Brothers and Sisters: Full names, birthdates, and place of birth, death dates, place of death, cause of death and where they are buried.
Ward Oscar Lasson was born July 25, l9l8. He died of a heart attack at home in
Birdseye, Utah. He is buried in the Spanish Fork cemetery. He died May 9, 1993.
Edythe Lasson Dame was born February 7, l920. She died of lung disease in Idaho, on 28 May, 1991. The place of death is listed as Ontario, Oregon, so that maybe is where the hospital was located. She was buried in Spanish Fork cemetery on June 3, 1991.
O’Leah Lasson Hurst was born January 20, l926. I am still kicking and grumbling at the time of this typing. Died April 15, 2008.
Electa Lasson Brown Inman was born May 5, l928 . She was the third daughter and had auburn curly hair. She was a darling baby - so petite. She had a sweet disposition and resembled our mother very much.
Marilyn Kay Lasson Mitchell was born October l6, l936 in Birdseye, Utah, in our home. Mother and Dad lived there until they died. I was ten years old, and I can recall very vividly when she was born. They had brought Mom’s bed out into the living room near the heat from the coal stove. My aunt was there to help and so was the doctor from Fairview. Dad had to drive about l7 miles to tell him she was in labor. They sent all four of us into the bedroom to listen to the radio. I can recall getting to hold that little girl baby when she was just a few minutes old.
My paternal grandfather, Ole Lasson, Junior was born May 20, 1854 in Nobbelov, Jaisherod, Sweden. He died April 5, 1938 in Fairview, Utah and is buried there in the newer cemetery up on the hill. My grandmother, Cynthia Philinda Terry, was born Oct 22, 1860 in Union Fort, Utah and died March 17, 1937 in Fairview. She is buried at his side.
My maternal grandfather Jacob Hyrum Spencer, was born Nov 5, 1845 in the area around Hancock county, Illinois. He died Dec 17, 1922 in Birdseye, Utah. He is buried in ???. My grandmother, Sally Elmer was born Mar 22, 1852 in Council Bluffs, Pottawattamie, Iowa. She died Dec 10, 1910 in Birdseye, Utah.
Only my dad’s parents were alive when I was born. I rarely saw them smile, but I knew them during their older years. I was 10 when the last one died.
My grandfather Lasson spoke Swedish. He lived in Sweden until he was 14 years of age, then came across the plains with his family. My grandma often wore a long gingham dress, with an apron covering it full length. They lived in Fairview, Utah in a modest frame home on an acre of land. Grandpa had fruit trees, also a milk cow which he milked every day. He took delight that my mom could milk for him. None of his other daughter-in-laws could milk.
Grandma Lasson dried bag after bag of apples, then hung them upstairs on a roof support beam. They were good. Grandmother always had a large earthenware churn that she kept full of raisin-filled cookies. I loved them!
My Uncle Frank and Aunt Rae were my favorite relatives. Uncle Frank was mother’s older brother. They were the ones who lived on a sheep ranch about five miles from our home. Mother and Aunt Rae were very close and so we interacted with them very often. We ate dinner many times at their home. Uncle Frank smoked all the time, but he developed cancer of the lips and had to give it up. He was not active in the church until he married Aunt Rae; she wouldn’t marry anyone who was not active in the church. She was a great influence in his life.
I attended all six grades in a one-room schoolhouse. There were probably a total of l9 students who were all taught by one teacher. I was the only one my age in first grade, so they promoted me to third grade. I wasn’t that sharp but they didn’t want to arrange teaching materials for only one student. When they promoted me to third grade, there were three girls and three boys.
The school was located about seven miles from our home. A school bus picked us up each morning. Our home was the end of the bus route, so we had to be ready and on time the minute the driver showed up at the end of the lane. He didn’t wait for us or take excuses.
The playground at school was open and there wasn’t any grass or asphalt. It was native grass and shrubs. It had an outdoor bathroom facility - one for the girls and one for the boys. We didn’t have water in the school building. Water was brought to school in a ten-gallon can and turned upside down with a faucet at the bottom where we could fill our white waxed paper cups.
My best subject was math and reading to the other kids. I wasn’t too keen on painting and crafts.
We did not have a school cafeteria. We each had a sack lunch and many times we exchanged our lunches with the other kids. I would take lunchmeat or tuna sandwiches, a cookie, and an apple.
To school, we wore dresses with long stockings. We wore heavy coats and mittens or gloves. It was very cold in the winter up Spanish Fork Canyon.
I loved school every year and looked forward to it each autumn. I got bored during the summer months on the ranch. As a child, I had measles and mumps when I was young. However, I caught the remaining diseases with my kids.
Dad was inactive in church most of his life. He was a user of tobacco.
We attended church in our combination school house and church building.
My best friends were Odetta Gardner (deceased) Lynna Siler (spelling?) Ann Gardner (Mt. Pleasant).
My favorite song was Jesus wants me for a sunbeam. My favorite saying was “Beauty is as beauty does.” I liked the radio program, “Fibber McGee & Mollie”.
