An Adventurous Cousin and a Flooded Stockyard (Second of Eight Survival Stories)

A cat is said to have nine lives. The following recounts my second close call – a providential rescue from a watery danger.

First, some background details!

My mom, Lorraine Hunt, in front
of older sister, Idaho Eastwood.

My mom’s only sister, Idella, lived in Spokane, Washington, with her husband, Raio, and children when we were kids, and we traveled from our Salt Lake Valley to visit them a couple of times.

The oldest son, Dennis, is about two years older than Merrill. Next was Clinton, who is a year older than me but about a year younger than Merrill. Next is Barbara, who is my age – at least we were in the same grade at school. Idella and Raio had two younger children, Sharon and David, but I didn’t get to know them that well.

Raio was a great cook! I especially loved his pancakes. His were always the best. He was a very low-key guy, but Idella was a lot more gruff and strict. Looking back on the relationship between her and mom, I would say Idella was the typical older sister – she was the one in control.

Barbara Eastwood, back left, and
my sisters Troyleen and Trena during
1964-65 school year.

The Eastwoods also came and visited us in Utah many times, partly – I’m sure – as part of their visit with Grandma and Grandpa Butt and all the rest of the family in the valley. There were two Christmases we celebrated with the Eastwoods staying with us in our Granger home. Those were fun times, two families sleeping everywhere in the house, and even Grandpa and Grandma Butt stayed over Christmas Eve one of those times.
Us kids had a hard time getting to sleep and then staying asleep past about three or four in the morning. I remember our parents even locked us in our bedrooms to try and get some sleep themselves. They even gave Merrill and I sleeping pills to "help us sleep." We still got up real early but then got sick and had to go back to bed after opening presents. 

The excitement was crazy – all of us kids waiting to see what Santa had brought us.

Barbara Eastwood's high school
graduation picture, 1968.

Several years later, Barbara spent the 1964-65 school year with our family and also attended Westlake Jr. High. I actually had two cousins at the new junior high – Barbara Eastwood and LeeAnn Lavender, who had recently moved into our Granger area. I regret that I never hung out with either of them at school. I was, at the time, trying to see what I could become and too much into myself and basketball. They were both at a new school and didn’t know anyone, but I also had spent the last two years at different junior highs and only knew the few kids who had been bused to Kearns and then Manga with me -- plus the whose who had earlier attended Monroe Elementary.   

Oops, sorry I got off on a tangent there! Back to our two trips to Spokane.

Both were memorable – but mostly because of the pain and fright involved.

Barbara, Clinton (smiling in back) and
cut-up Lee holding my Easter basket.

Typical old barbed-wire fence.

The first trip was when I was about five years old. The pictures I’ve found of that trip shows us celebrating Easter with the Eastwoods –

must have been Easter vacation. All of us cousins were having a great time --- maybe even racing here and there in an Easter egg hunt. But then I spoiled all the fun when I ran right into a barbed-wire fence. I ended up with gashes in my forehead and side of my head. Even the photo of Barbara, Clinton and I with our Easter cake and baskets shows me none too happy.

Our next trip up there was a few years later, probably when I was nine or 10 years old. I remember Clinton talked Merrill and I into helping him sell donuts door to door. He figured people would be more likely to buy from this little cute boy (me) than they had been willing to buy from him. So we took the job. I did the talking and Merrill was by my side for moral support. We actually did pretty well. I think he was right about my "sales ability."

Later he wanted to take us out to a secret place. At least I don’t remember him telling me where the three of us were going. He probably told Merrill, or maybe I just tagged along. I did that a lot.

A typical cattle stockyard that has been flooded.
(Photo by Getty Images)

When we got to the spot, I became very leery. There before us was a flooded abandoned stockyard or cattle corrals. He wanted to show us how we could get right out into the middle of the lake by making our way down the white wood corral fence. I wasn’t too excited about the idea.

First of all, I'm leery about big bodies of water – not much more than a tubful for me. Secondly, I felt it was dangerous because I at the time didn’t know how to swim. Of course, Merrill and Clinton knew how to swim – and they probably were more adventurous than me.

 I’m not sure, but Clinton may have called me a little chicken more than once.

