A Dream Without Works is Dead

   My father and I had just returned home from watching Merrill, my older brother by 18 months, play a junior varsity basketball game at Granger High School in the fall of 1964. At the time, I was a ninth-grader at a beautiful new junior high school named Westlake, which is located in Granger, which is now incorporated as West Valley City.

Westlake Jr. High in 2015, the year of its 50th anniversary. I
was among the first graduating class from the new school.

   My ninth-grade school year was a pretty heady time for me. I was a member of the Westlake Junior High School basketball team. I had “fought my way” onto the team after many years of imaginary basketball games alone, one-on-one with Merrill, and with neighborhood friends and others who might venture by our “basketball emporium” in the driveway of our home in Granger.
   Dad had put up a basketball hoop with a wood backboard on the front of the garage. Almost year-round the neighbors and Mom knew where we were because of the thud, thud, thud of a bouncing basketball on the concrete, the clang of the ball hitting the metal hoop or someone’s body slamming up against the garage door. To this day I can’t understand how that garage door withstood all the punishment and still opened and closed just fine. But more often we’d open the garage door and move the car out so we could make layups and then in one motion duck into the garage so we wouldn’t hit our heads on the wall above the opened garage door.
   Dribbling the ball on the uneven, cracked and crumbling driveway was actually part of our “skills training” – if we could dribble on that mess without looking down at the ball, we could easily dribble the ball on the fine wood gym floors at school or at church. In fact, because Merrill and I had memorized every crack and every crumbling spot on the drive-way, we took advantage of the visiting players, who had to keep a close eye on the ball for fear of losing their dribble. But when they were looking at the ball, we were making a quick move at a steal. 
   If I wasn’t doing chores like taking out the garbage, washing the dishes, cleaning the house, weeding Mom’s roses in the front yard, weeding the garden out behind the garage and “bomb shelter,” or working at the old apartments just off the railroad tracks at 600 West and 600 North in Salt Lake, then I would be out on the drive-way practicing. Hour after hour and day after day I would practice layups and jump shots – finding the perfect spots that would reward me most often with a swish of the basketball going through the hoop.
   Those years of practice were interrupted by two shoulder surgeries because I had bad shoulders. It didn’t take much for them to dislocate. Just before entering seventh grade, doctors operated on my right shoulder – taking a piece of my right upper hip and pinning the piece into my shoulder socket to help complete the socket. During the recovering, I learned how to dribble with my left hand. I also learned to make layups and shoot with my left arm.

Last days of the Valley Vu Drive-In in Granger,
Utah. Credit: Chris Greenwell

   The following summer, after the my right arm had recovered from surgery, Mom and Dad went to the Valley Vu Drive-In about a mile away from home while several of our friends came over to watch “Nightmare Theater.” It was a perfect evening! I had just dined on my favorite food at the time – stuffing down two hotdogs with mustard and a bunch of chips – while watching TV. Gene Openshaw came back from the kitchen with a second plate of food and went to sit down next to me on the couch. I put my hand out to reserve the spot (I probably was just teasing because I did that a lot), but he sat down anyway – right on my arm. My shoulder popped out of place – but this time it stayed out. That was very unusual. In fact, the doctors had always wanted to get a picture of the shoulder when it was out and even had tried once to slip it out themselves – to no avail. But this time it was out and was staying out. I was screaming bloody murder! Merrill quickly got on the phone and called the drive-in. Fortunately, that was back before movie theaters got recorded messages, so he was able to get through to someone live. They located Dad and Mom, and they rushed home. Dad carefully got me out to the car and took me to Granger Medical Center about 10 minutes away. All the while I was crying in agony – every slight bump or jar would send shockwaves of pain through my body. When we finally arrived at

Dad said I was always like a geyser when throwing up!