I never had a bike. There was just no money for that. We wore dresses to play in and went barefoot as much as possible. We had cattle dogs but they worked on the ranch and were kept outside. We always had kittens and cats. As far as family trips, we went camping down to Bryce Canyon and Zion’s Park and slept in tents. We were taken to the movies on special occasions. I have bitter memories of trips to the dentist. I had many teeth filled and pulled.
Permanents were painful. Hair was curled on rods and hot clamps placed on top. Many a burn was given to the scalp.
A lot of men hitchhiked across country when I was a child. They would come to your home and ask for food. Mother always gave them food, but when she wasn’t home, we would hide in the cellar until they left.
We used to go up in the mountains with our horses to cut down our Christmas cedar trees. I can recall being pulled on a sled behind the horse and holding on to the tree so it wouldn‘t fall from the sled. My brother, Ward, used to set animal traps for coyotes and other animals. I can remember going with him to check out his traps and haul the animal pelts on the back of the sled with me balancing myself on top of them.
At Christmas as a family, we read the Bible story of the birth of Jesus Christ. On Christmas Eve, we all gathered around the stove and ate candy and nuts, as many as we desired. Then we got to open all our gifts except the ones that Santa brought. We usually got new pajamas or a nightgown.
We hung our stockings by pinning them to the back of the sofa. I did believe in Santa Claus, and I was quite old before I actually believed he did not exist. For Christmas, Mother always made plum pudding, fruit cake. Dad loved it.
On Easter, we always had an Easter egg hunt and basket. We always went to church and showed off new clothes. Thanksgiving was spent at the family home. We had Turkey dressing, hot rolls, candied yams, vegetables, potatoes and gravy, stuffed celery, fruit and pumpkin pies. On Memorial Day, we always went to Payson and decorated graves for Mom’s family. The Lasson family took care of graves in Fairview.
Our home was a happy home, and we shared much love. There was an l8 year spread between the oldest and youngest child among my siblings. We only had two bedrooms in the house and so it was a crowded bedroom.
We lived on a cattle ranch which was actually too small to provide enough income to support a family. We would have one or two good years and then a series of years when money had to be borrowed to sustain the family. As children, we were not treated as if we didn’t have any money. We thought we were living as high as the rest of the children on the other ranches.
I was a sophomore in Spanish Fork when World War II broke out. I remember sugar and gasoline being rationed. When I dated, it was always with at least another couple because gas and cars were very limited. Nylons were unavailable and so they were considered a luxury. We were encouraged to buy savings bonds and saving stamps.
I started wearing glasses when I was 11. I did have freckles. I was right handed. I was fairly average in size - maybe on the short side. I had hazel eyes and brown hair and. I got a permanent in my hair each September whether I needed it or not. I just wore it pulled back with a ribbon tied around my head. I had three sisters who were all red headed and my brother, Ward, used to tell me I was adopted because my hair didn’t match the other girls. We curled our hair by putting it in pin-curls with bobby pins.
I had pneumonia when I was 15 that was very serious. I was in a coma for two weeks, and the doctors didn’t think I would live. They told my parents to gather the family together to say goodbye.
I learned cookie making and candy making from my mother.
I attended the Spanish Fork Junior High. It housed the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth grades. I absolutely loved the Junior High experience. We had a teacher for each subject. Also we had ballroom dancing every Friday, and I just lived for Friday. I always had boys a plenty to dance with, and it was good for my ego. It was such a neat class. A woman and her brother taught the class. He was married, but she had never married. They were so cute together.
The junior high school was a red brick rectangular building, all on the same floor. There were approximately 300 to 350 students in the entire school. It was twenty-six miles from my house.
We usually arrived at school about 8:45. We left school about 4:15 pm and arrived home shortly after five p.m. We always wore dresses or skirts and sweaters with long winter coats. It was very cold during most of the school year. We wore long stockings or knee highs until spring when we would bring out the anklets. We wore oxfords or casual slip-ons. In the winter, we sometimes wore galoshes.
We didn’t have any choices in subject matter. The girls took Home Economics and the boys took Shop. We were taught to cook and to do simple sewing. I remember making an apron which had bias tape sewn all around the edges of the apron. I don’t think it stayed together long enough to be washed twice. I loved math and English and P.E. I just loved school. I liked basketball and other sports. I wasn’t very tall but I was fast to run and dodge.
In high school, I didn’t have much class selection, but was interested in business classes, such as typing, shorthand and bookkeeping. I had a speech teacher that I just idolized. Her name was Jane Tanner. She was single and dedicated to her teaching role. She taught drama, English and speech. I had a class from her each year I was in high school. She was in charge of the school plays. I always felt left out because the practices were after school. I couldn’t stay, as I always had to catch the bus.
When I was a sophomore, I awoke one morning with severe pain in my chest. Mother was alarmed and drove me to the doctor at five in the morning. They found I had pneumonia in both of my lungs and was hospitalized at once. I was there for three weeks and was in a coma about two of those weeks. Sulfa drugs were just being used to fight infection, and they were good but so slow. We did not have penicillin which would have been faster treatment. In fact, they called all the family home to say goodbye as they thought I was leaving them. I can remember hearing robins singing outside my hospital window. I just thought I heard them. When I came out of the coma, all I wanted to eat was lemons and salt and dill pickles. Things have never been the same since.
