Car Problems. Sluffing School

We left in July or August- ish and moved back up to Logan Utah. My dad- turned not dad- was working for the University there and so mom had the chance of going to the University there.
  I figured out how to check myself out of school.
I would feel sick and so I would ask to call my mom. I would, infront of the Secretary at the Front Office "Call my mom". The phone would ring and ring and ring and so I would say, "Hi, Mom, It is me, can you come get me? I feel really sick today" then, as the phone was ringing, I would still talk to it, I would say, "Ok, I will. I love you mom" and I would tell the Secretary, "Mom said to wait outside for her. She will be here soon" the Secretary would then say,"Get better!" and I would sit outside for a minute and then Secretary would get busy doing something and disappear from the window and I would walk home. We lived about three blocks from the school. I would come home and change into my pj's and watch Sesame Street, or the News. I hated Soap Operas. I did this a few times and then, got caught. I was grounded for two weeks. 

My mom bought a car at this same time and she went down to Provo to get it. Us girls had friends and family in Provo so we made a weekend out of it and ran to Provo to get the new car. We were so excited until the car made a noise right as we were getting off the On- Ramp and onto the Highway. Then, the Car stopped and when my mom tried to start it again, it burst into flames. The whole engine literally burst into flames. I have thought about this several times. My mom's reaction was, girls, get out of the car right now, and we did it fast, and then mom told us to go off the road in case the car blew up. (We did not know what to expect!) I was hoping the car would blow up and I just knew that there was someone following us and wanting us dead. My older sister said I watched too many "Charlie's Angels".

We got home safe, and mom got another  "new car" only this time it was a long brown Lincoln.

There is more: How Learned Persuasion

By the time Fourth Grade came around, we had moved back up to Utah. A little town called Logan. 
My mom had decided to head up there and she got a grant to go to the University there. My mom did not like Vegas at all. She missed the mountains and loved the Beaches of California but we didnt have the money to live in Californa and so mom settled for Utah. Familiar Territory. 

We moved into Student Married Housing and  we lived on the third floor of the Apartment Complex. The Problem with the complex was that I had a Guinea Pig. We aren't allowed pets. My mom, God Bless her, HATED rodents and did not really like my Guinea Pig but did in fact decide to endure Valentine. I in hte meantime promised to not ever shove Valentine in my mom's face, clean her cage, feed her, make sure she was well, on my own.  I fed Valentine lots and lots of vegetable scraps, gave her a slat lick, gave her water, and found a system that I would be able to take her out side and let her roam about and not get away. I found a really small leash. I would take her outside and let her play and romp on the grass and bring her in and let her swim in the bath tub. I would blow dry her completely and put her leash back on while I scrubbed the cage. 
 Valentine was my friend. I really hated to part with her. I loved Valentine so much. 
My mom said that I had to get rid of her because the Apratment Complex said that we could not have pets. Well, I told my mom we can just talk to the Manager of the Complex. She said she was not going to because it was not worth it. I told her I will talk to him I decided he needed to meet Valentine because, really once you meet her how can you not fall in love with her. My mom smiled, not telling me she was very doubtful of the out come of the meeting. She set up the appointment. 
Valentine, mom and I went to the meeting. I shook the man's hand and he sat down behind the big desk of which he worked. He was a really tall man and older than my mom with a business suit on.  I was a little scared but I had to do this for Valentine.
I explained to him that I understnad the policy of no pets, but that it only said No Cats, No Dogs. It did not say anything about a Guinea Pig, and Guinea Pig, My Guinea Pig was like a best friend to me. I said that I had money from my allowence saved that I would cover the cost of the Deposit and can I please keep Valentine. He listened to me for a while. Then he was silents pensively thinking after my plea. He asked me if he could hold her. I said Yea. He asked me what I fed my Gunea Pig, how often and who took care of the Gunea Pig. I answered him that I took care of him, cleaned him and the cage, and that I gave him a salt lick and water and I showed him my leash. 
 He was really impressed and said for me to bring in my mom who was out side in the Office Waiting area for us. She came in and He told her that he was impressed with how I was able to talk to him and care for my Guinea Pig and that I was allowed pets, small animals, no Dogs or Cats as long as I took care of them and cleaned them and it did not ruin our Apt. 
YAY! 
We celebrated. I walked Valentine home with mom, and fed her a bunch of broccoli and celery. 
Thus Learning Persuasion    