Granger Medical, I was given a pain shot. When the doctor arrived, he was “excited” to get some X-rays while the shoulder was still dislocated. I was wheeled into X-ray room and put on the X-ray table, which was a “ton of fun.” But by then I was getting really sick to my stomach. I told Dad I was going to throw up. He warned the doctor, so the doctor got a little throw-up bowl and put it up to the side of my mouth. Dad warned him that it wasn’t going to be big enough – but it was too late! Like a volcano, all those pieces of hotdogs, mustard and chips came roaring out of my mouth and plastered my doctor, who tried to jump back and avoid the eruption. Too late, his suit was soiled from his tie down to his pants with all the remnants of my late dinner! Dad was having a hard time not laughing, the doctor was standing there in shock – he had never seen such a yellow geyser! But I was feeling a lot better!
   They took the X-rays, and then my doctor had to put the arm back in place. That really felt weird – not to mention painful! He had to literally pull on my arm and push his knee up against my side and slowly twist it back into place! When it popped back into place, I thought I was going to die! I was off the basketball court for a few weeks.
      A few weeks later I was scheduled to go to Scout camp, but I was very nervous because my left shoulder wasn’t completely healed from the “geyser episode.” But I wanted the canoeing merit badge. The problem was, though, I had to pass my swimming badge requirements in the cold mountain lake with a bum left shoulder – and I hadn’t been able to pass the swimming requirements in previous attempts in a warm swimming pool out in Magna where our Scout troop went once a month.

Merrill about the time of our Scout camp
in 1965, pictured in his Sunday attire
when he was a priest.

   Surgery on my left shoulder was already scheduled to take place right after the Scout camp. I decided I would try and gut it out in southern Idaho. I have no idea where it was because I was in the back of a pickup in the dark. Mr. Kershaw (the father of Merrill’s girlfriend and future wife) drove us up and back to camp. Merrill and Gene Openshaw or Bruce Sharp (I’m not sure which of the two), sat in front seat of the pickup with Mr. Kershaw and the rest of us were in the open back of the pickup with a camper shell cover over the back.   Swimming was really hard on my shoulders. But if I was to do any canoeing and get a canoeing merit badge, I had to get the swimming badge first. I remember praying to my Father in Heaven to help me make the long swim and not let me drown. I remember that I took a lot longer than normal to make the swim because I did the backstroke most of the way and took my time. But I passed the requirement – actually I really shocked myself – and got to do all the canoeing I wanted, earned a canoeing merit badge and had a fun camp.
   On our way home, we stopped just out of camp at a nature lake. I think Mr. Kershaw wanted to fish or check out the lake. I was doing a little exploring myself. That’s when I picked up, with my left hand, some type of bug or worm or whatever, and it bit me – or stung me or something – and I threw my arm up to get rid of it as fast as I could. That’s when I heard my left shoulder crack like it was a hard pretzel – more than just one crack. I thought I had dislocated my shoulder again – which happened way too often. It hurt like crazy – but then I was always hurting my shoulders. Merrill’s reaction was – here we go again! He was sorry – but …
   I rode the rest of the way home in the back of the pickup, bouncing around and clutching my arm – trying to keep it in one place so it wouldn’t hurt more than it did.
When we got home, Dad took me to the doctors, and they X-rayed the shoulder. I had broken the shoulder socket in half and the socket had broken away from the shoulder. They were going to operate on it anyway – so they moved up the surgery right there.
They used staples to connect the socket together and connect the socket to the shoulder and then tightened up the shoulder ligaments so the shoulder didn’t have as much range but didn’t so easily come out of socket.

Lee in front of the juniper tree at our home in
Granger in 1965.

