I have ever encountered. The short school year that I spent there was indeed the happiest, most fruitful, most enlightening period that I have ever lived. I look forward now to brighter things than I had ever imagined before. The entire experience of that year was wonderful, but I believe I learned most from the lives and thoughts of the individuals.
Please be tolerant of my writing. I am an abominable letter-writer. My ability with a pen is entirely inadequate to open my thoughts and feelings. I become a little frustrated. I admire your talent of expression in writing; your letters are to me masterpieces of effective communicating yourself.
Dean, this letter does not convey a hundredth part of the things I long to share with you. I will try to write again soon.
Time seems to play a very deceptive game of dragging, yet disappearing at a phenomenal rate. How clearly I recall the morning of your departure as I watched you battle the persistent tears and wished that I could express my feelings for you. As an Army brat, I have been uprooted repeatedly, and logically I should be well accustomed to good-byes. It just ain't so.
You have taught me a great deal, Dean, and I respect you tremendously. But beyond that, I love you as a friend and brother and confidant. To be able to share my thoughts and, more significantly, my emotions with you opened my blind eyes to a new dimension of brotherhood. I came to understand more fully that people around me are literally my brothers and sisters, and that they are no less valuable in the sight of our Father than I am.
From you, Dean, I feel a powerful spirit and faith, which often serves me as an example. I certainly appreciate the two letters you have written to me, and I beg your forgiveness for my tardiness in answering. I do think about you continually, despite my ostensible negligence. You have been a very special friend among friends. The late night and early morning sit-ins that we staged cling in my memory. I can't forget that we two humble souls struck down the mighty [Jeff] Boswell with bolts of ice water. Those talks were really great for me, Dean, and whatever I lost in sleep, I believe I gained in spirit.
I am convinced that our floor constituted one of the most complete gatherings of great men that I have ever encountered. The short school year that I spent there was indeed the happiest, most fruitful, most enlightening period that I have ever lived. I look forward now to brighter things than I had ever imagined before. The entire experience of that year was wonderful, but I believe I learned most from the lives and thoughts of the individuals.
Please be tolerant of my writing. I am an abominable letter-writer. My ability with a pen is entirely inadequate to open my thoughts and feelings. I become a little frustrated. I admire your talent of expression in writing; your letters are to me masterpieces of effective communicating yourself.
Dean, this letter does not convey a hundredth part of the things I long to share with you. I will try to write again soon.
9. Earliest Letters to Claudia
These two letters represent the earliest letters we could find that were addressed to Claudia, one from a friend named Darlene, the other from Claudia’s mother. Neither had dates on them, although the second letter did say it was written on Sunday, June 16. The 16th fell on a Sunday in 1963 and 1968. Our best guess is that it was in 1968, the summer between Claudia’s junior and senior years of high school. She had flown, apparently for the first time ever, to Salt Lake City and was going on down to Provo. That must have been when she went to Youth Academy, the forerunner of today’s Especially for Youth.
Dear Claudia,
I hope you aren’t mad because I started to walk home without you. Everything on the way down Mission reminded me of you; the pole you always ran into, the bushes you always push me into—even the side of the sidewalk you always walk on. I really missed you. When I came back into the liquor store I saw you and Carol hiding behind all the Fritos, potato chips, pretzels, and Ruffles; I could see you through the little peep-holes where 29¢ potato chips used to be. I got my feelings hurt. On the way down Mission I started to cry, but I stopped just in time when I remembered that I was supposed to be acting suave and sophisticated. Then your mother came. I was nearly beside myself with grief. But your darling mother cheered me up with one of her puny little jokes. Just as I got happier, I thought of you and broke down again. When we picked you up my heart was absolutely broken. But when I saw that twinkle in your eyes, I knew we were friends again. It sure felt good to know it. From now on, I’ll never leave without you and Carol. I’ll know you really don’t hate me—you’re just teasing me. I know we’ll be friends forever.
Hi Punkin’
Thought I’d surprise you by getting a letter off real soon—I realize this may be a dangerous thing to do—the shock may be too much!!!!
Anyhow sweetie, Dad and I want you to know we love and miss you—we are constantly reminded of you tho—you left a pair of shoes in practically every room of the house—two pair (both pink, Keds & dressy) in the family room—so how about that!