I wasn’t a very serious student, but I did do my homework and got good grades. I was on the winning basketball girl’s team. I was about to be in one drama when I got sick with pneumonia and could not complete it.
I was a student body officer all three years I was in high school. I ran for office in ninth grade and didn’t get it, but it made me more visible and was successful in High School. My senior year I made it as head cheerleader with my very closest friend, Zola Gull. We thought we had the world by the tail. Our family doctor said he would come to the games to see all my energy. He said when I was in the hospital he never thought he see me with so much energy two years later.
I was secretary for the Sophomore Class, Queen of the Sweetheart Ball my junior year, and cheerleader my senior year. I was also the girl’s school representative one of those years.
I went to every Jr. Prom, Sr. Prom, Homecoming Dance and every other school dance for all three years. I only missed the ones in May of my sophomore year. I never felt I was popular but they said I was.
We had l00 in our graduating class and I was so unhappy for school to end. I had a date for graduation, and we went to a dance afterwards and then to dinner in Provo then on to Salt Lake City. We woke up my sister, Edythe, who was living in an apartment there. We woke her up at three A.M. and all eight of us piled into her 4 x 4 apartment, and she graciously rubbed her eyes and fixed some breakfast for all of us. I can’t remember what breakfast was - only that it was a fun time. I got home about dawn the next day.
I have gone to USU over the course of several years, but I never did graduate. I do have enough credits to graduate but I never did do my student teaching for my senior block.
As a young adult, I was very energetic and always on the go. I loved to dance and date and that is mostly what I did. When I graduated from High School, it was l943 and the war was on and so we, Zola and I, went to BYU and stayed with her parents and rode a trolley to Provo every day. We only stayed one quarter, as there were no cute boys to date and school alone was boring. So we went to Palo Alto and worked at Moffitt Navy Air Base. We had a friend working as a telegrapher there and we moved in with her. She was in nursing school in Utah and accidentally gave the wrong medicine to a patient and the patient died. She couldn’t handle it and so she had gone to California to get away from her bad experience.
As a child, I wanted to be an airline stewardess when I grew up. My first job was at Ironton Steel Plant located between Springville and Provo. Zola and I each got a job there. She was in the accounting section as she was the smartest and a very good student. I ended up in the Shipping and Receiving area, but I liked it there. Then we decided to go to California. We went to work right out of High School and then BYU and then California.
I was going to become secretary, and I worked at that for the first four years of my marriage while Rex was getting his B.S. and M.S. When I was about 7 months pregnant with Craig, I quit work and stayed home with my children after that. Motherhood became my career. At that time, when you got married, the women dropped out of school and worked to let the husband get his degree. The woman was expected to be a homemaker, and the man the breadwinner.
I have had various jobs: Mother, Sears in the catalog department, Logan Hospital Credit Union
We were very poor for the first seven years of our marriage as Rex was pursuing his Doctorate at Cornell University. We didn’t have a car for the first two years of our marriage and no telephone. We heated our apartment with coal and wood. Rex did some yard work and I did the laundry for the older lady who lived in the other half of the house. With this contribution, we rented the apartment for $11.00 per month.
My best friends were Zola Gull, Berniece Ostler, Betty, Ila, Toni and there were lots of boys who were friends.
The fads were Joyce shoes, Jantzen sweaters, and saddle oxfords.
I got my first high heels when I was 16.
I liked Frank Sinatra
I taught myself how to drive when I was 14 and drove the car down the small hill to the outside toilet and then reversed it and drove back up the hill- then I’d drive it around and around the house.
The only cars we had were Fords, Fords, and Fords. A relative was a Ford dealer.
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Interview Jan 10, 2006
Rex and I met at the university in 1946 in Feb, and by April had a diamond. In August, we were married. We went on honeymoon to Canada in the Northwest. We went for two weeks. It was kind of fun. (Laugh.)
Did you share a bedroom? We shared stories and speeding tickets and all that sort of stuff.
We came here to go to school. Rex was a sophomore, and I had one year of college. I worked for seven years doing alfalfa research, so my paycheck was actually from the federal government. I worked for them for three years. I didn’t work after 1949. Dad worked part time, and we had the GI bill because of serving in WWII. It was about $120 a month. It got you by, just barely.
We rented a house on the boulevard from a little German lady. She rented a bedroom, kitchen and bath on one side of the house. We did errands and did laundry. It seems like I had a hand paddle that I had to use for laundry. I never seemed to get her clothes white enough for her. We lived there before Craig was born. That house had now been destroyed. We later lived down on 7th North and Main. And now that house is torn down, so wherever we lived, people tore down our places. (laugh)
We kept on going to school. We moved to Provo for one year – so Rex could do celery plant research. Rex got a scholarship to Cornell for $1000 plus tuition. We didn’t have a nickel to our name – we didn’t have anything, just that we thought we could live on that $1000.