So off we went, making our way down the fence, foot by foot, with me grasping tightly to the upper wood fence planks. The hardest part was getting around the wooden posts between sections. We eventually got what seemed like out in the middle of everything and I

Clinton Eastwood for his
high school picture.

was more than ready to head back. However, Clinton noticed a “raft” floating near the fence that we were standing on. He got Merrill to reach out with his one leg and drag it up next to the fence. Then Merrill tested the “raft.” He was too big for it, so Clinton got the brilliant idea of having me take the “raft” for a spin. The “raft” really wasn’t much more than a wood ballet or maybe a wood blank. Clinton kept urging me to get on, and Merrill seemed curious to see if the “raft” would hold me. Then Merrill told me he would save me, or something like that, if I fell in. Oh, that was a big comfort. Well, I finally got up next to the “raft” and stood halfway onto it when it immediately started to sink and tip on its side.

I was stunned. All I could think of was me going down under and never coming back up.

Suddenly Merrill grabbed me and pulled me back onto the fence. I think Clinton actually said something about how I just needed to get onto the middle of the “raft” and then I would be fine. But before long, Merrill started heading back with me gingerly making my way down the fence behind him.

A car submerged in a lake.

I was so happy to get back on firm ground, which is probably why I don’t remember a thing about the rest of the trip.

One of my biggest phobias is driving a car into a lake or river. I can’t count the number of dreams in which I have found myself gasping for air and fighting to get out of the water.

Thinking back about this “adventure,” what if Merrill hadn’t grabbed me and I had gone under? Was Merrill assigned to be my guardian angel? The truth is, he was my guardian angel and protector all of my childhood. But he also was my tormentor – at times. 

Like a Cat With Nine Lives -- and God's Providence (First of Eight Survival Stories)

The open-pit copper mine up Bingham Canyon started operations in 1906.

When I look back at my life experiences, I seem to remember more vividly the more traumatic ones.

Why that is, I’m not sure.

Is it normal? I don’t know, but those memories illustrate God’s providence in my life.

Copperton Park in the tree-lined town.

Grandpa Butt and
little Lee Hunt

In fact, there have been seven episodes that were especially frightening, painful and memorable, and which could have resulted in the end of my sojourn here on earth. The earliest one occurred at my grandparents’ home up in Copperton, Utah, when I was between five and seven years old.

In my pre-teen years, I especially loved going to see Grandpa and Grandma Butt at their home in the mouth of Bingham Canyon. Grandpa was a train engineer at that time for Kennecott Copper Mine. He had worked at the mine all his adult life, eventually becoming one of the numerous conductors of  the ore trains at the mine. That’s back when the mine used trains instead of the giant trucks that are used today.

Bingham Canyon ore train Nov. 1942.
Photographer: Andreas Feiningerhttp://www.loc.gov/pictures/
item/owi2001038400/PP/ 

Grandma was a housewife, typical for those years. I remember on many of my weekend visits seeing her making doll lamps in her studio and kitchen, which she sold to a couple of outlets in Salt Lake City.

Leona Cooley Butt in front of her
home in Copperton.

During these prized visits I would often hang around grandpa as he played solitary, which he taught me how to play. Sometimes when there were four willing players, we would play canasta. I really enjoyed the game, though I can’t remember the rules now. Also, I would spend a lot of hours building towers out of the small rectangular blocks that grandpa made for the grandchildren to play with on their visits. I remember I could get mine at least two-feet tall from the circular base of about a foot and a half.

One of Grandma Butt's doll lamps.

One of the highlights in my early school years was grandpa teaching me some math skills. Eventually I could add short columns of numbers in my head. He was the one who helped me get proficient in multiplication and especially division.

On many of my visits, I would watch Vivian, David and Clifford play basketball in the driveway shared by my grandparents and the neighbors next door. The garage was also shared, with a one car garage on each half of the building and a basketball backboard and hoop fixed at the upper center of the garage building.

All three Butt boys were stars on the Bingham High School basketball team.

Ray, Vivian and Clifford Butt at
their ancestral home in Copperton.

I was too little to join the games, so I was mostly content to watch and learn. When they weren’t around, I would take out one of the old basketballs and dribble and dribble and dribble. For quite a while, I couldn’t throw the ball high enough to even reach the basketball hoop.

David Butt in his
Bingham High School
basketball uniform.

When my three uncles weren’t playing basketball in the driveway, they usually were off with their friends somewhere else.

But there was this one time when Clifford, who was about seven years older than me, was home and actually with me – or technically I was with him – as he conducted an aviation experiment on the old rotating clothesline in the backyard. However, the experiment turned out to be an introduction to the laws of centrifugal force and gravity.