How do you go for air travel? Doris and I were thinking about you at 10:35—we were on the Harbor Freeway in the downtown L.A. area & wondering if you were taking off on schedule. It’s a good thing we hurried out when we did tho—the lady on the motor bike was there giving the car ahead of us a ticket—we didn’t get one tho.
How are the family in Salt Lake? I suppose Grandma or Aunt Pat had dinner for you—did you have lunch or a snack on the planes? What did you decide about going to Provo?—tonight or Monday morning? (I thought if I ask questions you would write giving the answers—pretty smart, eh!!??
We had a returned missionary from the North German Mission in church tonight—his name Jim Schneider—good German name!
Honey, please take good care of yourself—I don't think swimming should be taken while you’re there—you can swim at home & enjoy other things while you’re there, O.K.? No sense getting sick & missing out completely!
I’ll send you some white panty hose. I tried to get some Saturday but L didn’t have any.
Have fun—Be good—Please write!!!
P.S. Please let me know the time for the banquet—start & finish—Maybe Aunt Ruth will come.
Dear Claudia,
I hope you aren’t mad because I started to walk home without you. Everything on the way down Mission reminded me of you; the pole you always ran into, the bushes you always push me into—even the side of the sidewalk you always walk on. I really missed you. When I came back into the liquor store I saw you and Carol hiding behind all the Fritos, potato chips, pretzels, and Ruffles; I could see you through the little peep-holes where 29¢ potato chips used to be. I got my feelings hurt. On the way down Mission I started to cry, but I stopped just in time when I remembered that I was supposed to be acting suave and sophisticated. Then your mother came. I was nearly beside myself with grief. But your darling mother cheered me up with one of her puny little jokes. Just as I got happier, I thought of you and broke down again. When we picked you up my heart was absolutely broken. But when I saw that twinkle in your eyes, I knew we were friends again. It sure felt good to know it. From now on, I’ll never leave without you and Carol. I’ll know you really don’t hate me—you’re just teasing me. I know we’ll be friends forever.
Your friend,
Darlene
Darlene
Hi Punkin’
Thought I’d surprise you by getting a letter off real soon—I realize this may be a dangerous thing to do—the shock may be too much!!!!
Anyhow sweetie, Dad and I want you to know we love and miss you—we are constantly reminded of you tho—you left a pair of shoes in practically every room of the house—two pair (both pink, Keds & dressy) in the family room—so how about that!
How do you go for air travel? Doris and I were thinking about you at 10:35—we were on the Harbor Freeway in the downtown L.A. area & wondering if you were taking off on schedule. It’s a good thing we hurried out when we did tho—the lady on the motor bike was there giving the car ahead of us a ticket—we didn’t get one tho.
How are the family in Salt Lake? I suppose Grandma or Aunt Pat had dinner for you—did you have lunch or a snack on the planes? What did you decide about going to Provo?—tonight or Monday morning? (I thought if I ask questions you would write giving the answers—pretty smart, eh!!??
We had a returned missionary from the North German Mission in church tonight—his name Jim Schneider—good German name!
Honey, please take good care of yourself—I don't think swimming should be taken while you’re there—you can swim at home & enjoy other things while you’re there, O.K.? No sense getting sick & missing out completely!
I’ll send you some white panty hose. I tried to get some Saturday but L didn’t have any.
Have fun—Be good—Please write!!!
We love you,
Mom & Dad
Mom & Dad
P.S. Please let me know the time for the banquet—start & finish—Maybe Aunt Ruth will come.
8. To Bob Russell
Excerpts from a letter to Bob Russell, written in Nampa, Idaho, on Tuesday, June 11, 1968. Bob had been the senior resident of the floor on which I lived in Stover Hall at Brigham Young University during the preceding school year. Bob had stopped to visit me in Nampa on his way to his new job in Seattle, and I handed him this letter as he was departing. See also letter 11.
From the experiences of only a few weeks ago I learned that although good-byes can be significant occasions—even sacred—there is something which is lacking. Maybe it is that all that needs to be said cannot be said. How can a person pass suddenly out of another's life after they have been so close, with the possibility of never meeting again? What do you say? If ever you learn, let me know. This letter pretends to be no more than a collection of random thoughts trying to express a few of my feelings, trying to say good-bye adequately, trying to say that which can never really be molded into words maybe.