We moved to Ithaca and lived with an LDS family who rented out part of their home. They had a huge great room with a kitchen/ bar in one part. I never did know exactly what the husband did. He traveled a lot – going all the time, and hob-knobbing with politicians, governors. One week to New York and another to Boston. The woman was from Boston, and he was from Arizona. They had a big ranch home, horses, and lots of acreage. They wanted the great room for their teenagers, but the kids weren’t quite old enough to utilize it, so they rented it out. The idea was for them to get help with the property. If Dad would take care of the horses, repair the barn, and repair fences, they would deduct the cost of wages from the rent. Otherwise, it would have been very, very, very expensive. It was an older home, but had been extended. They had a ten-year-old girl and 12-year-old boy. The wife was a very city-fied gal, but really loved the horses. She rode them a lot.
I know one time the family we lived with went on a vacation for two weeks and asked us to baby sit their two kids. And we were young. We just had Craig at the time. He had a lot of sore throats. We were up night and day with him; he was a cross baby anyway. We didn’t know how to handle their two kids. We were lucky to get them to their dance lessons and their violin lessons. I remember the little girl fell and broke her arm. When we called to tell the parents, they just about had a fit and said, “Well, why weren’t you watching her better?” When they came back, they didn’t want to pay us. They came back and said, “Well, we don’t owe you much, do we?” I was predicting their behavior a bit. They had a housekeeper, so I had talked with her a bit. I said, “I don’t know if they intend to pay us much.” She said, “Well, you make sure they do!” So she gave me some backup, and I just told the lady, “You owe me $300.” So they paid me $300, but there just wasn’t the same chemistry between us after that. They had really treated us like family before, but she wasn’t a warm person anyway – truly a Bostonian. She figured she was about a grade ahead of everybody – and maybe she was.
Anyway, we lived there for a year, and then moved to student housing on campus. That was more fun, because you were around people who were in the same boat as you were. If you were broke, you were all broke together. Plus, you weren’t trying to please somebody all the time.
We had Vicki in college housing. The pregnancy went great. Mothers had to stay in the hospital for ten days after a delivery. We brought home our redheaded daughter. Dad was taking care of us. He had a portable bassinet made of canvas. He was going to use it to bathe Vicki, but it leaked a bit. He was going to put paraffin on it, so it wouldn’t leak. We had gas stoves in the kitchen. He heated up the paraffin and was putting it on the canvas when the wax exploded. I was in the back room with Vicki and didn’t know what happened. He came back in the bedroom to tell us the kitchen had been set on fire. It burnt the floor. The kitchen was pretty well damaged and there was a lot of smoke damage. When the kitchen burst into flames, it was so hot at the top that the curtain tops had burnt, and the curtains fell to the ground. It had been really hot in there. Vicki and I were moved to someone else’s apartment for a few days while they got ours cleaned up. He never did live down that idea of setting the apartment on fire. We still had the old refrigerator and stove; they just cleaned it up.
We came back to Logan – came for $4600 a year. He had been offered $5400 a year if he stayed in Washington DC, but I wanted to come out west, and he did too. USU was our only offer in the West, so this is where we came.
We rented a house on Canyon Road and then bought some property about 8 blocks further up. We had a house built for us at 812 Canyon Road. That’s the house we moved into in 1954. We lived there until 1971.
When Gary was born on February 22, 1959, I had a staph infection and was put back in the hospital. I wasn’t allowed to take care of him for five months. They wouldn’t let me touch anything on the doors or his diapers or anything. Rex broke out in boils because of the staph infection. My doctor at the hospital was a carrier, and I didn’t know it. The infection was in my breast. They thought I had milk fever, so they were treating me for that. They told me my breast looked like a hard cantaloupe. Every doctor in Logan came by my room to look at that cantaloupe. I was so embarrassed. They didn’t know what it was. The doctor (a Budge) didn’t want to lance it. He left town. The doctor who was in charge said, “Well if I’m in charge, I’m going to lance it. “ They put me in another room – not an operating room, as they didn’t want to contaminate it. When they cut into it, the infection hit the ceiling. I had a wick put into it for draining for six weeks. Every other day, I would go into the hospital, and they would split open the scar tissue so it would drain. I thought I would die. Grandma Lasson came to take care of me for three weeks, but it was too much for her. That was as long as she could take the stress. I was really bad – and weak. I was really a mess.
Grandma Lasson just got so depressed and tired – it was just too hard on her. She said, “I don’t know what you are going to do, but I can’t take any more of it.” Rex would come off the hill (from USU) twice a day to feed Gary a bottle because I wasn’t allowed to touch my baby. Or, Rex would get him started, and I could hold a bottle. I could turn him over using a blanket; I just couldn’t touch him. And then Rex would come home and have the baby all night. He would care for Gary and for me. Cherri was only 3 at the time – but she could take care of herself. Anyway, I didn’t have any trouble with Cherri.