At first, I was happy just being with Clifford as he worked on his experiment, tying a shallow cardboard box with four small ropes to two adjacent clotheslines that fanned from the 4-inch round center metal post. I don’t remember the conversation, but I’m sure he asked if I wanted to take a ride on the merry-go-round or something like that. Once this little squirt was seated inside the shallow box and holding on to the sides of the box, Clifford started rotating the clothesline.

Grandma's clothesline had a 4" center pole with several wood
two-by-four branches at right angle from center pole with
metal clothesline wires wrapping around the wood branches. 

Wow! This is fun! Can we go faster?

Clifford started to increase the velocity of the spin – faster and faster I spun around the backyard. I’m sure I was getting dizzy – but then it happened: the small ropes ripped through the cardboard and I flew out of the box at an almost parallel level from the clothesline. I crashed into the metal tin garbage cans next to the back of the house. If I had landed just two feet to the right, I would have hit the concrete steps leading into my grandparents’ home. If I had landed two feet to the left, I may have hit the concrete foundation.

I’m sure I made the garbage cans clang, but more likely it was my screaming and wailing that brought grandma running out the back door. The next thing I remember was lying on the couch in the front room as grandma chewed Clifford out for – well, let’s just say his “failed experiment.”

I didn’t break any bones, but my back was in a lot of pain. My near-death flight into orbit wasn’t too long before the first time I had hurt my back.

I had been playing with Merrill on some bales of straw at our home on Redwood Road in West Jordan when I jumped from the height of two bales of straw and landed on my butt on the straw-covered ground. That’s when I felt a shock of pain rip up through by back. I wailed and screamed and Mom and Dad came running. Merrill, I’m sure, was just puzzled. Why did I get hurt in such a small fall? Well, first of all, the small layer of straw covered a layer of bricks, which meant I landed basically on a bunch of bricks.

By Greg Olsen
https://gregolsen.com/blog

But when Mom and Dad later took me to the doctors and X-rays were taken, the doctor said my backbones looked thin or not complete. He said to keep an eye on the situation and hopefully the bones would fill out and get thicker.

Looking back at the numerous times when I had similar falls and back pain, I wonder if that first X-ray actually showed the presence of the Osteogenesis Imperfecta that we never realized I have until after Evie Wentz was born almost a half-century later.

But lucky for me that my first flight into orbit wasn’t my last flight. I must have had a guardian angel guiding me into those garbage cans and not the concreate steps in the backyard of my grandparents’ home in beautiful tree-lined Copperton, Utah.    

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.

Some Highlights in the Young Life of An Old Man

I found this document a few nights ago in things I think my Mother had saved for me that I obviously wrote during the summer of 1968. I’m not sure if it was a letter or what – maybe just a sort of personal history. But it does cover some highlights that I had planned to write about – so I’m adding this as a post, which now includes additonal related memories and comments about the events inside parentheses.

Vicki Hunt (second from left in front) Lee Hunt and Merrill
Hunt (left of woman holding baby) in "All in Favor."

ALL IN FAVOR OF A PLAY
I had a lead part in the stake play, "Up with Balloons” as the popcorn man; and a lead part as Ralph Smith in the North Jordan Third Ward play “All In Favor,” both these plays I sang in. I was a lumber worker in the North Jordan Ward play, “No Time for Skirts.”
At Westlake Jr. High, I took drama instead of mixed chorus because I needed to take a geometry class, which was only available during the same period as mixed chorus. (I was pretty upset because I still hadn’t had a chance to be in a choir with girls. Men’s Chorus in 7th and 8th Grade and even in 10th Grade.) Our Westlake drama class put on two school plays.

W. Lee Hunt (kneeling) in mystery "Drop Dead."

I played the part of a wealthy son in one of the plays, which was called “Drop Dead.”

