The Birth

 The Birth

It was a beautiful spring morning.  The sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing and the lilacs were blooming.  Everyone was expecting this weather to last. Alas, little did they know that a huge storm was coming.  The big white fluffy clouds turned gray and then to black.  The wind started to blow.  It was as if a tornado was in store. It was so dark you might have thought it was nighttime.  The time was 11:23 AM Sunday, April, 13, 1947.  Paul Kelly Larsen had arrived in Logan, Utah.  All things would change forever.  My parents were Forrest Bybee Larsen and Mary Louise Maughan Larsen. After a three day stay in the hospital I went home to a small house in Lewiston, Utah just a quarter mile North of the 3rd ward building.

I am at such an age now I do not remember many of the days spent in Lewiston but I do remember a few things.

 Life on a dairy farm.

Fred and Jane Larsen (my dads parents) had a farm about two miles west of town.  It was a dairy farm. Grandma Larsen's maiden name was Bybee.  The Bybee’s had a homestead just west and north of the farm. It was bordered on the West by the Bear river.

Dad helped grandpa on the farm.  I would go out in the pasture with him to bring the cows in for milking.  Of course you all remember what a prankster dad was. We had a big bull in the pasture.  I was scared of that bull and dad new it.  Somehow dad always managed to get me between him and the bull, closer to the bull than him. When I figured it out I would run like crazy crying all the way to dad and dad would just laugh. Remember I'm about 3 years old give or take.

Mom worked at the telephone company in Lewiston and with dad working the farm and other jobs I spent much time with Grandma.  She was a great cook.  She use and old wood stove in the kitchen to cook on.  I would help her split kindling so she could cook. She made the best doggone squash pie ever. 

Grandma always had time to read me storybooks. She read them all so many times I must have memorized them.  Just to make sure I was paying attention she would make a mistake or skip a line and she said I always correct her.

                            Delivering milk    

Besides milking cows and farming dad had a milk truck route he drove everyday. It was a flat bed truck and he would have to lift the full cans of milk on to the truck. When he got to the plant he would back up to a dock to unload. On occasion I would get to go with him on a Saturday. I was about three years old at the time. I was just big enough to be able to move the empty milk cans from the dock to the truck. Somehow I managed to knock a stack of empty milk cans on to the ground with me falling first. I’m sure my dad thought I was dead, but I seemed to be all right. No scrapes or broken bones. I remember him saying if anything happened to me that mom would kill him. All the way home dad would look at me about every ten-seconds and say are you sure your all right? We both lived to get in trouble another day.

                           Sledding with Dad

The barn yard had a light and power pole in the middle. In the winter time my Dad would pull an old wood sled with a tractor to hall hay to the cows. One of his favorite winter activities when there was snow on the ground was to put me in to sled when it was empty and drive around the light pole and see how long I could stay in the sled before I tumbled out the back. Of course to me it seemed like that sled was going at least a hundred miles an hour, but in reality not fast at all. Dad made sure I was bundled up and I never got hurt, but it did scare the you know what out of me. I loved to ride in the back of that old wood sled. Even though dad said he would not do it again I new dad would spin me around the light pole, but I got in the sled every chance I could.

          Ants in my pants               

We lived a mile east and about a half mile north of the farm. I think it was a one bed room duplex. The front was lined with huge cotton wood trees. Those trees were very old and need to be cut down. The trees were cut down and place in the side yard. They didn’t limb them at all. Talk about a play ground for a kid.  The only problem with playing on them was that a lot of places they were full of ants. I don’t know how many times I ran into the house shouting “I have ants in my pants, I have ants in my pants.” Mom would strip me down, shake my clothes out and make sure the ants were all gone. I would get dressed and head right back out to the trees for more fun.

                                 The Scar

One late fall day Grandma Larsen took me for a walk around the farm. On our way back we had to cross a barbwire fence. When climbing I raised up to quick and caught my cheek just below my eye on a barb. it cut me clear down to my jaw by my ear.  Grand ma felt bad I felt sorry for her. It wasn't her fault. But none the less I was scared for life.  You can still part of that scar today.