Did the Relief Society come to help? The Relief Society didn’t come to help. I can’t remember why. We just didn’t tell them, I guess, and they never seemed to know. I do remember the architect that built our house found out about it, and his wife brought over a pie. I do remember that. But that is the only recollection I have of anybody knowing about it. I didn’t talk to anyone, and I guess they assumed I was just staying home with the baby. And then when your mother stays a while, they think, “Oh she’s taking care of them.”
When Gary was just five months old, Rex decided he wanted to go on Sabbatical to Iowa State. I was just so far out of it (because of the infection); I didn’t do a thing. Rex cleaned out the fruit room and got the house ready to rent. I don’t remember doing a thing. I don’t remember even traveling back there until we got there.
Vicki: I remember wanting to hold Gary on the trip to Iowa. Craig made me the deal that he would hold Gary on the way to Iowa, and I could hold him on the way back (a year later). But on the way back, Gary wasn’t a cute baby any more, so I got the raw end of that deal!
I can’t even remember going. We went. Rex said, “I’ll do all of it ,and you take care of the kids.” He loved it there, but it was a hard year on the kids and me. We had everything – flu, chicken pox, measles – and I got everything right along with the kids. It was so hot and we had no air conditioning. They would be crying because they were so hot and miserable. I remember calling the pediatrician and asking what to do about the pain of chicken pox down the throat. I can’t remember what he said, but then I asked, “What would you recommend for me?” He said, “My Hell, you’re no child. Take care of yourself.” In other words, I’m a pediatrician. I don’t take care of adults. I’ve never asked another doctor for help with another patient. He was really rude. I wasn’t sleeping. I remember him saying, “Try some hot milk.”
We were stake missionaries, so I didn’t get to know the ward members much. We were always out – not proselyting much, but meeting with the in-actives and holding church. It was fascinating to me because some of the families I’m sure never got bathed and dressed up until we showed up. They had been baptized in the church – but were just backward or hill billy-ish. They were nice people - common people. I don’t know that they ever got active enough to come to a regular church meeting. I didn’t particularly enjoy my church calling there. But Rex enjoyed it all – he was learning, and he was at the height while he was learning.
While we were in Iowa, Vicki was baptized. I remember her running around in the quad (the houses were arranged in a rectangle around a grassy area for play) in a white dress. I used to have a picture of that somewhere.
Vicki: I think I have that picture. (With a twinkle) Yeah, probably any pictures that are any good, you guys have taken.
Then we came back to Logan in 1960. We had a surprise package with Steven. One time Steve asked me if I were shocked when I found out I was pregnant. I told him, “Yes – I didn’t ever think I would be able to have him.” I was having a lot of problems and didn’t know if I would have him. I had been told not to get pregnant after Gary. A few weeks before Steve was born, Craig said, “You better get some baby clothes – because you are going to have a baby.”
Steve asked me, “Well, why did you get pregnant when you were told not to.” As I started to explain, he backed off saying, “Oh, you told me too much. I don’t want to hear.” (With a laugh) So don’t ask for something you don’t want to hear. I got a kick out of that.
We stayed here in Logan. All kids have gone to Utah State, got their degrees, met their spouses at Utah State or close by (Ogden/Salt Lake), and all have been married in the temple. All have been very productive.
What have been your favorite callings? I worked in the Young Women for years and years. Grandpa and I were dance directors for years and years when we were down on the Island. We would take dance festivals down to Rice stadium in Salt Lake. It was a lot of work – but it was fun, very rewarding. We were stake dance directors – for the stake, not just for the young people. We taught square dancing for special interest groups. When we moved to Ninth North, they asked us to be dance directors again – but we said we just couldn’t do it any more. We had left our kids so much; we just couldn’t do it any more. And we had – we had left you and Craig a lot. We stopped dancing pretty much in 1970 – and just did it occasionally. Dance director was a fun calling – because I could do it with Dad. Dad was a very good dancer – better than I. He could study the steps and do them – but I had to be shown.
I worked in the Young Women – both as a teacher, counselor, and secretary. I liked that calling. I was in that for years. Then I was called to be Primary president – for a term- four or five years. I liked it, but not as well as the Young Women. I felt more like a mother in the Primary – to the young teachers. I had teachers who were not active or from part member families. The bishopric was trying to activate them. That’s a place where they felt the teachers could have a calling and be active because they knew more than the kids. It was the teachers you were training. I heard a lot of sad stories. I’ve been in RS presidency, taught, and was stake RS teacher for a few years. I’ve been visiting teaching supervisor.
We used to square dance just for fun – every Friday or Saturday, depending on who the caller was. And your dad liked that. We did a lot of ballroom dancing. When we were both students at the university, we were part of a ballroom dance group – sponsored by the institute group. Grandpa was president of the group, so we did a lot of the presentations and teachings: ballroom dancing and square dance. We were in charge of Gold and Green balls – many, many, many.
I like biographies and poetry. I like some hand work – knitting, cross-stitching, and crocheting.
We belonged to lots of bowling leagues. I bowled with a women’s group – and then we went as a mixed doubles group.
That’s how I dated – was dancing.