And So:::

My birth father visited me while I was living in Nevada. I remember some of it.
 I remember we went to the pool a lot. And I remember we stayed int eh Frontier Hotel, which is not there on the strip anymore. I should say Las Vegas is nothing like it was in the 1970's but, I will say the Flamingo hotel was there, and it still is there.
  I remember we stayed maybe two nights with him. It was the third time in my life I saw him, Fourth if you count that time he walked right on by us in the Neil Diamond Concert in Salt Lake City.
 I have pictures of that time. I do not have many with him. But, I will say that I have these pictures and the more I am going through this human experience the more I appreciate the pictures.
I did have a favorite doughnut. It was a Hostess Raspberry Filled. You know the kind with the powered sugar covering it and a sort of cake doughnut with a raspberry filling. I loved those but because we did not have a lot of money, mom did not buy them often. maybe once a year or less. But how I loved them.
Daddy asked me and my sister what we wanted for breakfast, and I said that with chocolate milk, and D said she wanted Hostess Old Fashioned Doughnuts, which was her favorite. He replied with, I am going to go get them, you girls wait here. I do not know what time that was, but it was night and we had spend the evening in the Circus Circus playing all the games and after a long walk on The Strip. We had spent the day swimming the pool and so, I was ready for bed. I woke up the next morning with my dad gone and my sister in the bathroom. He came back while we waited. He did not have doughnuts. We went to JB's Big Boy, and ate pancakes. But I really wanted doughnuts.
  My dad left that fast. As fast as he came, he was gone. I thought I was going to see him again soon.
We always think that things will be the way we want them when we are young and are promised so many things.

But, Wait!

There is MORE! 

  My Third Grade year was a little rough, I guess. I did not realize it until  I looked back three moves in one school year. Let me explain. 

  My mom and dad and us living in the house my dad had, well, things did not always work the way we wanted and my mom packed us girls up and we moved to Las Vegas, sans dad. 

  I remember packing up my room and thinking... Dang, that was an awesome room. I was really sad. It seemed like we left really fast and it was about March or April. My new teacher in E. W. Griffith Elementary was actually really really nice. She was from Australia. Our room was decorated with Pictures of Kangaroos and Koalas you know, our room had an "Outback" theme to it. She was shorter than me, almost, which means she was shorter than 5'4". Yep you got it right. I was TALL. (For all my European or non- American readers, that is 1.62 meters, yes I had to find a converter because I do not know the metric system) 

  Anyway, I had a couple of friends. One friend of mine was Mexican. She seemed really nice. I was invited to her home for a birthday party. I was really excited to go. I bought her a present, and there was all kinds of music and it was a pool party. So, we were told to bring our swim suits. Of course her mom made Enchiladas and we had chips and salsa, it was fun. All the kids in the class came. The girls were to have a sleep over that evening when the boys left at 9:00 pm. All the girls were to go put their swim suits on and the boys too. I went in the bathroom and put mine on. We came out and for some reason, her mother spoke in Spanish about me pointed and me and was really really upset that I was there. To the point that Her mom told me I could not eat at the birthday. I do not know why, I look back and think that this woman had a big problem with white people, because once I thought about it, again. my sisters and I were the only white kids in a neighborhood with many many Blacks and Mexicans. There were three black girls that were nice to me and they laughed when I asked them if they were from Fiji, because I first thought they were from Fiji. They said... Fiji? WHAT IS THAT? So, We laughed and played on the play ground. But I was never invited over to anyone's house. I invited girls to come over all the time, but they always declined. My uncle T moved eventually down the street and around the corner from us and so I would go to my cousins house all the time. 

 My aunts I had two, One R and one named R were also home and my aunt and I shared a room with my older sister and my Guinea Pig. 