At the year's beginning I prayed for a neat roommate, that would be good for me and compatible. My prayers were answered here too. Oh, but how selfish I am at times! It was not until later I prayed I would be a neat roommate myself, that we would be good for each other and grow together. I cannot think of two more compatible roommates on the floor than Jim [Dallas] and I, unless it was you and your roommate [Bob did not have a roommate]. We just sort of clicked together, if you understand what I mean. One of the happiest things all year was his decision to go on a mission! I hope he stays fast to that decision.
Maybe a few words about you now. To say you were the best senior resident I ever had might ring hollow considering you are the only one I have had. I could project that you will be the best I ever do have but maybe I will never live under any others). I think one reason why your year (as a senior resident) was successful stands close to what you have said concerning Sister May: you did your job without trying to be everybody's friend and thus drew many of the people under you to you as friends. Another aspect must be that you put much more into your job than required, no I should say more than most others put into it, but I think in your situation not to have put all you did into it would have been to miss a great opportunity and to ignore responsibility. Any job requires a person's best. I must thank you for sharing part of your life with me. Like draws like in the area of human relations I have learned—you were very similar to me. Thanks for being you.
Remember me as one who loves the Lord and tries to be committed to Him. Remember me as one who enjoys good laughs. Remember me as a friend in the loftiest meaning of that noble word. Here is a piece of advice from someone who is younger (in years, wisdom, and experience): be a friend to anyone in special need of a friend, as I was. One of your greatest talents is your ability to work well with other people. Trust on the Lord; He will guide your life.
May the Lord's watchful hand be with you in your present journey and in the journey of life. Sometime and somewhere our paths will cross again. May God bless you. And so a most valuable era of my life—the greatest to this point—is finished. Good-bye.
From the experiences of only a few weeks ago I learned that although good-byes can be significant occasions—even sacred—there is something which is lacking. Maybe it is that all that needs to be said cannot be said. How can a person pass suddenly out of another's life after they have been so close, with the possibility of never meeting again? What do you say? If ever you learn, let me know. This letter pretends to be no more than a collection of random thoughts trying to express a few of my feelings, trying to say good-bye adequately, trying to say that which can never really be molded into words maybe.
At the year's beginning I prayed for a neat roommate, that would be good for me and compatible. My prayers were answered here too. Oh, but how selfish I am at times! It was not until later I prayed I would be a neat roommate myself, that we would be good for each other and grow together. I cannot think of two more compatible roommates on the floor than Jim [Dallas] and I, unless it was you and your roommate [Bob did not have a roommate]. We just sort of clicked together, if you understand what I mean. One of the happiest things all year was his decision to go on a mission! I hope he stays fast to that decision.
Maybe a few words about you now. To say you were the best senior resident I ever had might ring hollow considering you are the only one I have had. I could project that you will be the best I ever do have but maybe I will never live under any others). I think one reason why your year (as a senior resident) was successful stands close to what you have said concerning Sister May: you did your job without trying to be everybody's friend and thus drew many of the people under you to you as friends. Another aspect must be that you put much more into your job than required, no I should say more than most others put into it, but I think in your situation not to have put all you did into it would have been to miss a great opportunity and to ignore responsibility. Any job requires a person's best. I must thank you for sharing part of your life with me. Like draws like in the area of human relations I have learned—you were very similar to me. Thanks for being you.
Remember me as one who loves the Lord and tries to be committed to Him. Remember me as one who enjoys good laughs. Remember me as a friend in the loftiest meaning of that noble word. Here is a piece of advice from someone who is younger (in years, wisdom, and experience): be a friend to anyone in special need of a friend, as I was. One of your greatest talents is your ability to work well with other people. Trust on the Lord; He will guide your life.
May the Lord's watchful hand be with you in your present journey and in the journey of life. Sometime and somewhere our paths will cross again. May God bless you. And so a most valuable era of my life—the greatest to this point—is finished. Good-bye.