We had church study groups every month, and then the activities turned into playing cards and having dinner. Then it just got so we were having dinner. And then it got so we were just going out to dinner, as no one wanted to cook (with a laugh). And then it just broke up.
I remember that you said that one of the most important things about picking a mate was that he could dance. That’s right. My dad didn’t dance, and mom loved to. She said, “Don’t ever marry someone who can’t dance. You’ll regret it all your life.” Well, I don’t think if my Dad had danced, they would have ever danced. They lived out on the farm and didn’t have many opportunities to dance. But somehow in my mind, I thought that dancing was very, very important. I look back on it now and think, “Where are your priorities?” Grandpa (Rex) liked to dance – almost better than I.
I love to dip chocolates. And it hasn’t been easy for me to get this heavy, but with dipping chocolates, every year a few more pounds. I’ve been working hard on it for eighty years – and look where it’s got me. (Laughing)
Where do you think you got your crazy sense of humor? Does anyone in your family have that sense of humor? Does your Mom? No. I don’t know where I got that sense of humor. I think I’m the only one.
Your family (of origin) is really spread out – 18 years. Yeah, and not one of us were planned.
But she didn’t plan not to have you. Oh, I think she did – but it didn’t work out that way. I don’t think any one of us was a thrill to think – Oh I’ve got another one coming.
Electa and I were the closest in age – but she is so different from me. She is so lady-like. And everything that mother could do, Electa could do. They would both sit in a rocking chair and knit or crochet or cross-stitch. And they would do handwork for hours. It about drove me crazy. I would say, “Let’s go outside and play.” (False childish voice) And Electa would answer, “No, don’t want too. It’s too hot. I don’t like the sun.” Unless we had cousins or friends, she never came outside to play with us.
So who did you play with? Myself! I rode horses or … (laughing) watched the hay men.
What do you like to do now? Nothing, nothing nothing. (laughing)
Is television your favorite? Visiting? Vicki: I remember as a kid, you would spend HOURS every day talking to the same people. Were you doing housework as you talked or just talking?
I think I was just talking. That was my contact. I know you kids got in a lot of things while I was talking. It was with Mae a lot.
But what did you have to say for that long every day? Who knows?
I remember listening to your conversations. And you would tell me after, “Well, that story isn’t ours to tell. Just because you heard me say it, you can’t repeat it.” We would eavesdrop on your conversations.
I remember one time Mae saying, “My kids love to come to your house, but your kids don’t like to come to my house.” I said, “But I give them something.” I give them empty bottles, empty spools of thread, empty pill boxes. I saved stuff like that – that would fascinate kids. Then, when they would come and have to leave, I’d say, “Here, take this with you.” And I still like to give people something when they leave. I don’t know why.
Because it didn’t happen to you? No. I don’t know why I gave it to the kids, but I had a whole collection in a box that I saved throughout the year. Then, when they got bored or had to go home, I’d give them something. I know Lily Gerber used to tell me the same thing, “Ricky would have you as parents if you blinked an eye. He thinks you are the greatest parents that every lived.” And he spent a lot of time with us. She was off gallivanting somewhere so Ricky would hang out with Craig. And we would send him home when Rex came home from work. Rex didn’t want another kid in the house for dinner, but Ricky would be in the house until dinner every night.
Lily had a daughter named Barbara. I was in Young Women’s at the time. Lily would say, “You know, I hope you never do anything bad.” I said, “Well, don’t look too closely.” She said, “Well, I’ve got a daughter that actually worships you – and if you ever did anything bad, it would wreck her life.” So I said, “Well, don’t look at me then, ‘cause you’re going to be wrecked.” (laughing)
That’s a scary responsibility to put on somebody young like that.
I used to have a lot of neighborhood kids at the house. That was my philosophy. I wanted the kids at my home and in my yard. I didn’t want to have a baby on the hip and going to look for one. I wanted them at my house. I did it all their lives – I had kids at my house, more than I had my kids out. I was pretty strict and wanted to know what they were doing and wanted to keep their bedtimes regular.
I enjoy eating.
I remember you saying that you were at RS at a table and were laughing so much, people would stop and say, “What are you laughing about. I want to be at your table.” We get that almost every time I go to RS. There are a couple of personalities that we play off of each other. It doesn’t work with other people. There have to be a couple of them and me – and we feed off each other. Jean Perry is so naïve – so honest and sweet and pure – she hasn’t got a bad thought in her head. She is so funny. She doesn’t mean to be funny, but she is.
Sometimes I won’t come to RS, and they’ll say – we didn’t have nearly as much fun without you. But I can be around four others, and it won’t work. There was a lady in line dancing that was the same way. We would play off each other and get the whole group laughing. But then she quit, and it never worked with anybody else. My back talking to someone else is about what it is.
I’ve got a screwy laugh – because people will come to me and say, “I heard you laughing clear across the room.” And I hadn’t even been aware I was laughing. I remember going to one of Edythe Dame’s kid’s weddings after she had died. Of course, I was crying at the wedding – and the kids would say, “Oh, we knew Mom was there – there she was crying. Just like mom would have been.”