 My Grandpa frequently told me, "It is a good thing you are so beautiful because you sure are a brat". My mom would tell him that that was mean and to never say that to my me. My uncles would play the guitar and they were always so nice to have around. I had one uncle who had went on an L.D.S. Mission to Idaho. This is where he met my  aunt and after his Mission he went back to get to know her as a normal kid off his Mission. He married her. My second Uncle,S went on a Mission to Spain. I believe he was in the Madrid area. He might have not been married but barely coming back from his Mission and my third uncle went on a Mission to Sacramento, California. This was most fortuitous. I say this because the Mission covered a lot of Northern California and at the time my Aunt who lived with us in California was living there with her son, and she was not always there. Her son ended up having to be cared for by her ex-husband, his father, who was not a really nice guy and I would even go far as to say he was a drunk. So, my uncle would be able to drop in on him if he was in the area. This area is a small town called Gridley, California.  That city is also the birth place of my own mother. 

  So, my uncle, Ray, was getting off his Mission while my fourth uncle and last uncle was going on a Mission to Indiana. My grandpa worked hard as did my grandma. They worked as gardeners for a man that is very famous in the Vegas area, who would sing live and do Vegas Shows on the Strip while people watched and ate dinner. The Strip in those days ended at "The Frontier Hotel" and further down teh street was "The Flamingo" which is still famous and one of the few that did not get the axe when reconstructing the Strip to what is is today. 

My mom found a job working as an on call babysitter. This means that she qualified for a babysitting license in the State of Nevada and she would work for hotels being a babysitter for people that wanted to come to Vegas to gamble, and needed a babysitter. My mom also got accepted to UNLV. In the Psychology Department. My mom had a teacher in Hawaii she just adored. This Professor of hers renewed her love to study the English Language, and Poetry. But om wanted to be a Child Psychologist or something along those lines. 

 Mom worked her tail off supporting us kids and worked lots of hours. She studied hard and went to school and worked. Us kids were with her family and it was nice for us to all be together. I would sometimes got ot work with Grandma and Grandpa at the house that they were Gardeners for. The famous person that they worked for was really nice and let me play in the swimming pool. He said he sang and so I would ask him to sing me a song. He would sing me a song and I would say... You should sing this song, I mean... Everyone knows it because it is on the radio" he would laugh and say "touché babe". I look back at those conversations and think... Why did I not appreciate this man singing to me? DAAAANG!!! And I think ı might have a picture of me with him tucked away somewhere. but, you know, I was not raised to be that way. I was raised that everyone is normal. That Fame is nothing if you are not a good kind person. I was taught that really it all comes down to is we are all people. That his fame was a job, but really in the whole grand scheme of things, it is what YOU are... Not your occupation. So, I did not understand at the time who he really was. Now, I think... Wow... I was raised to not think of it as a big deal. Mind you he was not always home, but, from time to time he was there. He had a big beautiful house but no one home to share it with. That to me struck me as sad. I would ask him that, if he was lonely. He would smile and tell me to go enjoy his pool. I did. It was so hot in Las Vegas, I loved swimming in the pool. He had a couple of horses, a Loganberry Tree, hardly any neighbors for miles, lots of land and my grandparents were really good at caring for it. My Grandpa built him a shed or two, a nice garage, made his fence surrounding his property, did all kinds of work on his property. My Grandma made him dinners and cleaned his house. My grandma for a gift for him being so kind made him a quilt too. Grandpa took care of his animals. They worked hard for this man and he was a good employee. 

  I think it was a great Summer that year. I look back fondly. 

(Looking for a picture to stick here... Sigh... I lost a file somewhere. My pictures need to be filed better)

  

Do you believe in Hauntings?

I do not know if I do or not. I do not know what to believe sometimes. But, I will say this. What I experienced in that house and what my family did, was real. And I am not exaggerating. I can not lie. And I would be a good Novelist, however, these are true life human experiences that I had, mixed in with different people and things only to protect the identity of those who are living. Especially my mom because she is a very private person. And Me because my mom would be mortified if she knew I was writing these. My mom would think I am finding fault with her and I have said time and time again, my mom is awesome and amazing and I love her. I do not have anything bad to say or think of her. My mom is a doll and my dearest protector. My mom sometimes forgets many things I remember. My dad seems to think my memories of certain events are fictitious and that through out time being an adult, my memory has become just a great story. But, I say, I remember many many things that detail can not make up.  And there are somethings that my mind has chosen to forget. For example. Mrs Widow Stanley. This point in my life, I have forgotten her. But, there in this home lies something very sinister. Dark Shadows. This I can not explain. Let me tell you what happened to me in this home

The first couple of days we moved in, things were hazy for me. You know, boxes, the smell of fresh paint, new beds, old familiar things mixed in with new things. 