   A few months later I was back on the basketball court. My dream was to first make the junior high basketball team and then the high school team – like Merrill. I tried to pattern my play after Jerry West of the Los Angeles Lakers and Oscar Robertson. They were incredible dribblers, shooters and team players.
   I could have given up I don’t know how many times. But I loved being able to make a shot, to dribble without anyone being able to get the ball away from me, and to make the pass that won the game.
   Dad had taught us from a young age how to work – and Merrill and I used that in sports. Merrill was great at all sports, but I was too frail for football, didn’t have the arm to throw a baseball very far or to bat well. In fact, when I did hit the ball, I wondered why it hurt my shoulders so much. It didn’t seem to hurt anyone else like that. But basketball was a different story. It didn’t hurt my shoulders to dribble the ball and it didn’t hurt my shoulders to shoot – unless someone blocked the shot – which I diligently tried to avoid. I felt I was a very good basketball player – especially for such a little guy.
   Between the seventh and ninth grades, I grew about six inches. Finally, I was tall – I thought. In fact, I was five-feet, four and ½ inches tall.
   During ninth grade, I couldn’t be in the school’s mixed chorus because it was held during the same period as a geometry class that Mom and Dad wanted me to take. I had shown an aptitude for math back in fourth grade and had progressed so that I was about a year advanced in math – and they wanted me to keep going in that area.
So, because I wasn’t in choir, I think I put my focus on making the junior high school basketball team. Plus I was in a new school, and everyone was new to the school. The drawback for me in our neighborhood was that I had attended Monroe Elementary my first six grades, then Kearns Junior High for seventh, Brockbank Junior High for eighth, and now Westlake for ninth grade – and all while living in the same house in Granger.

Photo was posted on the bulletin board
in the gymnasium after being named
by Coach Newton' as the most
physically fit among his gym classes
at Westlake Jr. High in fall of 1964.

So I didn’t have very many friends outside of our neighborhood.
   My gym coach at Westlake was Coach Newton, who was scheduled to be the head coach of the school basketball team. I thought that because he had seen me play a lot of basketball in class I probably had a good chance of making the team. I even received an “award” from Coach Newton for being the most physically fit student in all of his gym classes (he taught more than half of the gym classes). I could do more pushups, sit-ups and jumping jacks combined than any of the other guys in Coach Newton’s classes. It got to the point where I could run home from school – which was over a mile – without stopping. That was a long way for me.
   When tryouts came for basketball, I made all the cuts – except for the last one.
   When I didn’t officially make the team – I decided not to give up but to talk to Coach Newton. I told him I felt I was as good as several on the team and really would do anything to be on the team. Besides, I was willing to be the last or the second to last guy on the team. He finally relented. I had worked hard, I was determined, and I was gutty enough to talk the coach into letting me be on the team.
   Dad called me a “Banny rooster.”
   I played a total of 1½ minutes in regulation play – but I loved the excitement of the games and even just doing the warm-ups in uniform before the games. It was a chance for me to show off my dribbling skills – dribbling behind my back and doing a layout all in one motion. It actually was a real confidence booster for me in life – but still humbling because I didn’t get to play much at all.

Playing catch with Merrill in Liberty
Park in Salt Lake City in the spring of
1965, after I had had a "growth spurt."

    Some time during that basketball season, Dad and I sat in the old Buick in the driveway after one of Merrill’s games. I don’t remember how we got into the discussion or why we were sitting there in the car, but Dad asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up.
   My dream from the time I first watched my uncles Vivian, David and Clifford play for Bingham High School was to play basketball. So I told Dad I wanted to play professional basketball. I don’t remember if he laughed or what – but he pointed out that the chances of me making a living at playing basketball weren’t too promising. He wasn’t discouraging me from going after that dream but he suggested I think about an alternative course – or dream.
   He asked me what I would do if I didn’t make it as a professional basketball player. I thought about that for a minute and then said what I thought was a very practical alternative – “I’ll be a professional singer like Mario Lanzo.”
   Dad said, “Yes, you’re a really good singer, but what are the chances of you making a living as a professional singer?” I thought the chances were actually pretty good – since singing came so naturally to me.
  Dad then asked me what I would do if that dream didn’t work out. I thought about that for a while and realized I really didn’t have another alternative. Maybe I could become a scientist or engineer like Vivian, David and Clifford were doing in California.

I had a lead part in my drama class production of "Drop Dead"
at Westlake Jr. High during the spring of 1965.

