School, Plays and Dances I did like school.  Not too long after school started in the fall, I was standing with some friends who were talking about a girl they obviously didn’t like.  I just stood there and never said a word.  Then they turned to me and told me how great they thought I was because I never gossiped.  I was dumbfounded.  I hadn’t said a word because I didn’t know the girl.  WHAT A LESSON FOR ME!  After that, I became very conscious of being friendly with everyone and never gossiping about other girls.  I wanted to keep that unearned reputation. I liked all the kids at school.  I considered them all my friends.  I made a special friend of one girl, who had not been so well accepted by the other girls.  She was fun and very happy to be brought into the group of girls in our class.  Years later, I was in Penney’s Department Store in Provo.  Suddenly, this woman came running up to me, giving me a big hug.  There she was, a married woman now, struggling through her life, and she was still my friend!  I don’t remember kids talking back to the teachers, but I do remember one kid who just wouldn’t shut up.  He was a disturbance and was warned by the teacher to be quiet.  That particular teacher was my bishop.  When the boy didn’t stop, the teacher marched over to him, grabbed him by his neck, and hauled him out of the class.  We never had disturbances in that class again.  I always did appreciate a classroom I could concentrate in.  Too bad that doesn't happen now. Jean Marie Sorensen and I had a special relationship.  During our junior year, we were flag twirlers with the band.  Neither of us played an instrument, so "Flags" it was.  We went to Salt Lake City and marched in the 1947 Centennial 24^th of July parade.  I remember it being so very hot!  We stayed overnight in the barracks up by the University of Utah. (They are no longer there.) After the parade was over, a bunch of us girls walked around the city.  We were having fun basking in the city atmosphere.  After getting lunch at a Walgreens, we were walking down some steps, and I heard a comment by someone in a group of kids, “You can tell where they’re from,” then they laughed.  I felt burning embarrassment. How quickly a snide remark can change someone’s day. Jean Marie and I used to lie out on our lawns at twilight and dream of our futures.  Somehow it was always a little melancholy to me.  Who knew what life would bring? I could always talk to Jean Marie.  We would talk about the Gospel.  Her mother wasn’t at all religious, but Jean Marie had a grandmother who lived right across the road from her.  She would have great spiritual conversations with her grandmother.  Jean Marie also had an uncle who was deformed and had to be in a wheelchair.  He lived with her grandmother.  Jean Marie loved them both.  Her uncle had been given a Patriarchal Blessing that was beautiful.  I was glad she felt that way about the Gospel.  One night when I was sleeping over at her house, I noticed she always knelt when she said her prayers.  I don’t think my sister, Jean, and I did because it was always freezing in our room during the winter, so we got used to saying our prayers in bed.  After that night, I resolved to say my prayers while kneeling.   Jean Marie and I lived just two blocks from each other.  We would walk with each other a block to the halfway point and then turn and run back the block to our home. There was a black dog that lived halfway between our houses.  It was mean because kids had teased it.  Every time anyone would pass by that dog’s house, he would run to the fence, fling himself at it, and bark ferociously.  At night, when running home, I could almost feel someone behind me ready to grab me.  Or I would just know that dog was going to jump the fence.  Nighttime was always the worse time.  I would run, panting and panicking.    Opening the door to my home, I would quickly step in and close it fast.  Even if it was dark inside and no one else was there, I suddenly felt safe.  I loved that home. One gloomy, spring day, clouds were covering the sky, doing nothing but blotting out the sunshine.  I stood out in my backyard, hopefully looking up and seeing no break in the  clouds.  It had been that way for what seemed like weeks!  I really felt depressed.  It seemed summer was never coming.  I happened to get a date one night, and we went to the movies in Gunnison.  The movie that was playing had a song in it about clouds rolling by and the sunshine right behind them.  For some reason, that song gave me hope.  Often when I am flying in a plane, and we burst through the clouds, and the plane levels out into the sunshine, I remember that day and I feel hopeful.  Just one of those little memories. Barbara Humphrey, a year older than me, was a friend of mine.  She often gave "readings" in school.  Barbara came to me one day and said she couldn’t do a reading she had been asked to give.  She wanted me to give it in her place.  I couldn’t believe she had asked me to do that!  I was uncomfortable being in the limelight and refused.  She kept after me until I said I would try.  That was a social breakthrough for me.  My one big downfall: Our school would take programs to other high schools.  We took our program to Bicknell High School, which was a very small school.  When I walked on to the stage to give my reading, I was shocked at seeing all those kids so close to the stage.  Their gym was so small that when they put up risers, there wasn’t much room between the edge of the stage and the risers.  The reading I had prepared left my mind, and I just stood there, looking at those students, who were looking back at me, DIRECTLY INTO MY FACE! I just turned around and walked back through the curtains.  What an embarrassment! I will never forget it.  I don’t even remember if I was scolded for not performing. Another memory of my mother:  She would be working in the kitchen, while patiently listening to me stumble through a reading while I memorized it.  