 I wanted to explore the house. I felt that there was more than I knew about it. My pet Guinea Pig was furry and a baby still and white. All white. I assumed because she had pink eyes she was a she. My mom was kind about her but really, my mom in retrospect hated anything but Bunnies. Looking back, If I had a bunny with long floppy ears and white with black eyes or brown eyes and furry and floppy my mom would have held the bunny. But Guinea Pigs to her were tail-less rats. And mine squeaked. Which my mom I think she tried and tried to think it was cute. But, remembering her face, I think after wards when trying to hold her, she would shutter. I am smiling right now because my mom hated me having her but was happy to see me with a pet whom I loved. Valentine had a cage. When she was tiny tiny, she did not know that a box could be eaten through. But, The first night I was there, she had eaten a hole in her box, and dad and mom realized I needed something metal to hold my Guinea Pig. We went to the store after school and found a bigger type cage because we did not know how big Valentine would get. we got the biggest Rabbit cage we could find and Dad said if she grows bigger than that, we will have a problem. The cage was so big, I remember thinking my little impish sister could fit in it. I would have tried if I did not get in huge trouble. Mom was very protective of her and getting more so. It seemed the older my little got, the more mean she got, and the more her and I fought. My older sister and I would try to include her in our secrets or games, but things always went awry  when we planned to make amiable games or time with her. In this home, however, my little sister was scared. I mean scared. I thought at first that she was not used to having her own room. She never had in her life before. Danae did, from time to time, but I shared with Chimera all the other times. Chimera was now in Second Grade, and I was in Third. I was nine years old and Chimera was still seven, but turning eight. She started getting night terrors and honestly she had them in the past, but not like these. Mom would try to consul her and they were horrible. However, she had a hard time explaining the dreams too. They were just horrible dreams. Danae allowed her to sleep in her room with her, and sometimes when Danae would be at a friends for the night, she would come into my bed with me and sleep. 

  Every night with out fail, my Guinea Pig would be on my bed. Guinea Pigs do not climb and are more burrowers. I would out my Guinea back in her cage. Lock the cage and she would be out again.  

That was the first strange thing. 

  The next strange thing was my closet. 

Chimera was always afraid of closets at night, and I thought she was joking when she said my closet was creepy to her. Even to the point that she would laugh and laugh and I thought she was playing an impish joke with me. 

 One day I was up stairs in my room alone. I saw a door in the back of my closet. I was curious as to where it went and what it was for. I never saw a door in the back of my closet. I cleaned my room eery other day, got dressed, even organized my closet every Saturday, but how that door never came to my attention before I never understood . I asked my aunt (my uncle's wife) about the door. "There is a door? I did not know there was one."  My uncle Tim did not know either. He was the one that remodeled the home.

I dreamed that night that all of the upper house was in shambles. The Oak wood that was our home flooring was gray and full of rot. I do not remember much of the dream, but I woke up and went to the window. It was rainy outside and as I looked out the window there was a light on the ground. the whole out ofdoors was black as black as ebony yet the light was white, a transparent white. I kept looking at it and the light got a little bigger, and floated up to my window and in the light was a creature. It was scary. I thought it looked like an old woman but I can not say. I ran back to my bed. Again, Valentine was on my bed. How she got there, still I have no idea. I put her back in her cage and locked the cage, and laid under my covers, looking at my closet, and the door that was in the back of the closet was opened. I turned over to my left side and hid deeper in my covers. I was just "fracking" scared. I fell asleep again. Chimera came in my room a couple hours later. She kept kicking Danae and Danae had enough. I was too scared to turn her away and so she slept with me. But was not allowed to touch me with her feet. 