Do all the kids cry like that?
No, just Edythe and I. And then I started laughing and they said – “Oh you sound just like mother. It has really been a treat to have you here.”
Kay and Lynn married right out of high school. They were both 18 and high school sweethearts. Mother thought they had better get married, or they would have to. They came up here to USU to school. He was in forestry. And Kay had no skills – whatsoever. I think she had been a poor student in high school. They lived in an apartment right across from us on Canyon Road in the basement. She got a job working for Brunson’s – the ones with the photo studio. Both husband and wife went to work. They had Kay go up and stay with the kids during the day and do housework. She hated it. Mother was lucky to get a towel folded, no matter how it was folded. This lady wanted it folded just so – in thirds, you know the way they do, and stacked by colors and all the same fold. Kay had to do half the work over again. She had never really been taught. She had done some work, but she was the baby of the family and didn’t really do much. She had rheumatic heart as a child. All the time I knew her, mother just waited on her hand and foot. She was the baby and all of us were gone. She didn’t work at all around the house that I knew of. After working at the Brunson’s, Kay would come back crying saying, “I just can’t keep this going, but we can’t live without it.”
We were paying a full tithing. I said to Dad, “I think we ought to take our tithing and give it to Kay and Lynn. Then, I’ll know where it’s going and what its doing. It will just help them.” We did that for over a year. After that, they moved to Fourth North to an upstairs apartment, and he got more work. Then they were fine, but that first year, they about starved to death. I don’t remember having them over to dinner much, but I do remember taking food over to them.
Cherri asked, “How did Dad let you get away with that?” Well, he questioned me, but I guess he figured if that is what you want to do, go ahead and do it.
My mother had lived on a sheep farm or a cattle range all her life. She was only educated up until the eighth grade, so she was really poorly educated. She would really stress proper language. She would correct your language, no matter where you were – if the verb didn’t match the noun in terms of grammar or tense. I don’t know where she got that training, as she didn’t get it in school. Anyway, they had cattle that they sent up into the mountains every summer to graze. They would send up a chuck wagon. It was actually a covered wagon, white canvas on the top. They would send up a cow herder or a cowboy to watch these cattle over the summer. They would send food up to him, or he would ride the horse down on Saturday to get a bath and then pick up food for the next week. He was up there all alone. This was my brother, Ward’s, summer job for several years. You could get up there by horse, but you couldn’t get up there with a car.
One day my Mother was listening to the radio (we didn’t have TV at this time). They were advertising Kleenex. I don’t think Kleenex had been out very long. If you could say something very complimentary, you could win a prize. Mother thought, “I don’t know why I couldn’t write something about Kleenex’s as I like them.” So she took the story of the chuck wagon and wrote upon how she used the Kleenex up tending cattle. She wrote from the cowboy’s perspective. She would fry her meat and instead of washing the frying pan she would use the Kleenex to wipe out the grease, and it was good as new. And she used it to dust off things in the camp. She used it to shine her boots, and she used a Kleenex tissue for all sorts of things. She really recommended Kleenex highly.
Well, she sent it in, unbeknownst to anyone else. And she won a radio. What was funny, they sent back her winning letter. When she wrote the entry, she had misspelled almost every other word. Mother couldn’t spell. She was a very poor speller. When questioned, she said, “I purposely misspelled words because I wanted them to think I was a real cowboy.” She didn’t need to try so hard, as she could misspell words on her own. That was her proudest gift of the year – that radio.
She was sharp enough that she wanted to put on the air that she was a hill-billy, but she was one without having to fake it.
I can remember the road in front of mother’s place, being just a mud road. It was highway 89 – a state road, but it was just gravel. I can remember many a many a many a time that total strangers would spend the night in our living room. They had run off the road and had to wait until someone came looking for them, as we didn’t have a telephone. Dad would get his team of horses out a lot, and pull their cars back on the roadway. Grandpa worked on the road crew for extra money when they paved 89.
Our house on the farm was moved to its current location. It was moved from about ten miles away. They put big logs under it and pulled it with a team (or two teams) of horses. The back log would be moved to the front and they moved that home the whole way. They dug a partial cellar underneath the kitchen and put the house on the foundation. If life was easy, it wouldn’t be hard. (laugh)
When Craig and Vicki were going to take ski lessons, Rex and I signed up for classes too. We figured as long as we had to take them up and wait for them, we may as well take classes. We were close to forty. I remember telling my Mom, “Can you believe what we are doing? We can’t afford it.” She said, “Just do it. The time will come when you don’t have any desire and the time will come when you just can’t. Just do it.” This really came as a surprise to me. Mom had always been so frugal – and her telling us to spend money. This was a real eye opener to me – just enjoy life, each year that you are in.
When Rex was in school, I remember wishing, “I’ll be so glad when you are out of school, and we have some money.” But when he got out, we really didn’t make that much anyway and it wasn’t all that different. You can wish your life away. Make something out of each day. Find something
good in each day.
