Visits to Logan, Utah

  I am writing a book of stories from my life.  It is called "Grandma's Stories."  Following is one of the stories from that book.

Visits to Logan

Both of my parents grew up in Logan, Utah.  After schooling, marrying, and living in many different places while a doctor in the army, they settled in Caldwell, Idaho. Each summer, mom would take us to Logan, Utah to visit my grandma.  As I remember, Logan was about 6 ½ hours away from Caldwell by car.

This is a picture of many of us on Grandma’s front steps:

I love this picture!

Uncle Glen, Dad

Grandma Peterson, Pam, Patty

Mom, John, Uncle Overn

Kay, Linda, Scott, Martha, Joan

I'm guessing that Aunt Dorothy was taking the picture.

Grandma and Grandpa Peterson

  Grandma was a widow for many years.  Visits were important to her.  We would usually stay for a couple of weeks.  I remember once, when I was very little, riding the train to visit her.  But, most often, we took a road trip.  My mom would drive, sometimes taking turns with Phyllis Hull.  Phyllis was my mother’s good friend and was also from Logan, so she would go with us sometimes and visit her family there.  Sometimes my dad would drive, but I don’t think he would stay the whole time.  I don’t remember the details of that.  But I do remember sitting in the back, back-facing seat in the station wagon and waving at people in following cars to pass the time. It seemed like such a long trip.  I also remember coming over the hill into Cache Valley, anticipating being the first to see the Logan temple.  The deal was whoever saw it and called it first got a chocolate milkshake.  Well, at least we were supposed to get one.  But I don’t remember ever actually getting one.

Grandma, without fail, would make divinity candy in anticipation of our arrival.  She would layer the sweet confections between pieces of waxed paper in a covered tin.  After our first dinner there, she would say, with a twinkle in her eye, “Should I get out the DI?”  She thought she was fooling us, by starting to spell it, but, honestly, I thought the name of the candy was DI.  I never heard it called divinity.  I think I was an adult before I knew it’s real name.

We so enjoyed our visits to Logan.  Joan and I loved playing upstairs in the attic.  There were two bedrooms up there, a large closet, a large storage room, and a small bathroom.  There was a desk with an old typewriter and a bell.  We loved playing secretary and doctor’s office at the desk.  There was also a bookshelf with many books.  I don’t remember ever going in the storage room until after grandma died.  It was full of treasures.

We loved going out in the garden with the rich black soil.  It was a beautiful garden and we ate delicious vegetables from that garden: peas, beans, tomatoes, etc.  We helped snap the beans and shell the peas out on the sidewalk or little green porch.  There was a particular smell out in that garden.  It emanated from the incinerator in the center of the garden.  People burned their own trash in those days, and it created a distinctive, lingering smell.

Grandma made delicious food for us.  Usually, we ate in the kitchen, but, on special occasions, we ate on china in the dining room.  I loved the sparkling dinnerware and conversation, and particularly those meals were when Uncle Glen visited or/ and when my dad was there, too.

We loved playing in the living room.  Grandma had a small statue of the “hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil” monkeys.

 Those were fascinating to me.  We also loved playing with trinkets displayed in the kitchen: the chicken that laid an egg when you pressed down on it

 

 

 

  

And a plastic man made out of electricity volts:

We also loved playing outside.  Her green front steps (no longer green) made the perfect place to play graduation.  We marched slowly as we sang “Pomp and Circumstance.”  Along the walk and up the stairs we would go to collect our diploma.

We also loved to play in the deep ditch.  They have changed it now, but the ditches used to be very deep and moss grew in them.  We would go to the top of the hill and slide down on the slippery moss in the very cold water as cars whizzed past us.  Oh dear.

 One summer, we made friends with little girls that lived across the street from Grandma: Melissa and Melinda, two little girls of Mexican descent.  That was the best summer ever.  They were about our age and we had so much fun playing with them every day.

It was about a 2 ½ block walk to our other grandpa’s house, and we were often allowed to walk over there to visit he and Grandma Beena.  Grandma Beena was Grandpa’s second wife as our grandma had died when I was just two-years-old.    We LOVED Grandma Beena, his new wife, and probably drove her crazy.  But she was always so cheerful, kind, and hospitable. They always had us over for a meal during our stay.  I have vivid memories of walking into their house to the smell of baking rolls.  Grandma Beena made the best rolls in the whole world.  After dinner, we would go out on the back patio and grandpa would tell stories and we would sing and sing. 

 

Grandma Beena with me, Ellen, and Joan on their back patio

Sometime during our visit, we would go to the Bluebird café.  I loved ordering a cherry ironport (soda) and we would get chocolates.  I always chose a Merry Widow (white chocolate covering caramel and pecans.)  We also frequently did our back-to-school shopping in the shops on Main Street.  It was tradition to shop there.  When I was a teenager, I loved to go the fabric store there and buy material and patterns to make clothes.  Joan and I wandered the streets of Logan freely.  We loved to play on the steps of the old courthouse, just about a half block from Grandma’s house.  We also loved to walk up to the temple.  It was just up the street from Grandma’s house as she lived on Second North.  We would climb to the top of the grassy hill and roll down to the bottom.

Logan was a special place to me in my childhood.  I still have those feelings of nostalgia when I visit the special city of Logan, Utah.