The next day I told my mom about my dream and about everything that I saw. My mom said it was all a bad dream. 

 It was a day where there was no school because I wanted to do some more looking around. I asked m y aunt what was down stairs. In the basement. She was in the kitchen. She needed to get something down there anyway and told me to see for myself. I did. It was about noon time and my Aunt Maren was making Spaghetti and she always canned fruits and vegetables. She wanted some tomatoes which she stored in the cellar and asked me to have a look down stairs and while coming back up to please bring her some tomatoes on the shelf. I obliged and went to the cellar. the stairs to the cellar were wide. Unlike David's mom's cellar that was outside and a hole dug in the ground and scary and creepy this one was inside a house. the stairs were concrete and covered with marble and leading to a basement with pillars that supported the house. All of it had some windows, rectangles that were longer than wider, and so there was day light that would come through, and there were lights down there. Although that day they did not work. No matter I thought, because it was sunny outside and I could still see pretty well. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, rats were all over. They were on the shelves, on the floor crawling all over the walls and they were all over the support columns. They were on the shelves that I had to get to to get the tomatoes and on the floor near the shelves was a dead something. I saw teeth, I saw it was rotting dead, I smelled a strange stench and it was freezing cold down there. I screamed and ran upstairs. 

 To let you all know, I had a speech impediment. I stuttered and stammered horribly.  I could pronounce my letters by the time I was 6, I could read and write beautifully, I could talk but my tongue was just not allowing me to say it as fast as I wanted to nor as fast as I was thinking. I stuttered quite badly. It took me a long time to say what I needed to say. When I ran up those steps screaming all I could spit out was "r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-RATS" My mom was not home, she was going to school. My uncle was at school too. My dad was at work but all us kids and Aunt Maren were home. Aunt Maren KNEW and believed me that there was something terrifying down there and she ran down there. The light worked and nothing was there. Nothing. It was clean, with rows and rows of shelves and a cool cellar for storing our food. But she believed me because she knew the house like I did. 

  My mom and dad were not unbelievers of the house, I think that my mom did not want me scared. My mom has this perpetual positive way of thinking which is a good quality in one, however, she perpetual positive thinking left little room to believe that I saw what I saw. My mom's conclusion was that I told too many ghost stories and that I was letting my imagination go wild. My dad's was too. My dad being in the line of work he was in, thought it was my imagination mixed with stress of a marriage, a new family life and moving twice in one year that made it more stressful for me and so I had a more vivid imagination than my sisters.

  My dad has a son that is close to my age. He would come and visit us on the weekends. We enjoyed him coming. My dad went however this time to go visit him for the weekend and it was on this weekend that something more terrifying happened to me. Again, mom was gone, but maybe either studying in the library and grocery shopping while Aunt Maren again was home but this day my uncle Tim was home. and same with my little sister and baby cousins.  I was in my room again. This time, I was playing with my sister, Chimera. She always seemed braver than I in the day time, and at night she was scared. I was opposite. In this house, at least. We were in my room playing with records on my Mickey Mouse Record player when the door to my closet opened. "Chimera," I said, "Look! I told you I have a door. You did not believe me". 

"Oh heck, what is in thewe, Dee?" "I don't know. Want to come with? I don't want to go alone". 

 "But, why I didn't see it befowe" (Chimera could not pronounce her "R" sound.) "Awe you scawed? I am not." "Then, come with. We will go together" "You go fiwst. It is youw woom." "OK."I took two steps in and she slammed the door behind me laughing. I tried the door, but it felt locked. She locked the door? She was laughing but it was a strange laugh. It was deep. It sounded mean, too. "Let me out" I was stuttering. Badly. Her joke went terribly awry. According to her, she was going to come in with me, but thought it would be funny to try to scare me and she closed the door. She intended to reopen the door, but, it would not open. It took me years to believe that she was intending to come in in the first place. And, yet the strange part is this:  I screamed and yelled and shouted, but no one heard me. And when I was finally let out of the room, my uncle had to use a sledge hammer and  saw and knock out and cut the wall of my closet, because there was no door. The room was about 10 feet by 10 feet and just like in my dream. Everything was gray. There was a candle stick on a small what appeared to be a bed side table. And a window. The window was the same size as mine in my room. It was covered though, or not a lot of light came from it. It was as though this was sealed up a long time ago. 