   Dad then asked me what I would need to do to accomplish that. I answered that I would need to do really good in school and then graduate from college.
   He said that would be a very good alternative dream if the other two don’t work out. He pointed out that I would need to work very hard in school and earn money for college because the family didn’t have any funds to send us kids to college. He said that if I would hold on to those dreams and work at them, something would work out – and that I would find a career I would enjoy.
   Funny how that short talk in an old Buick with Dad that night was so right on: I didn’t make the high school basketball team – though I still think I would have been a starter at a small school like Richfield High School. The top basketball honor I received was being named to the Church Stake All-Stars team and playing in the All-star game. I remember I had a lot of fun practicing for that game and playing in the game.
   I did have a lot of success singing and even made Madrigals my senior year, but my singing career ended pretty much in college.

There's Lee on the right end of the second row up during
a performance of the Granger High Madigrals in 1967-68.

   However, Merrill’s involvement in high school athletics helped me get on as a manager on the high school football team, which led to being manager of the basketball team for all three years of high school. That and a suggestion and encouragement from an English teacher named Miss Plant led to my writing for the school paper as sports editor. And my involvement in singing and athletics and writing on the school paper I think helped me get elected as president of the Associated Lancer Men my senior year. And all of that combined reaped an academic scholarship to BYU and a scholarship to be a football manager at BYU, which led to my mission, where I served half my mission as the public relations director in the mission home.

After completing my degree at BYU at the end
of 1973, I started as the obit writer at the
Deseret News, soon moving on to the copy
desk. I hung up my tools there after 33 years.

   When I returned home, minus a leg, I still had a dream and a plausible career – which led to a thirty-three year career as a copy editor and copy chief of the church’s newspaper, the Deseret News. Life has been a whirlwind – really! I suppose that’s why I remember so many things from when I was young – it seems like just yesterday! 
   My life moved so slowly when I was young. I wanted to grow up and get on with life. Then all of a sudden I look back and wish I hadn’t been in such a hurry and had enjoyed my younger years – and especially my family years. I think I was always looking past the mark. Now I look back and wish I had not been in such a hurry to get somewhere that I left behind so many precious times with my children – especially my boys. I fret that I didn’t teach them the principles they need to succeed in life, how to work – and enjoy the pleasure of a job well done. I worry that I set a mixed example for them. They saw the older Dad who had worked so hard for so long that he neglected the more important things in life like, for example, temple attendance.
   The lessons I see from “A Dream Without Works is Dead” is that dreams are essential in our lives – even

multiple dreams. But dreaming is just the blueprint, if you will, of getting something done. We have to go out and do the work – make it happen and work toward those dreams. Work as hard as possible to make them come true and then things will work out – but maybe not exactly how we thought they would.
   But we can’t just dream and think it will just happen. We reap what we sow.
   If we have the faith to make it happen, then work to make it happen, good things will happen – but not necessarily exactly what we might have expected. And this is in conjunction with our spiritual side – because “all things are spiritual” to our Father in Heaven.

Oh, That I Were An Angel -- In My Dreams

   Well, I feel compelled to share an amazing dream I experienced early this morning! (June 11, 2016.)

   Nancy has been on my case the last couple of weeks – or so – because I’ve been watching a lot of Kung-Fu type movies and war movies, including 13 hours. So you might expect that this amazing dream would be so related. But, nope, pretty much just the opposite.

   I wish I could convey the whole feeling of the dream, but it was inspirational and peaceful.

   I was with a man and his wife and their daughter (it felt like they were my relatives), but I didn’t recognize them. Because I can’t remember the exact details, I’ll need to do some dream interpretation here: I was trying to explain to them how we build our spiritual lives step by step, principle by principle. Some have their spiritual lives built higher than others, but we need to be building our spiritual edifice as a family. I was talking to them about how we gain a testimony about a certain principle and how that then becomes part of our foundation and edifice, and we build upon that.

Angel Moroni atop Star Valley LDS Temple
 (Jerel Olson Photography)

   Then we look down and see how much we have built and say how could I have built so much, and I replied that we didn’t do it ourselves. God has done most of the hard labor (the Atonement). He has seen our efforts and has glorified our efforts and has helped us build – more than we could ever do ourselves. His Grace is like that.

For me, the most profound feeling was that I was singing all of this and praising our Father in Heaven as I taught them. The dream really was a powerful musical.