7. From Gene and Cheryl
Excerpts from a letter I received from my brother and sister-in-law, Gene and Cheryl Cleverly, sometime in May or June 1968, just a couple months before receiving my mission call to Brazil. Gene was stationed with the Army in Germany but was writing, without my having solicited it, to offer financial help for my mission. He had met Cheryl Jones in Vernal, Utah, near the end of his own mission in the Western States Mission, and had married her about a month after his release.
Gene: Cheryl and I have decided to help you when you are on your mission. We should be able to give you at least $25 a month. We have enough now for Cheryl and Kimberley to come home. So let us know when you get your call and we send you the money.
Cheryl: We really do want to help you as much as we can. A mission is a wonderful thing. . . . We want you to understand that some months it may be a little hard but we have already planned to take yours out first along with the tithing. . . . When we first get home we won't have a car or job or house or anything and it will probably be tough for a while, but we know that hard times only serve to make us stronger. Dean, we have been so blessed. I really should say I have been the one to be blessed so much. I've got Gene and Kimberley now. I've only been a member of the Church two and a half years, but these have been so full and meaningful to me.
Gene: Cheryl and I have decided to help you when you are on your mission. We should be able to give you at least $25 a month. We have enough now for Cheryl and Kimberley to come home. So let us know when you get your call and we send you the money.
Cheryl: We really do want to help you as much as we can. A mission is a wonderful thing. . . . We want you to understand that some months it may be a little hard but we have already planned to take yours out first along with the tithing. . . . When we first get home we won't have a car or job or house or anything and it will probably be tough for a while, but we know that hard times only serve to make us stronger. Dean, we have been so blessed. I really should say I have been the one to be blessed so much. I've got Gene and Kimberley now. I've only been a member of the Church two and a half years, but these have been so full and meaningful to me.
6. To Jerry
Excerpts from a letter I wrote in Provo, Utah, on Easter Sunday, April 14, 1968, to my older brother Jerry Cleverly. I was a freshman at Brigham Young University and had just returned from a week's visit to the Chicago area in the days immediately following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on April 4.
Now to the late Dr. Martin Luther King. Again this came as quite a surprise to the nation. His funeral in Atlanta was the largest of any private person's in the history of the country. Even the Church sent an official representative to the services, in the person of James O. Mason (first counselor in the Atlanta Stake presidency). President Hugh B. Brown spoke for the Church, saying:
"The leaders and members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints wish to express to the wife, friends, and associates of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., our profoundest sense of shock and grief. We join hands with all those who see in his death a need for recommitment to all those just principles in which we believe."
We cannot really understand his death from the view point we have here being isolated largely in the Mountain West. The first reason for such widespread reaction was because Dr. King was a leader of a significant segment of the American population. Think how you would feel were President [David O.] McKay assassinated—that is how so many of the Negroes must have felt, because Dr. King was also their spiritual leader as well as champion of their rights. The second reason for such notice was because there is in the East (I sensed it while in Chicago a great deal) a very real fear of total civil war. Had not public leaders from all levels and of all parties praised him, there may well have been much more rioting than there was. Can you sense the urgency? A very real threat of civil war. Troops surrounding the White House and Capitol were protecting the seat of government of the world's mightiest nation from its own citizens. Things are quieter now, but this may be a very bad summer. Events will occur to cause Americans who truly love their country to weep for the troubles ahead.
We were only able to participate in the priesthood session [of general conference] and the Saturday morning session (rebroadcast back there on Sunday). But from that much I sensed the urgency the Brethren feel towards the nation and its problems. The priesthood session dealt with us as a people preparing for the future, the Saturday morning session dealt entirely with the nation and was directed to America as a nation more than to the Church itself. The Brethren know full well what is happening.
President [Alvin R.] Dyer's appointment to the First Presidency was unknown to me until I read your letter. This is especially interesting when learning what his duties are. I quote from his own talk:
"And more recently, I am grateful for his [President McKay's] assignment, to give concern, and to be a 'watchman on the tower,' with regard to Missouri—a consecrated and destined land in the great latter-day work of our Heavenly Father."
