At the time I did not understand what a huge influence my dad was in helping me become the man I am today. In fact even that statement does not describe how unaware I was in regards to the relationship that would develop between me and my dad. I have three distinct memories of the earliest times where I went to work with dad. 

While still living in the Pink House in Spanish Fork, which would have made me 6 or maybe 7, I had a day off of school and dad took me with him to work. We were working on a fourplex apartment in Orem. Besides playing on the dirt hill with my orange dump truck and picking up scrap wood and nails I remember two distinct things. The building was two stories and they already had the walls up on the first floor and I was able to help dad put on the subfloor. He would roll up the floor joist and I’d hold it steady while he nailed it in place. After a long morning we had the floor on and I remember sitting on the edge next to dad with my feet dangling over the side and eating my sandwich thinking how cool it was to be sitting there on the floor that we had just built. This fourplex is still there at the corner of 1854 South Columbia Lane in Orem.

Another time I recall going to work with dad at around the same time was another fourplex apartment at 1350 South 800 East Orem. This time we were finishing up getting all of the blocking in place before the dry wallers came in to hang the sheetrock. I had gone around the whole project gathering up all of the scrap wood that I could find and dad used the scraps for the backing. This was a Saturday, oh the many Saturdays I spent working with dad, and we pretty well had things finished by noon and just as we were ready to leave one of dad’s friends stopped by and they got to talking. I think that I remember this time working with dad because it was Saturday after all and we were done but dad talked and talked and …talked. I was kicking dirt clods and sitting in the truck listening to the radio all the while my Saturday was wasting away.

The last of my earliest memories of working with dad was going with him as he worked on our house in Edgemont, 764 East Crestview Avenue Provo to be exact. I was able to help with everything from digging the basement to poring the cement for the sidewalks to planting the grass.

I recently had a chance to take Dena, Jessica, Molli and Delene to Provo to visit mom and dad’s graves. This trip was especially memorable because after saying hi to mom and dad we drove around Provo and Orem where I showed them some of the homes and buildings that I had worked on with dad. He definitely left a wonderful impact on the landscape of Utah Valley. The more I showed them around and told stories of what we did here and what we did there the more I came to realize the impact that working with dad left on me. I can never begin to express how learning the value of a good day’s work effected my life. Dad taught me that through hard work, perseverance, learning, studding, and sacrifice I could achieve my dreams. I am now 61 years old and since I was 16 I have never ever been out of a job. I have always worked and worked hard at whatever endeavor I have been engaged in. I hope that I have in return passed these values on to my children.