SCOUTER
I started in Cub Scouts just in time to be a Lion Cub and then went on into the Scout program. I got as far as a Star before I moved into Explorers. (I did, however, receive my Duty to God award.)
I attended two Explorer Conferences at BYU, one in 1965 and the other in 1967.
(I remember one of the highlights was hearing the LDS astronaut Jon L. Lind, who at the time had not made it to space. “For first Mormon astronaut Don Lind, getting to space took almost two decades of grueling training and patience.  As a small boy, Lind and his sisters loved to climb trees in his neighborhood in Midvale, Utah, shaking the branches and pretending they were in a space craft hurtling through the universe.  At that time, space travel was a feat only dreamed up in comic books and science fiction.  It

Back: Ralph Sharp, Bruce Sharp, Larry Bunkall,
Front: Steve Crump and W. Lee Hunt at Explorer
Conference at BYU 1967.

wasn’t until over 20 years later that the first men entered space in 1961.  After hearing the news, Lind—then a Navy pilot and Doctor of physics—knew he had found his calling.
Lind was accepted into NASA’s space program in 1966 where he underwent rigorous physical and mental training courses.  “Our training involved night-shifts at the local hospital emergency room to learn what to do if we had to perform emergency surgery in space,” Lind said.  “We learned survival skills in the Panamanian jungle, which we’d need if we landed far off course.  We also were taught graduate-level geology courses.”
Despite having completed his training, Lind had to wait another 19 years before entering space—the longest waiting time for any American in spaceflight history.  But Lind kept himself more than busy.  He continued working on NASA missions, serving as the director of lunar operations on Apollo 11 when man first walked on the moon.

Astronaut Don Lind spoke
at 1967 BYU conference.

Stan Bawden (patch over eye), Lester Mackay (left of Stan)
Warren Hunt (Explorer hat on), Steve and Danny Peterson
(in front of Warren), Bruce Sharp (bottom left) and
Dennis Paxton (bottom right).

Air Force planes inside hangar viewed from catwalk.

Lind’s own spaceflight finally came in 1985 when he boarded the Challenger for an eight-day journey to study the Aurora Australis. Many miracles surrounded Lind’s exploration into space, the largest being simply his safe return home.  Just nine months after his mission, the Challenger exploded 73 seconds after liftoff due to faulty O-rings, killing the seven crew members on board. Lind believes that a priesthood blessing he received before his flight protected
him and his crew from a similar fate as they hurtled through the earth’s incinerating atmosphere aboard that very space shuttle.  Full of faith and gratitude for the Lord’s protection, Lind said, “We weren’t more righteous or more deserving of the Lord’s help—those on the Challenger were good people—but it had been promised us.” From Mormons Who Pioneered the Space Program, by Danielle Beckstrom, Famous Mormons, http://www.ldsliving.com/Mormons-Who-Pioneered-the-Space-Program/s/77212)
As secretary and historian of our Ward Explorers,

U.S. Air Force rocket at Hill Air Force Base, 1964.

I corresponded with Hill Air Force Base and twice arranged for our Explorers to stay overnight in the airmen barracks during the Christmas holidays. We toured the base and watched some training-type films in the barracks. (Remember, this was during the Cold War, so it was a big deal for us to get on the base and stay overnight. I took a lot of pictures and wondered if I would be in trouble for taking them. I think some of the films we watched were related to Cold War issues.)

Lena Newbold,
4th Grade at
Monroe Elementary.

MY FIRST
Probably my earliest accomplishment was winning a book in third grade for being the first in my class to finish all the sets in the back of my arithmetic book. Toward the end of the school year, a race developed between Lena Newbold, representing the girls, and myself, representing the boys. We had to do each set without making a single error or we would have to do that set over again. (I was proud that I finished them all before school was out for the summer – and especially excited that the competition came down to me and Lena, one of the girls from my ward who at the time lived on 4300 West just down the street from us and who I liked –  though just from a distance. Besides, she was a couple of inches taller than me!)

Lee, Troy, Merrill, Warren, Rendall,
Trena at Smith Palmyra home, 1966.

MISSION POSSIBLE
While back in Pennsylvania in the summer of 1966, Merrill and I helped two missionaries by going visiting and helping with discussions. I went tracking with them, and Merrill baptized a man into the church. (The summer back in Pennsylvania was a major event in all of our lives, but I’ll write about that in another post.)

A LIFE OF SPORTS
Though I was old enough to play Little League baseball, I was still young enough to play in the Minor League. I chose the Minor League, or I should say it choose me (because I didn’t have a lot of experience and because I was small for my age. I played catch, mainly because I wasn’t strong enough to throw the ball very far, too slow in the outfield and because with all the equipment on, I wasn’t afraid to catch the ball behind the batters. I ended up making the All-Star team, but I didn’t get to play in the game because I went to California with Grandma Butt and family.
In church athletics, our basketball and softball teams went to Region Tournament in 1964 (I was 14 and Merrill was the star at 16). We won the Sportsmanship Award in softball. In basketball that year, we won every game up to the last two in Region when they (people in charge) decided Russell Jones, who was almost our whole team, was too old.

