Sunday, November 25, 2012

Grandma Sarah Tuttle

Grandma Sarah Tuttle as I remember her. She would always give me lemon drops from a little metal music box that she kept on her chest of drawers in the bedroom. Sometimes I remember the scent of her bedroom--it smelled like love. Following are some other pictures of her later years.

Grandma Tuttle feeding the geese at the pond next to her house with Lee and Lon Secrist.

Grandma Tuttle on the bridge between her house and Florence Foy's house.

Sarah Tuttle, Susie Tuttle, Edna Tuttle. Woman on right unknown.

Harvest Time

As you drive east up 400 North in Bountiful and passed Orchard Drive on your way to the temple, look to the north for a glimpse of the old Tuttle Farm. Many Bountiful youth were hired to pick fruit and vegetables through the summer and fall. They were supervised by Joe and Thoral Tuttle, sons of Sarah and Wilford Tuttle. At this time of thanksgiving, take a tour of the farm as it stood in the mid-20th Century. Feel free to comment if you have memories of the Tuttle farm.

"The ground on which most of us live and where our food is grown was cleared of rocks, trees and stumps by millions of hardworking people whose names we've forgotten. . . We owe a debt of gratitude that we can never repay (Daniel C. Peterson. Mormon Times. Nov. 22, 2012)." Luckily, we know the names of some of these dear folk who worked one particular farm.

 Tuttle Barn and horse coral.

 The Tuttle farm sat on the east bench above the valley. In the barn hay was safely stored for the winter.
"Come, ye thankful people, come,
raise the song of harvest home;
all is safely gathered in,
ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide
for our wants to be supplied;
come to God's own temple, come,
raise the song of harvest home
(Come, Ye Thankful People, Come. Henry Alford)."
 Numerous little boys learned to drive on tractors similar to this one. By mid-century the subdivision had begun to encroach on the farmland.

A cantaloupe or watermellon toss were rewards of a hot day in the fields. "Men are that they might have joy (2 Nephi 2:25)"

Horses ready to feed in the large crib located in the coral.

Crates were filled with tomatoes, cherries, beans and other harvested produce. Joe Tuttle center.

Road to the far fields. "Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening (Psalms 104:23)." 

The Book of Mormon counsels that we should "live in thanksgiving daily, for the many mercies and blessings which he doth bestow. . . (Alma 34:38)"

 Florence Tuttle Foy as she was busily engaged in sorting tomatoes. "For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon. . . God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind? (Mosiah 4:19)."

 Uncle Joe after harnessing the Clyesdales.

 Uncle Thoral preparing the hot beds.

 To protect against a late frost hot caps were placed over tender plants.

 Jean Foy sorting and facing cantaloupes.

 Joe Tuttle and his hands as they admire the polished apples ready for market.

 All work and no play? Florence Foy's children and cousins stacked like sardines on a farm horse.

 Lugs were loaded onto trailers by the hired hands - neighbors and cousins.

 Fruit trees in the distant orchards were not pruned as they are now. Pickers used metal hooks and swayed from very tall ladders to harvest the crops.

 Truckloads of peppers and other produce where hauled from the Tuttle fields to market each day.

 A simple man-made reservoir provided water for irrigation and doubled as a duck pond and baptisimal font when necessary. Today "we rely upon complex networks of exchange and transportation that very few of us could begin to explain (Daniel C. Peterson. Mormon Times. Nov. 22, 1912).

 Not exactly young men at this point, both Joe and Thoral Tuttle pad the board upon which they knelt to plant to transplant seedlings. 

 Thoral kneeling again before a crate of cucumbers. The produce was always faced up in neat order to attract the eye of the customer.

A farmer had to be both veterinarian and mechanic to care for and maintain both horses and tractors.

"For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon . . . God, for all the substance which we have, bor both food and raiment . . . which we have of every kind? (Mosiah 4:19)." During this month we give thanks to God and remember those who have preceded us for the blessings we receive as a result.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

October, Month of Birthday Wishes and Halloween Treats

Two days ago, October 11, 2012 was the 114th celebration of Grandma Foy's birthday. Family was everything to Grandma so it seems appropriate that we mark this day with a tribute to her children: Jean Audrey, Lola Gwyn, Julia Mae, Inez Tuttle, Leslie Tuttle, and Sarah Ann. The eldest two, Jean and Lola, were born in Idaho; the middle two, Julia and Inez, in Logan, Utah; the only son, Leslie, in Bountiful, Utah; and the youngest, Sally, in Moab, Utah.

A widow for over 61 years, her dying wish was that her family would strive to keep warm relationships. In her last few days the continued peaceful associations of her immediate family was on her mind when she stated, "Oh, I do hope my children will stay close to each other." The bonds of closeness can mean both steady physical contact and tranquil feelings of harmony between family members. While a summer reunion is a traditional time for gathering, the approaching holiday season is also a time to send a loving note or make a phone call to aunties, uncles and cousins. Why wait until November or December. Send a Halloween greeting, instead!

I asked my mother, Inez, how she and her siblings celebrated Halloween. These are her recollections:

"We didn't have many close neighbors. Squint and Netta Hart were almost a block away so just getting that far in the dark was spooky enough. We would dress up in handmade costumes and go down to Uncle Joe and Aunt Susie's house, next door to Haven (Mama's nephew) and Aurelia Days, across the street to the Breys. They were German and Mr. Brey was our home teacher. He would come and sit for what seemed like hours just watching us do homework or practice the piano. Then up the street passed the field where the gypsies - real gypsies - once camped out and along to the Harts. We would knock on the door and sing 'Hallelujah, I'm a Bum,' ending by yelling 'Trick or Treat!' Sometimes we would sneak up to a house, lay a hand carved empty wooden thread spool which had been wrapped in string against the glass. When we quickly pulled the string it produced a loud rasping noise to scare the folks inside. It was great fun and resulted in our receiving various homemade treats."

Happy Halloween, spooky treks, mischievous tricks and delicious homemade treats are wishes to you all!

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Florence Howard Tuttle, Our Grandmother

Florence Howard Tuttle is a lady we grandchildren loved in life and cherish in death. She was an early resident of Bountiful where she was born on the east bench of the Wasatch Mountains overlooking the valley. She lived to a grand old age, dying just short of her hundredth birthday. Although she made amazingly productive use of all those years, as a decades-long widow, she was ready the last thirty to return to her Heavenly Father and husband. 

On both of Florence's family branches, Tuttle and Howard, grew hardy Mormon pioneers. Before traveling over the American plains, the Howards lived in the green countryside of Worcestershire and Staffordshire, England. The Tuttles were of Connecticut stock, having sunk their roots early into New England. 

Throughout her life, Florence diligently explored her  pioneer and pilgrim ancestry. She lovingly sought out and recorded the lives of generations of her ancestors. She shared the stories collected and written during her research with each of us in Books of Remembrance.  Help us honor their memory and, in the process, that of our dear grandmother by visiting this site often.