Enjoy each day. Find something pleasant in each day. (At this point she was in tears as she said, “It’s not always that easy to do.”) But if life were easy, it wouldn’t be hard.
I remember a story of you being in the hospital with pneumonia. Your mother told you she loved you – but you hadn’t heard her tell you that before. Am I remembering that story correctly?
Yes. One reason for this, I think, is that she had two children younger than I. I was always the active one. I was never one to stay home much. If I could be out going or doing or out helping Dad with the horses, I would be out. Electa was very much a homebody. She loved to do everything Mom liked. They were very close, like a favorite daughter, if you had one.
My youngest sister had rheumatic fever so Mom babied her a lot. I don’t think they neglected me, I just think they thought I was okay. (Tears.) I remember being so concerned over Kay. Mom would often say to her, “How’s my sweetheart doing?” I wasn’t jealous. I was concerned for her too. It’s just that I had never heard her say those words to me.
I think she just figured I didn’t need it. When I was in the hospital, she came in and said, “Well, how’s my sweetheart today?” It really took me by surprise – me, her sweetheart?
I can remember one time there was something about Electa getting a new dress or something. I remember complaining, “You are always doing for her and not for me.” Mother said, “O’Leah, don’t you envy that sister at all. You’re the one that has the good grades. You’re the one that has all the boyfriends. You’re the one that has the student body office. You’re the one that is the cheerleader.” Electa never dated at all. I didn’t think I was envious of her. I was just complaining. Mother said, “You should not be envious of your sister one thing.”
She said, “You’ve got everything going for you.” It kind of took me back a bit. I guess it was true, but I’d never really thought about it. I think that is just how they looked at me – I was okay. I had good friends. I was Sweetheart queen and girl’s day manager – so I was in a lot of the limelight, but I never really felt like I was in the “in” group. I never really thought, “You’ve got it made.” But you look back and think, “Well, you did – you drip!” I didn’t realize it at the time. You grow up in spite of yourself.
Is there other advice you would give your grandkids? What are things you remember telling us kids? Get out of my pans. Vicki: Get out of my pans? You used to play in my pans. No, I’m just teasing.
One phrase that I’ve said is “This too will pass.” That has been really helpful over the years. When we’ve had illness or things that I’ve thought would never go away, I may not have thought it at the time, but then when things started to improve, I’d think, “Yeah, this too will pass.” And it’s helpful. I’ve said it to many of my friends. They will come up to me later and say, “This is the friend that said, ‘This too will pass.’”
Priscilla Haslam had her daughter (and husband) and four kids (one a new baby) move it with them. They sold their old home faster than they wanted, and just need a place to stay while they built their new one. They stayed with them three to four months. I would go visiting teaching with Priscilla, and every time she would say, “Lee, I don’t know whether I can stand it. It is just so hard. They are sweet, sweet, people but this is just too much.” I would tell her, “Priscilla, just hang on. This too will pass.” Now, they have moved out. Every time Priscilla sees me she says, “You were right. This too will pass. And I kept relations with them. We are still speaking. That is good advice – this too will pass.”
Try new recipes. I think that opens up a whole new cultures, new ideas, and new foods. I just think it keeps you more alert and active and interested in life.
As you can look at me, you can tell I’ve been interested in recipes all my life and I’ve eaten a lot too. I collect cookbooks, and I like cooking shows. I can be as entertained by a cooking show as if it were a drama. If it is real foreign – with ingredients I know I’ll never use – like sea bass – I’m not interested in those. But if ingredients are ones that I recognize, I enjoy it as much as if it were entertainment. I’ve got my favorites, so I don’t watch every cooking show. When they are all dressed up and looking trim and slim, I don’t watch them. They just don’t fit the kitchen. I think, “You don’t know how to cook.” (laugh). When they come all dressed up, a party dress off the shoulder. At least they could put on an apron.
I like to collect dolls. I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t have many as a kid, and I didn’t like dolls. I was more of a tomboy than a doll person. I guess I just like the look of the little porcelain faced Madam Alexander dolls. I started out with international dolls. Then it just grew from there.
My Dad used to teach us to always stick to your word. Your word was your bond. If you were a Lasson, you didn’t need a legal document. The Lasson’s were quite a proud family. She’d say, “Don’t you EVER do anything to cast a shadow on the family name.” Mother always felt she really married up. She would always preach, “Don’t ever to anything to shame the Lasson name. It is a very noble name.” Mother said it more than Dad did. Dad was quiet. Mother did most of the teaching of the family, but they both felt it. If you did something bad, you were disgracing the whole family, not just yourself.
I think all the people around them felt the Lasson’s were pretty uppity. They really weren’t, but they had the self-esteem to carry it off, if you know what I mean. And I didn’t have an Aunt or Uncle that wasn’t just as proud of themselves as they could be and had real high self-esteem. And on my mother’s side, I had Aunts and Uncles that weren’t. One was an alcoholic and others had other problems. They weren’t a real proud people. The Lasson’s were. I guess it came from when they came over from Sweden when they came over. That was a blessed name. They really had a lot of pride it in.
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