In fact, it was like Moroni and his trumpet sounding to the whole world the Everlasting

Salt Lake Valley looking south from above the State Capital.

Gospel, but instead I was singing. I have never song as strongly and as powerfully as in that dream as I taught them.

    I could feel that the couple in the dream understood that they needed to work together as a family to build their Eternal Family – step by step.

   Then it was as if I was taking them on an airplane ride above the Salt Lake

Valley, but there was nothing obscuring our view straight down as we saw the beautiful Salt Lake Valley all green and vibrant – as if after a late-spring rain. Then I’m thinking that maybe we were actually flying (as in angels) because of the unobstructed panoramic view. And the feeling was glorious and spiritual. There was no fear that we were going to crash, like in most of my dreams.

   Then Nancy woke me up! But instead of being mad about being awakened during such an amazing dream, I was happy that I had had such a marvelous experience – and feeling the Marvelous Work and Wonder!

"Do Unto Others, Joplin Second Ward and Community of Christ

Joplin Stake Public Affairs Council
Press Release Nov. 21, 2012
Compiled by W. Lee Hunt

: Bishop Dave Richins of the Joplin Second Ward admires one of the two paintings hanging in the Joplin Stake Center that were purchased through a donation from the Community of Christ congregation in Joplin, MO.

   “Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you,

do ye even so to them.” (Matt 7: 12)

   Just hours after the F5 tornado had laid waste to a swath of Joplin, Missouri, the pastor of the Joplin Community of Christ, Steve Hicks, arrived at the home of friend and co-worker Dave Richins, Bishop of the Joplin 2^nd Ward of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

   Pastor Hicks, knowing that Bishop Richins’ church and congregation were in the tornado’s direct path, was there to offer his assistance. Fortunately, members of the Richins family were all safe.

   Soon, Pastor Hicks would find a way to be of assistance to Bishop Richins and the bishop’s congregation.

   Bishop Richins later wrote about that night: “At 5:34 p.m., an unusually large and powerful F5 tornado touched down in the southwest end of the ward (congregation’s) boundary and headed in an east-northeast direction, causing a mile-wide and 6 mile-long gash across the entire length of our ward (congregation).”

  He was driving home with his family from the Joplin High School graduation ceremony, held at a college in northeast Joplin, as they watched the dark mixture of black, gray and green clouds rolling toward the center of town from the southwest.

   “Within minutes of arriving home, the family heard the distant ‘freight train sound’ that could be heard to the west. Sister Richins and the Richins children took cover in an interior bathroom with grandparents George and Karen Richins of Tulsa, Oklahoma.  I stood at the sliding glass door, looking west as massive storm clouds moved from my left to right. I could see debris high in the sky. Suddenly a large tree from our neighbors’ yard crashed onto the deck and against the sliding-glass door, completely blocking my view. Though the sliding-glass door held, I remember thinking, ‘This is going to be a busy night.’

   “I knew I would need to make a quick assessment of which homes in the ward (congregation) might have received damage. Within fifteen minutes, as I walked three blocks and approached 26th Street on Wisconsin Avenue, I learned the true magnitude of the storm’s damage.”

    “Ward (congregation) members responded with a strength and vigor that could have only come from Heaven. Although 52 homes of ward members sustained damage and 28 were destroyed, the brothers and sisters of the Joplin Second Ward forgot their own problems to rescue those who had greater needs.

   “We met at Sam’s Club parking lot every Saturday from May 28th through September and spent our Saturday mornings serving our fellowmen. As we served members, crews often branched out to the neighbors of those members and helped clean up their yards or assist in whatever way needed. We served with other organizations and with members of other church organizations and developed a real kinship with our brothers and sisters of differing faiths. It was wonderful to see the faith, courage and willingness to serve from so many in our community.”

Pastor Hick’s special offer

   In the days following the tornado, Pastor Hicks offered the use of the Community of Christ Church to Bishop Richins’ congregation, the Joplin Second Ward. Soon after, the Joplin Stake Presidency began a review of the offer – along with several others, including one to share the Neosho Ward building 19 miles to the southeast.