Lee Hunt was named Most Physically Fit
of all the students in Coach Newton
Gym classes at Westlake Jr. High, 1965.

At Westlake Jr. High, I made the basketball team and played a total of one minute and 30 seconds during two games and made one of two foul shots for a total of one point in my school basketball career. (Part of the basketball story is connected to the basketball coach, who was my gym teacher. He saw me play a lot, even commented once that I looked like Jerry West – NBA All-Star for Los Angeles Lakers – as I dribbled down the court in and out around the other players. The truth is I became pretty adapt at dribbling and avoiding trips because I didn’t want to fall and get hurt. But the coachfelt I was just too short and not good enough for the team. I pressed him – especially after I was named “The Most Physically Fit” in all his gym classes because I was able to do more pushups, sit-ups and running (overall) than any of the other kids in his gym classes. He posted our pictures on the bulletin board for everyone to see. He finally relented and let me be on the team. Me and Neal Hendrickson were the grants on the team!
Even though I didn’t get in Mixed Chorus as a ninth-grader, that school year was a special time for me. I relished the warmups before the home games. I could jump quite high for as short as I was, 5’ 4 ½”. I could almost tough the rim and could easily reach the netting. A lot of times when doing layups in the warmups, I would dribble the ball toward the basket and, without traveling, take the ball around my back from my left hand to my right hand and make the layup. I have no idea if anyone noticed, but I was stoked about it. I was always trying to impress the girls – one way or another.

Danny Carroll, top left, Bryant Hansen, top 2nd from right,
W. Lee Hunt, top right, Larry Bunkall, bottom left, Kay
Blackwell were managers for Granger football team, 1967-68.

As a sophomore at Granger High, I was the head manager for both the sophomore basketball and football teams. I was a manager for the Varsity football team and a junior, and was the Head Manager for the Varsity football team as a senior, the first year that our school team went to State.
(Though I didn’t make the school basketball teams at Granger, I had a lot of fun playing church ball – when I wasn’t recuperating for this or that injury. My senior year of church basketball was the best. My girlfriend at the time came to some of my games, and I played my heart out. In fact, that was the year I was named to the stake’s All-Star basketball team and played the game against the best youth players in the stake.)

THE LITTLEST BASS
(In seventh grade at Kearns Jr. High, I found that my voice had changed dramatically after signing up for Boys Chorus. Though I could still sing really high, I now could sing really low – in fact the lowest of any in the chorus.) I sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” in a quartet during an assembly. The next year, (we had to bus to Brockbank Jr. High in Magna and, instead of being in a mixed chorus at Kearns Jr., I was again in Boys Chorus. During the one year there, my musical “prowess” expanded as) I sang my first solo in a school assembly, singing “A Fella Needs A Girl." That year I also sang "There's Nothin’ Like A Dame" in a double quartet with all ninth graders during a girls-only assembly.

The 1967-68 Granger High School Madrigals.

As a ninth-grader at the brand-new Westlake Jr. High, I made the Mixed Chorus, but I had to take an advanced class in Geometry, which was at the same hour as Mixed Chorus.
As a sophomore at Granger High, I was again in the Boys Chorus, but Norman Wendal made me the class secretary. As a junior I made history as being the first, and probably the last, male secretary of Junior Choir. We, the officers worked together to plan all the activities.
My senior year was full of joyful singing as I made both Concert Choir and Madrigals, and for the tops in my singing years I also made the All-State Chorus.

Lee Hunt and fellow Madrigal Vickie
Warburton after a performance.

A few places where we performed included: KBYU television, Madrigals; Channel 7 television, Concert Choir; BYU formal dance, Madrigals; PTA at Harman’s Cafe, Madrigals; Downtown Mall and Cottonwood Mall, Concert Choir. Madrigals and Concert Choir performed at many wards, including our final one at Principal Moroni Jensen’s ward; Primary Hospital and University of Utah Hospital, Concert Choir; Seminary Graduation, Madrigals; and School Graduation, Concert Choir; Skyline High School along with Skyline of Utah and Skyline of Idaho; state Capital and City Hall, Concert Choir.
(My senior year was a whirlwind: Madrigals, Concert Choir, sports editor, football manager, ALM president, Lancer Roundtable, church basketball and a steady girlfriend. I don’t think I could have had a busier or more fun time! Every one of the Madrigals became friends: Bruce Targgart, Claudia Albrechtsen, Robyn Barker, Terri Rogers, Mary Steffensen, Norbert Bench, Rick Schow, Duane Lambert, Garth Hardy, Carol Linton, Laurel Swensen, Cheryl Nickelson, Bryant Hanen and Vickie Warburton. Those were really good times. The best of my singing days – for sure!