Does it sound as if we are getting ready to go home? Things are happening (remember how I said I felt that after October conference?) towards the winding up scenes. Listen to President Brown in the priesthood session:
"The war which began in heaven and has been going on ever since—a war in which the immortal souls of the children of men are at stake—is about to reach a climactic point. This appeal, therefore, is in a very real sense a call to arms. The call to be prepared is sent to each of you by and from the President of the Church, the Prophet of God. It is vital and of paramount importance. The preparation must begin at the center of your hearts and extend to the end of your fingers and toes."
The prophets of God are speaking and we had best listen to what we are being told. President McKay urged unity in the October conference. This conference bespeaks of preparation. President McKay's closing words this time:
"With all my soul, I plead with members of the Church, and with people everywhere, to think more about the gospel; more about developing of the Spirit within; to devote more time to the real things in life, and less time to those which will perish."
Search the rest of the message. To those prepared this last stage of the world's history is going to be indeed glorious.
Today is Easter. . . . I would close with an Easter theme which is really the culminating point of the whole gospel. Were this not true, none of the other principles would mean much. "And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives! (D&C 76:22). May we all catch the significance and the witness of that simple statement is my fervent prayer, for we will need it soon.
Now to the late Dr. Martin Luther King. Again this came as quite a surprise to the nation. His funeral in Atlanta was the largest of any private person's in the history of the country. Even the Church sent an official representative to the services, in the person of James O. Mason (first counselor in the Atlanta Stake presidency). President Hugh B. Brown spoke for the Church, saying:
"The leaders and members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints wish to express to the wife, friends, and associates of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., our profoundest sense of shock and grief. We join hands with all those who see in his death a need for recommitment to all those just principles in which we believe."
We cannot really understand his death from the view point we have here being isolated largely in the Mountain West. The first reason for such widespread reaction was because Dr. King was a leader of a significant segment of the American population. Think how you would feel were President [David O.] McKay assassinated—that is how so many of the Negroes must have felt, because Dr. King was also their spiritual leader as well as champion of their rights. The second reason for such notice was because there is in the East (I sensed it while in Chicago a great deal) a very real fear of total civil war. Had not public leaders from all levels and of all parties praised him, there may well have been much more rioting than there was. Can you sense the urgency? A very real threat of civil war. Troops surrounding the White House and Capitol were protecting the seat of government of the world's mightiest nation from its own citizens. Things are quieter now, but this may be a very bad summer. Events will occur to cause Americans who truly love their country to weep for the troubles ahead.
We were only able to participate in the priesthood session [of general conference] and the Saturday morning session (rebroadcast back there on Sunday). But from that much I sensed the urgency the Brethren feel towards the nation and its problems. The priesthood session dealt with us as a people preparing for the future, the Saturday morning session dealt entirely with the nation and was directed to America as a nation more than to the Church itself. The Brethren know full well what is happening.
President [Alvin R.] Dyer's appointment to the First Presidency was unknown to me until I read your letter. This is especially interesting when learning what his duties are. I quote from his own talk:
"And more recently, I am grateful for his [President McKay's] assignment, to give concern, and to be a 'watchman on the tower,' with regard to Missouri—a consecrated and destined land in the great latter-day work of our Heavenly Father."
Does it sound as if we are getting ready to go home? Things are happening (remember how I said I felt that after October conference?) towards the winding up scenes. Listen to President Brown in the priesthood session:
"The war which began in heaven and has been going on ever since—a war in which the immortal souls of the children of men are at stake—is about to reach a climactic point. This appeal, therefore, is in a very real sense a call to arms. The call to be prepared is sent to each of you by and from the President of the Church, the Prophet of God. It is vital and of paramount importance. The preparation must begin at the center of your hearts and extend to the end of your fingers and toes."
The prophets of God are speaking and we had best listen to what we are being told. President McKay urged unity in the October conference. This conference bespeaks of preparation. President McKay's closing words this time:
"With all my soul, I plead with members of the Church, and with people everywhere, to think more about the gospel; more about developing of the Spirit within; to devote more time to the real things in life, and less time to those which will perish."
Search the rest of the message. To those prepared this last stage of the world's history is going to be indeed glorious.
Today is Easter. . . . I would close with an Easter theme which is really the culminating point of the whole gospel. Were this not true, none of the other principles would mean much. "And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives! (D&C 76:22). May we all catch the significance and the witness of that simple statement is my fervent prayer, for we will need it soon.
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