   It would take 16 months before the Joplin Missouri Stake Center (multi-congregational building) would be rebuilt.

   Bishop Richins believed the extra expense of traveling to Neosho or other out-of-town locations would have surely been a financial burden to many congregation members, and that being able to meet in Joplin would also help members remain united as a rescue unit to “stay in the fray and assist each other and their neighbors.”

   Upon the counsel of Joplin Stake President Creed Jones, who had previously toured the Community of Christ building, Bishop Richins and President Terrance Thedell of the LDS Church’s Physical Facilities Department and Stake President of the Springfield Stake, met with Pastors Hicks and John Williams of the Community of Christ to discuss the logistics of having the Joplin Second Ward meet in the Community of Christ building at 1212 North Goetz Boulevard in Joplin.

   “The spirit of cooperation and love filled the meeting,” Bishop Richins later wrote in the ward’s (congregation’s) history. “Pastors Hicks and Williams made it clear that they would do anything in their power to accommodate the Joplin Second Ward.”

   On June 12, 2011, Pres. Jones led an open discussion with the congregation and called for a vote of all members. The vote was unanimous, and the Joplin Second Ward began meeting in the Community of Christ Church at 1 p.m. on June 19, 2011.

   The Community of Christ also welcomed the LDS congregation to hold its usual meetings on Wednesday night so families did not have to travel to Carthage or Neosho for children and youth activities, including Cub Scouts and Scouts.

    Members of the LDS congregation were invited to the Community of Christ’s potluck luncheon on Sunday, Nov. 11, 2011, at noon, which was well attended by both congregations. The LDS congregation was also invited to the Community of Christ’s “Hanging of the Greens” ceremony, which kicks off the Christmas Season, on Nov. 30.

    “Members of the Community of Christ have been wonderful hosts and neighbors, Bishop Richins wrote in the 2011 Joplin Second Ward History. “Ward members found the Community of Christ congregation to be very hospitable and accommodating.”

Showing Their Thanks

Allison Tillman of the Joplin Second

 Ward helps paint at the Community

 of Christ church in Joplin, MO.,

 Oct. 13, 2012.

   After several months of sharing the Community of Christ meetinghouse, members of the Joplin 2^nd Ward considered ways to show their appreciation.

   On Saturday, Oct. 13, just a day before moving into the completed Joplin LDS Stake Center, 35 members of the Joplin Second Ward congregation donned their work clothes and helped paint the front lobby, hallways, several classrooms and the multipurpose room of the Community of Christ meetinghouse. They worked side-by-side with members of the Community of Christ congregation from 8 in the morning until 1 in the afternoon.

     Several weeks earlier, the Community of Christ had presented Bishop Richins a donation of more than $1,100 and was told to use the gift to help beautify their new building.

Bishop David Richins

accepts a donation

Aug. 5, 2012, from

Pastor Patsy Lay and

her counselor John

Williams for

furbishing the new

Joplin Stake Center.

   Two large paintings were purchased with the donation. They now hang in the east entrance area of the new Joplin Stake Center at 2107 Indiana Ave., Joplin, Missouri, 64804.

   “We’re continuing to reach out and serve them as they have served us,” Bishop Richins said, including several socials between the two congregations.

   “We had a very well-attended potluck dinner with the Community of Christ congregation on Nov. 16 at our new building,” he said. The evening included a performance by the Primary children (age 3-11) and a free-flowing tour of the facility, including a special viewing of the artwork purchased through their donation.

Joplin Stake President Creed Jones, left,

and missionaries from the LDS Church

help paint around the baptism font

in the Community of Christ

Sanctuary on Nov. 17, 2012.

   The following day, Nov. 17, about 20 members of the Joplin Second Ward congregation returned with brushes in hand and helped paint the sanctuary of the Community of Christ meetinghouse – this time donating all the paint needed.

   “With all the help from the two congregations, the whole project took only a couple of hours,” Bishop Richins said.

   On Sunday, Nov. 26, the Joplin Second Ward congregation has been invited to the Community of Christ congregation’s “Hanging of the Greens” Christmas celebration at 6 p.m..