  By the time my uncle got me out, there was a hole in my closet the size of me to squeeze out of and as soon as I came out of the room both my aunt and uncle engulfed me in their arms. I felt safe. My uncle that night, before I went to bed, patched the hole in my closet and said my room closet will never ever open again. He was right. It did not. Chimera could have never known what was going to happen. And what she saw when I was in the room I do not know, and she does not remember this incident, but, According to my aunt years later, when we talked about it, she did not hear me. I did not come down for dinner and she looked all over for me before Chimera said anything about the door. My aunt felt that she should have gotten in trouble for hiding the fact that I was engulfed in an attic, with out the possibility of escape and she knew it but refused to say anything. Whether she wanted me in there, thought it was a game or was scared that she would get in trouble, I will not know. But, a normal reaction of a child who sees their sister in distress is to run for help. Chimera never did. But then again, Chimera was not a normal child, and this house was not a normal house. 

Years later when I was about 22 or 23 I spend a week with my aunt in Nevada. Far away in time and place from the home. I told her all I remembered. She told me little, but sat and listened and said, "That house was evil, Deej, pure evil." She said that once while she was home alone as my uncle had to work a night shift, she heard something in the Formal Sitting Room. We had long moved out of the house. She said that she heard her silverware clanging. She thought maybe my uncle came home from work early. The house was quiet, but that. She said that she got up to investigate and when she did, her sliver knives were flying (or thrown) towards her and she ducked and ran into her kids room to see if they were OK. She said there were many many scary bad things that happened in that house, spirits hoovering over my cousins, and they were not able to sleep. I said to her that my mom kept telling me that my experiences in that home were only a bad dream. She smiled and said, "Yes, that sounds like your mother".  My mom never believed me nor my aunt, and my sister Danae has no memory of our childhood. I think she would assume forget somethings. I would like to know what she does remember, just for fun sake. I know she has since visited the home because now it is a Museum, and is on the registry of Historical Homes. I understand the haunting(s) stopped, or rather, they did not follow my aunt and uncle and their family. So, I think it is located in just that home.

Maybe some of it were in my dreams, but there are some things that you just can not invent. I did not invent those memories of that home. Sadly, we moved. Although I found the home rather scary, I still liked it. It was an old Victorian style, and I thought it was a pretty home. But, we moved. And with that came another new part in our lives. 

This is not my picture. It is from the webpage: whatliesbeyond4you taken by Chris Matheny.

  

Something Different

Last time I wrote, I had shared some things about my schooling in Logan. I did like it there. However, it was different for me and I had not a lot of friends. I did have a couple as I remember having them, but I can not recall their faces. Only hair. And I do recall my teacher. For I hated Math but loved reading. 

 My dad's mother, Grandpa Andrews, lived in Logan. Just down the street from us.

 He had lived in Logan all his life and my Grandma had worked in the small city. In those days everyone knew everyone else and Cache County was known for it's farming. Cheese was produced here and still is and is known all over the Western States for it's production of Cheddar Cheese. The Color comes from a plant in South America that gives it the rich orange color. Many people do not know that. 

  When Grandpa Andrews died, he left his property to his daughter, my dad's mother. (this is to protect the identity of what is true or false or exaggerated or not... As I do not wish to divulge too much about me... OR maybe I do? Not many of you read this anyway.)

My father was given this property and we decided to move into it. 

 My father had decided to ask my mom's brother who was going to USU, to fix up the house with us. He, his wife and two children lived in the bottom half of the house while we took the upper living quarters. 

The house had a big lot. The house was huge, one of the first mansions in Logan, and on this lot sat two houses. A North house was a 1923 bungalow style that Grandpa Andrews lived in with his family, and to the South of his house (which faced North) was our house that faced East and behind us was a rather large patch of dry and hardened dirt that was intended for a parkway for our cars. It was a rather large one. 

 All of this and 80 Acres in Logan Canyon belonged to my new dad. 