Lee, wearing his Granger letterman's
sweater, poses with Vickie in 1968.

One of the highlights and the lowlight of my senior year was when the Madrigals went to a late night-early morning bowling party on a Friday night. I was so tired when I got home that I quickly asleep. But not more than an hour later, Dad woke me up and told me I had to get up and get the work done in the yard. Work on a Saturday was a ritual around our house. Unfortunately, I fell back asleep, and a little bit later he woke me up again and told me just because I was out partying all night, I still needed to get up and get the work done! I couldn’t believe he was pushing me that way. However, I made the mistake of falling asleep again. When he came in the 3rd time, he warned me that if I wasn’t up and out working by the time he got back (from somewhere), I wouldn’t be going to that dance in the evening. I really thought that was ridiculous – and I turned over and went to sleep again.

Warren M. Hunt in 1963.

Remember, it wasn’t too long before this that he stopped using a belt on Merrill and I and stopped spanking us. Of course, Merrill was long gone now – he married Vicki Kershaw in December of 1966, just out of high school. After he stopped using the belt and spanking, he resorted to threats – and “Do You See My Eyes Turning Green?” That was a warning that Hell was about to break loose.
Well, I was a slow learner. Besides, I never thought he would follow through on the threat. Well, when he got home and I still wasn’t out working, Hell broke loose – and he told me that no matter what I did the rest of the day, I wouldn’t be going to that Prom.
I was shocked, angry, and also upset with myself that I didn’t get up! Having to call Vickie and tell her I couldn’t go with her to the Girls Pref was terrible. She was really upset, too. I’m sure she had spent a lot on getting ready. What a blow between the eyes!
That was the only time I was ever asked out to a Girls Pref – and I didn’t get to go!
Aside from that ordeal, I was on top of the world that whole year! By the time graduation rolled around, things were looking bright – I was going to BYU as a football manager, I was following my dream of journalism and newspaper writing, I was going to go on a mission, and I was confident that I had found my soulmate. But some things do change!)

W. Lee Hunt in Cap and Gown with Honor Society Sash
during Graduation Ceremony at Granger High, 1968.

WHAT A DAY – GRADUATION
I graduated from Granger High School on June 4, 1968, and graduated from the Granger Seminary in 1967 after my third year of seminary, and again in 1968 after completing my fourth year. I also graduated from Primary in 1962.

WHAT AN HONOR!
I received a certificate of achievement in typewriting at Westlake Jr. High for doing more than 40 words per minute in five-minute trials three times. (Taking that type class was a major smart move on my part. Everything report in high school and college was easier because I was a good typist. Then I ended up in journalism and as a copy editor, which means I’ve been typing almost all of my life. Of course, at the time, I took the class partly because of all the cute girls in the class!)
Near the end of my Junior year, I was nominated by my history teacher, Mr. Carl Patterrsen, who was a state legislator at the time, to be a Granger delegate to Utah Boys State. (However, another classmate basically nominated himself, and American Legion selected him along with several others to attend. I was disappointed, but I was way too busy my senior year to really think much about it.)
As a Junior at Granger High, I became a member of the National Honor Society and graduated as a member.

Amazing group of leaders: two Winders and a Kimball.
Coach Paxton was our ALM counselor and Merrill's coach.

Toward the end of my Junior year at Granger, I decided to join the race for the Presidency of the Associated Lancer Men, which covered all the males at the school. (Because of my friendships that I had made as a football manager, choir member, and newspaper sportswriter, I felt I might have a chance. I felt the field was actually pretty weak that year. I remember Mom and especially Troyleen, my little sister, helping me with some posters. My campaign slogan was: “Hunt for The Best,” which was a play on the Hunts catsup, tomato sauce and paste ads, which had started running around the time I was born – 1950. We used pictures of Hunt tomato products on the posters and even had football jocks do a skit with them adding Hunts Catsup on their burgers and touting the slogan “Hunt for the Best” as they ate their burgers during the pre-election assembly. The skit was a big hit, and I was elected president.
During the following year,) our Lancer Men Association sponsored the Beard Contest, Deer Hunting Contest, and an assembly titled “The Affair of the Lost John Key.” On all these projects, we made money, and the audience liked the assembly. As President of the ALM, I was also a member of the Granger Roundtable. I have received a $300 Scholarship for Outstanding Character and Leadership from Brigham Young University. Also, I was contacted by BYU Football Coach and offered the opportunity to be Freshman Football Manager. I will be leaving to go down to BYU for varsity practices on Aug. 30th and will have my room and board paid for the quarter by the football program. (The football program ended up covering my room and board through the first two quarters, through December.)
I have received four individual awards from the church. I had over 90% attendance at Primary.