   “We’ve accepted the assignment to provide three special musical numbers,” Bishop Richins said, “plus four of our members have been invited to read stories about Christmas.

Joel Wilstead of the Joplin First Ward

and his sons help paint on Nov. 17, 2012,

at the Community of Christ building

in Joplin, Missouri.

   “Then, we have invited the Community of Christ congregation back to our building for the LDS Church’s First Presidency Christmas Devotional, which includes the Mormon Tabernacle Choir performing. And we’re planning to invite our Community of Christ brothers and sisters to many more activities at the Joplin Stake Center.

   “We enjoy working with our Community of Christ brothers and sisters,” Bishop Richins said. “Through this work and association, both congregations have learned to love and understand each other as we all try to live Jesus Christ’s example of serving our fellow men and being our brother’s keeper.”

 

 

 

 

A Community of Christ member, left, alongside Joplin Second

Ward members Jakob Jasperson and Karen White, on ladder,

help paint the Community of Christ Sanctuary

on Nov. 17, 2012, in Joplin, Missouri.

 

Mark Shank (one of Pastor Patsy Lay’s counselors
at the Community of Christ), left, Carolyn Richins
 and Di Hinds of the Joplin Second Ward pause
during their painting project Oct. 13, 2012.

Bishop David Richins, left, Beryl Nickolaisen

 and Tawny Kemp at the dual-church

project on Oct. 13, 2012.

 

Work party consisting of 28 Joplin Second Ward

members and nine Community of Christ members

after their project Oct. 13, 2012, the day before

the Joplin Second Ward moved into

the new Joplin Stake Center.

 

Work party consisting of Joplin Second Ward members

and Community of Christ members work together

in painting the Community of Christ Sanctuary Nov. 17, 2012.

Work party consisting of Joplin Second Ward members

and Community of Christ members work together

in painting the Community of Christ Sanctuary Nov. 17, 2012.

 

Recovered Wedding Memories

I was going through a box in my storage closet for missionary pictures and find these pictures from our wedding, April 9, 1976! The originals weren't very good but, now with new technology, I was able to improve them a little.
See if you recognize anyone! Here are some hints:
Chris Smith, Anne Isabel, Don Roundy, Orin Bawden, Merrill Hunt, Stacy Hunt, Rhonda Hunt, Lorraine Hunt, Rhea Westwood, Bruce Westwood, JoAnn Westwood, Jim Westwood, Rendall Hunt, Jay Westwood, Trena Hunt (Trena didn't even realize it was her after picking out a bunch of the other people), Kathy Westwood and Phil Sarborough. Troyleen was pregant at the time and was seated at the host desk, greeting everyone.
Of course, the biggest disappointment is we don't have any pictures of my dad there, which created a lot of regret and conflict!!!



Pretty Bride!
Yes, that's me without a beard and balancing
on that

I'm wondering what she's telling me?
Maybe it's about her missing gravy bowl!

Wedding reception held at the Granger 4th Wardhouse
in West Valley, Utah.

Cutting the cake! Look at them cooperate!

Mothers Rhea and Lorraine.

What a good-looking group of guys!
Left to right, startint in back: Rendall Hunt, Jay Westwood,
Bruce Westwood, Phil Scarbrough, Merrill Hunt, Lee,
Jim Westwood, Orin Bawden, and Don Roundy.

Fun picture of family members and family members to be!
Left to right, starting in back, Jim, JoAnn, Nancy,
Lee, Merrill, Lorraine, Rhea, Bruce, Trena Hunt, Kathy
Westwood (Jim and Kathy got married just months before
us), Stacy and Rhonda Hunt, Anne Isabel (who married
Chris Smith's brother, and Chris, of course, married Bruce. 

I wonder if Nancy's again asking about her gravy bowl!

OK, all eyes on the photographer!

Sweet Little Lena Bena

Our second daughter, Lena Marie, always seemed to have a smile and a twinkle in her eye. She was the Little Mother who took take of her little brothers even though was was a baby herself.