Looking back through Mark's eyes

I don't know about you, but I love discovering what a writing coach once described as "little gold coins" sprinkled throughout whatever I'm reading. He described them as little surprises that reward, and maybe even enlighten, the reader.

As you read through Mark Henderson's memories of his youth, which I've excerpted on the the family Web site, you'll find lots of valuable, entertaining and informative items. For example, did you know Grandpa and Grandma moved the family around Burlington a little bit during the first few years of their marriage?

"While I was still very young, we moved to A.E. Schlaef's ranch two miles southwest of Burlington, where we raised some very good crops. At the end of three years we moved back to our own farm."

Or:

"In 1924 we moved to Orson Johnson's home in Burlington so my brother would not have so far to walk to school. We lived there only one year before returning to our own farm, which, at that time, consisted of 80 acres."

Mark also remembers details that soak the narrative with information about life's conveniences -- or lack thereof -- and customs of the time. Like this:

"In the fall of 1925 I started to elementary school. My brother and I had to walk a mile and a half to get to the school wagon every morning and back at night. It was a covered wagon with a pot-bellied stove for keeping us warm in the winter when it got quite cold. My aunt, Roah Dunsworth, was my teacher in the first and second grades ... . The only spanking I ever got in school occurred when I refused to act the part of the pig in the story of the Little Red Hen, in the first grade, when my aunt spanked me with an axe handle which had been fashioned into a paddle."

And here's another one of those gold coins, when Mark talks about the family's looming trip to Salt Lake City in 1928 to go through the LDS Church temple there:

"My older brother and I were old enough at the time to really get excited about such a trip and lay awake many a night planning and talking about that exciting trip."

Maybe it's just me, but that sentence creates a terrific little scene of two boys so excited for a journey they can't sleep. It takes me back to my childhood, and anticipation of various road trips we took as a family.

But this was no ordinary road trip. As Mark recalls, it was crowded and eventful. All the kids -- eight of them -- plus Grandma and Grandpa -- made the trip, via Yellowstone National Park, in a 1927 Chevy. It's a great story.



Also, Mark talks in some detail about farm life, school and religion during his youth. He captures -- as I said, with lots and lots of great, revealing detail -- what it was like to grow up during hard times. When I read his story, and our late Uncle Rip's, which I featured in January, it puts into perspective the current financial situation in our country and the world: troublesome, yes, but we're all watching it unravel on television or while listening to it via podcasts on our iPods.

Anyway, I hope you'll take time to read through Mark's recollections and learn a bit more about a great man in our family.