She was always willing to help me as I learned.  She was also my listener when I memorized plays.  It was probably very boring for her, but she never let on.  I felt complete support. Speaking of support, Salina residents always supported the school’s basketball team. (Football wasn’t played at North Sevier High School.)  The basketball games were always well attended and so fun.  There was always lots of yelling and excitement.  Right after the game was over, the host team would host a dance.  I sometimes I had a regular date set up.  However, sometimes I didn’t, and I would be free to catch the eye of other young men from the visiting team and any other guests from the visiting towns. This happened all over the Conference.  In that way, we would meet kids from Monroe to the South, Gunnison from the North, and all towns in between.  Aurora and Redmond were too small to have their own schools, so they were bussed to Salina.  Richfield also had some smaller communities that went to their high school, Koosherem and Sigard.  Sometimes we would meet kids from Manti.  They were on the edge of our social community. Other  community dances were held Saturday night at the American Legion Hall in Elsinore, a town south of Richfield (25 miles from Salina), and at Gunnison (15 miles to the north).  There were also dances held at Redmond, which had an outdoor dance hall.  We had plenty of chances for dancing.  I once went to a dance at Redmond.  I believe it was held in conjunction with a wedding.  An older man asked me to dance.  He was a little shorter than me.  It was a waltz.  I don’t ever remember being swung around a dance hall so wonderfully…ever!  They knew how to dance in those little towns! The dances were attended by all ages.  I remember once seeing a heavy woman, who was partnered by a smaller man, swinging around the dance hall in perfect rhythm and grace.  I always enjoyed the dances and watching older people dance.  Perk Chidister was the name of the band that played in Elsinore.  Perk played the piano, his wife played the rhythm, and they had a guitar and another instrument or two.  Their music was fun to dance to.   Dances didn’t start until after nine in the evening.  I would have worked hard, cleaning the house or mowing the lawn, or both, during the day.  After I was all ready for my date, I would sit on the couch, practically asleep.  Then I would hear the footsteps leading up to the front door.  Suddenly, the adrenaline would start, and my heart would be pounding, and I would be wide awake and ready to dance the night away! One day Jean and her friend, JoAnn, came to the house with JoAnn’s twin brother, June, who had just joined the army.  For some silly reason, they asked him to kiss me goodbye. (I recently went to June’s funeral.)  He was known in high school as “Romeo” because he kissed so many girls.  He turned out to be a really great guy! I remember my dad telling me to brush my hair a hundred times each night, so it would look shiny. I can also see me standing in the kitchen, turning around so my dad could see if I had drawn the line up the back of my leg straight.  We had to make it look like we were wearing hosiery.  At that time, "hose" had a seam that ran up the back.  So soon after the war, we still couldn’t get hose to wear.  We would color our legs and try to draw that straight line.  I had the feeling my dad was pleased at how I looked.  I was pleased he would want to make sure I looked good before my date came.  It gave me confidence. When young men would come to pick me up for a date, my dad would ask their last names and he could tell them what town they were from.  He knew the names from his own youth when he had dated girls all over the county.  When one mother of a guy I dated found out who I was, she told me that my dad had driven the best looking surrey in town and was the most eligible bachelor around.  I’m sure his horse was good looking, too! One more thing about my dad and mom:  I saw them dance, just once, at a church social.  I loved watching them.  It gave me a new perspective of my parents.  They danced beautifully together.  I was so proud of them. I was thrilled when a young couple, newly married and just graduated from BYU, spoke at our Sacrament Meeting.  Usually our speakers were not very inspiring.  Hearing them speak helped to make the Gospel more wonderful and exciting for me.  I always wanted to know more regarding the Gospel. Several of our youth had talked to our parents, and they in turn had talked to the town leaders to try and get a Teen Canteen going in Salina.  We were one of the towns that didn’t have any place for young people to gather and socialize.  We found a building that was not being used that would have been perfect.  The closest place for young people to go was a "dive" just outside the city limits, where beer and alcohol were served.  We were so disappointed in the City Fathers' attitude.  They had no vision.  I had been to a Teen Canteen at Provo High School where Sister Oaks (Elder Dallen Oaks' mother) had organized.  They had table tennis, pool tables, soft drinks, and places to sit and talk.  I loved it.  But no go in my town!  That is one reason why Salina never grew; we had no progressive leaders. We did have a movie theater in our town, and sometimes that would be the place we would meet other kids and then go from there for a ride, possibly to another town that had more things to do. I took a speech class at school.  It was because of that class that I did some debating.  Our debates were on "socialized medicine."  I studied articles and any information I could find on that subject.  Of course, we had to debate both for and against the topic.  I learned I never wanted to see socialized medicine in our country, and here we are with the Supreme Court arguing it!  I never would have believed it!!  This teacher was also the drama teacher. I Myself and Jean Marie  walking down Main Street Salina in 1945.