CLARK KENT ON THE TRI-COLOR-TIMES
(During my sophomore year at Granger High, my English teacher complimented me on my writing, though she was critical of my spelling and grammar. It was she who suggested I should take my talents to the school paper. I took her advice and Mrs. Maxine Hill, the journalism teacher and adviser for the Tri-Color-Times, brought me into the fold and made me the sports editor and sportswriter, which I suppose was a no-brainer since I was so much into sports, including being manager of the football team.) I became the sports editor for both my Junior and Senior years on the school paper.

W. Lee Hunt interviewing Hollywood Star
Robert Redford at BYU conference in 1967.

During the summer of 1967, before my senior year, I attended the Special Courses and Conferences in Journalism at BYU. I was chosen by Steve Hale of the Deseret News to be the Managing Editor of the paper that we put together called “The ONE TIME WONDER." A girl and I interviewed the Broadway and Hollywood actor Robert Redford, who bought New Haven in Provo Canyon. (He later purchased the resort that was to become Sundance Ski Resort.)
The interview became the lead story on the front page of our one-time conference paper. (I actually hadn’t heard of Redford before the interview, but all the girls were thrilled to even be in the same room with him. He had recently starred in “Barefoot in the Park” in 1967, and would soon take off in Hollywood with “Downhill Racer,” “Butch Cassidy (Paul Newman) and the Sundance Kid (Redford),” and “The Sting,” also co-starring Paul Newman. The funny bit for me that day was the fact that when we entered the room he was seated on a folding chair and never rose during the whole time we were there. Might it have something to do with his short stature, especially compared to the tall young reporter who was going to be among those interviewing him?)
I also attended the 31st and 32nd Annual Utah High School Journalism Conferences, and I received a Certificate of Merit at the Sportswriters Clinic at the University of Utah.

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!

Enjoy Utah!: REVIEW of Hunt Mystery Dinner "Gravestoned"

Enjoy Utah!: REVIEW of Hunt Mystery Dinner "Gravestoned"

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints announced today a new research data system: Early Mormon Missionaries.

  I had fun searching for ancestors who might be listed.

I found three listed:

• My ancestor Samuel Walton Utley, the grandfather of my grandmother, Ethel Sophia Utley Hunt, had a brother, Little John Utley Jr., who served a mission in Alabama.
Tuscaloosa, Alabama
1844–Unknown
Tuscaloosa, Alabama
Start Date: 1844
Mission type: Other
Marital Status: Married
Called From: Alabama
Notes: Per JH: "Little John Utley reported the Boquechetto Branch at a conference held in Tuscaloosa County, Alabama, April 12, 1844.."

• My direct ancestor Harrison Burgess, who is the grandfather of my grandmother, Ethel Sophia Utley Hunt, served a mission in Ohio and other states.
Ohio, other states
April 1836–Unknown
Age Called: 21
Ohio, other states
Departed From Home: 18 April 1836
Marital Status: Married
Priesthood office: Seventy
Priesthood: Seventy
Notes: Mission information: Journal history of the Church 1896-2001 Apr 18, Sept, 1836. Office: Seventies List A-F, pg. 55-56. Family information: FamilySearch

• My ancestor Jane Gadd, who is the great-grandmother of my father, Warren M. Hunt, had a brother named Issac Chapman Gadd. He, along with Jane, and four other siblings, and his mother, Eliza Chapman Gadd survived the Martin Handcart Company ordeal. His twin brother, Daniel, along with his father, Samuel Gadd, died on the trail to Utah. Issac later served a mission to Britain, his homeland.
British
April 1884–Unknown
Age Called: 29
Great Britain
Set Apart: 10 April 1884
Priesthood office: Seventy
Quorum: 71st
Priesthood: 71st Seventies
Called From: Nephi, Juab, Utah, United States
Set apart by: A H Cannon