I went to see the house with my dad, mom and uncle for the first time. It was a mess. The outside of the house was boarded up and had been untouched, the lawn was untouched too, except for a once a week weed whacking or lawn mowing. That was the easy part. Inside was project after project. Whiskey, and beer bottles everywhere, graffiti, and years of neglect had made the once mansion a big big shell. 

a few weeks later, and to my shock I could not tell it was the same home. As I walked in the front door, I noticed the Formal Salon was no longer a wreckage of  unwanted trash by squatters throughout the years. It was in fact, a beautiful Formal Sitting room. To the left of the entrance was a living room that was neatly furnished and there were two bedrooms and a bathroom that were probably used as servant living quarters in the days this home was built (probably circa 1874-1876) Beyond the living room were French Doors that lead to a Kitchen and that had been modernized and gutted into a really pretty Kitchen. There were stairs and a landing going to the basement and up the stairs. to the right of the Kitchen before the stairs was another hallway that lead to a couple ore bedrooms and another bathroom.

I ran up the stairs with my older sister and we both chose our bedrooms, that was easy. She chose the first bedroom on the top  of the stairs. It was the biggest with two windows. One facing East and the other facing south. Chimra chose the second biggest bedroom in the Middle with two windows facing the south and I chose the last smallest bedroom with one window facing south. My bedroom had a nice closet and hardwood floors and an old rocking chair. It had a couple of old fashioned shelves and a bed that looked like the Quakers built it.  My mom must have found some really pretty handmade quilts from somewhere or had them or something. I loved my room. My bed was small but it suited me. It was a twin. 

My older sister and I were given dolls from our Great Grandma who was Native American. The dolls were not playing dolls but were a long time before. They were made of leather with real black hair, skirts of bright velvet and beads glass beads for necklaces. They had beaded moccasins for shoes and I proudly displayed my doll on my bed, as did Danae, even though Danae hated dolls she really liked her "Indian Doll".  Chimra tried to tear up her doll and so mom gave Chimera's doll to me because I took care of my things, and my dolls. I also had my "Official Muppet Show Fan Club" paraphernalia out proudly so all could see it. Dad would not let me put posters on walls so mom found a good compromise. Mom framed my posters like they were real pictures. I loved it. I had a record player in my room that was a Mickey Mouse record player. The hand had the needle, and when I wanted to play 45's, I could by pulling up the white tab in the middle  of the round about. Mom bought me a Guinea Pig. I named her Valentine. She went in my room and I cleaned her cage every other day and did not even have to buy a lot of saw dust now that uncle was making our house pretty. We loved our new house.

 Little did we know the terrors that awaited us in this house of wonderment, enchantment and our antique mansion of mystery.  

This is not the house I lived in although my Great Grandmother on my Step- Grandmother's side was indeed an Eccles and did indeed grow up in this very house. For this reason I posted this house and not the one that in fact is still standing in Logan, near this home. However, It does have somewhat the same flair as the Eccles Mansion...

Now Comes New

My new dad, and mom needed to go live in Logan and so us three girls went with.
 We lived in a house that was a bungalow style. It was three bedrooms and there were two downstairs but we rented them out to renters as there was a full basement. I had to share with my younger sister Chimera. She was annoying to share with. She had a bed wetting problem and she would insist on sleeping on the top bunk. Need I say more? There was a small school we attended called Ellis. The school was nice enough. I made a couple of friends. I was in the Third Grade. My problem was not kids. It was Math. I was so bad at Math and I tried and tried but it was the late 1970's and in those days, the teachers sat in front of you, told you what the world was like and you did homework and that was that. I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to fly. I recall I would draw a lot and they were always flying things. I would draw cars that flew. I day dreamed a lot too. I did not want to be there. I was always reading about far away places and people and my mind was always off in another place. Especially when it came to Math Time in the class room. I was determined to try to do just enough Math to get good grades. My reading was outstanding. Where I failed in Math was given to me a thousand fold in reading and comprehension skills. Why the Education Gods did not want me to learn Math, would be forever a mystery for me. And a struggle. I would have to separate from the class during reading and I would be put in front of this big screen and the film would start, revealing a word at a time. There would be a story we would have to read, and the sentence would come up but depending on how fast the teacher put up the speed of the words coming on the screen, I would have to read them. Then, after, a series of questions and then the next story. I was so bored. The stories were ok but reading was so slow. I would tell the teacher how boring it was, and I would end up  wanting to do other things. Sharing with someone in class was torture for me too.
  It was not because I did not like to share, I was a really nice kid. I just hated sharing with other kids because I did not want germs touching me. I loved and hated school. One thing I hated was the fact that it was so dirty and I would think... I am going to get a disease and die here in the school and no one will notice it is from all these germs. I cleaned out my desk and cleaned the top of my desk every day. One day, because it was so cold outside, and Logan is far more cold than Provo, I asked the teacher if I would be able to stay inside recess and clean the table tops. She liked that and I did. Then after, I sat at my desk and read "Johnny Tremain" a story about a boy who helped Paul Revere in the Revolution. Sometimes I read encyclopedias and other times I was forced to go outside and try to play with my friends.
 There was one girl I quite liked. She was really a nice girl named L But, we did not keep in touch.
My older sister had many friends. One day she was walking home from seeing her friends when a guy started following her and when she walked faster, so did he. She did not make it quite home when she ran to the steps of a strangers house and knocked on teh door and went inside. She came home a little late and told my mom about it. My sister did not get a good description of the man, she was in the 5th grade and really scared.
About two weeks later, I was walking home. I too had a similar experience only, I ran and I stopped running and he kept his distance behind me but again, he was there. I could not see his face, also, but I could see he was wearing thick rimmed eye glasses and he had a long black coat. He wore a hat, like a business hat. I came upon a house but the lady was in my mom's ward. I did not have to go into strangers house, like my sister. I called mom. She came in a car to get me. we drove up and down a couple of streets to find him and could not but we did call the police. After that mom or dad drove us to school.
 I was teased a lot in school for being so tall. My fellow students said really cruel things to me especially the boys. So, a couple of days before my birthday, I decided to knock down those boys in a battle of "King of the Hill" I am not sure if anyone is aware of how to play but the rules are simple and the game is too. The snow that is packed at one side of a play ground to clear for children to play is the object of the game. Getting to the top of  of the mound of snow and pushing off everyone that comes to the top is your goal, to be King. Now, I thought I made this game up because once I was standing on the snow mount and some smaller boys came up to my friend and I. Tired of them bullying me and my friend, when they came up and were once again being rude, I shoved them off the hill and I said I was King of the Hill and it was mine and to back off. Of course that got more kids thinking how cool a game. I did not know it would be such a hit, but it was. My friend and I wanted to keep the Hill as Ours and on this day, the battle was fierce. The Battle was tough. I was wearing a new silk shirt my mom bought me. I looked so pretty that day. I had forgotten to wear pants. What can I say, I was Tomboy sometimes and other times I was a girly- girl. I wore a wool brown skirt with brown thick tights and a cream silk and light blue shirt and I made my hair pretty. I wore brown boots and my orange and brown coat and went to school. Playing King of the hill was hard in a skirt. I got to the top of the snow Hill which was packed snow and smooth. It had become ice. I fell at the top and hit my chin on the packed snow.  My jaw was swollen for three weeks and I was in so much pain. I fell so hard that I had a black eye from the fall. The next day was picture day and my birthday. The rest of the day I was in pain and I did not call home but I did just lay my head on the desk. My mom saw my chin and gasped, "What Happened???" I told her about how I was trying to throw the boys off the hill with bonnie and how we were playing King of The Hill. My mom did not appreciate games and power and the need to be the King of the Hill like I did. she did not understand it at all. As I look back, I even think she said something about how I should not ever even be on the hill in the first place. And went as far as saying I should just do something else. I was so shocked. I was not going to give up my power of the Hill. That Hill was mine. Those boys had no right to it and I made up the game. (Well, That was in my mind, and sadly, Mom disagreed)
 The next day, I got a picture taken. Swollen Jaw, scratches and all.

Sadly, The actual photo I have of that day is not with me right now. This was taken a year later.