The Dog Named Jack

I like the poem about crows that Elder Packer quoted in his General Conference talk yesterday.  It is called "About Crows" by John Ciardi:

The old crow is getting slow;
the young crow is not.
Of what the young crow does not know,
the old crow knows a lot.

At knowing things, the old crow is still
the young crow’s master.
What does the old crow not know?
How to go faster.

The young crow flies above, below, and rings
around the slow old crow.
What does the fast young crow not know?
WHERE TO GO.

To me, this poem is about the value of experience, the value of history, and the value of things that have gone on before us.  In part, that is why I am writing this blog.....so that you will be able to learn about the past.  And in doing so, hopefully your future will be brighter.  When you get the chance, read Elder Bednar's talk from yesterday's conference session and then ask yourself "How does his message affect me?"

I thought I would write some more about Grandpa Joe Bush (Arthur Phillip Linnebach.)  Did you know that in the older neighborhoods of Salt Lake City, probably 75% of all the curbs and gutters were constructed by his company, A.P. Linnebach Construction.  I'll have to ask Uncle Glen since I do not know if he started that company on his own or if he took over his father's (George Adam Linnebach) company when he retired.  Nevertheless, it was a good business and he was finally able to provide a comfortable living for his family....Grandma (Lois Fae Linnebach) no longer had to pluck the feathers off the chickens that Glen had decapitated.

I mentioned last week that Grandpa Joe Bush was not active in the church, but he supported his family going to church.  Also,  Grandma told me a story of how one winter when there was no cement work because of the cold that he and his men built a new church building for their ward.  All the ward had to provide was the materials.  He paid his men for their time.  That was back in a time when ward members had to pay for their own buildings.  I still have fond and vivid memories of Grandma Ethel's and Grandpa Joe Bush's house on 27th South in Salt Lake City.  In the back yard was a huge (or at least it seemed huge then) shed/garage where he kept all his construction equipment.  It was great fun to go in there and climb all over the tractors and back-hoes.   Next to the shed was his aviary where he kept his parakeets, dozens of them.  I'll never forget the time he was walking inside the cage (it was as big as my living room) and one of the birds pooped on his head and he didn't even know it.  It was great fun telling him and seeing his reaction.....which was in German.

Another of my most cherished memories of Grandpa Joe Bush was his cabin east of Salt Lake City up in the mountains.  It always seemed like such a long drive to get there, but when you are ten, anything over a half hour seems like a long time.  It was a great place, big enough for all the aunts, uncles and cousins to visit at the same time.  No radio, no TV, no computer.  The nightly entertainment was always provided by Grandpa Joe Bush on his accordion.  This is where all the Linnebach grandchildren learned the song about the dog named Jack.  Nearby the cabin was a lake with a beaver pond.  It was great fun to hike up the trail and catch frogs, big ones.  This was also the place I learned to fish which was a favorite activity of the family.  Grandpa Joe Bush had his special rod and reel, but he always brought extras for the grandkids.  One day he rigged me up a special line, special in that the end the line forked into two separate lines, each with its own hook.  Grandpa Joe Bush put worms on both hooks and cast the line out near the logs the beavers had cut down.  The rainbow trout liked to hang out in the shade under the logs.  Then he gave the rod and reel to me.  I don't know how long it was but when I felt the little tug on the line I jerked the pole back....I had one on the hook.  It felt like a big one.  I reeled and reeled til finally the fish was near the shore.  But to my and everyone else's surprise, I didn't have one big fish; I had two fish, one on each line.  No fish story!!!   The only bad thing about catching a fish was having to clean it.  Yuck.

When I was in the 4th or 5th grade Grandma Ethel and Grandpa Joe Bush built a new house way out in the country (at least in the 1960's it was in the country) on 80th South in Sandy, Utah.  They had a huge lot,  big front yard, bigger back yard, 2000 square foot aviary, and even a horse pasture all the way in the back.  The aviary was world famous.  People from all over the world would come to see his pheasants and peacocks and study his breeding techniques.

Let me close with part of the eulogy that my Uncle Cece delivered at Grandpa Joe Bush's funeral in 1969.

"We should all be aware of what the Lord taught and expressed about the Eternal Plan for man and his family. The importance of the family and the unity, therein, is expressed by President McKay when he stated “No success in Life compensates for failure in the home”… Of all the beautiful and wonderful tributes given about Art today, the most outstanding would be his ability and desire to unify his family and keep them close to him. He loved to go fishing and hunting and wherever Art went, Ethel, the Girls and Boys, and many of their friends would go with them. I remember many of those special trips with the family and I know that many of you have gone with them also.

"For almost half of my live I have known Art, and during that time I had never met a man who gained Respect and Love without demanding it, as Art did. He loved life and only took out of it what he was able to put back, and that was a great deal of joy and satisfaction that he shared with others. He had a sense of accomplishment and succeeded in doing many satisfying things. He loved a challenge and met each one with a determination to succeed.

"Art loved to build, and he built and constructed many things...Homes to sell, Apartments to rent, and Boats. He built a lovely, large cabin in the mountains so he and his family and friends could go too and enjoy the beauties of nature & of God.  Art wasn’t a steady church going person but be made sure his children attended their meetings. A more Christian person, I will probably never have the privilege of knowing.

"His love for boats enabled him to construct and race boats. He entered many races and won several with ones he had constructed himself, and at these races would be his family cheering him on.

"Art was a good provider and made sure there was always food on the table. He was a stern father and each one of the family knew he was the master of his house. He didn’t say too much to me when I was courting his daughter, but I knew there were certain rules of the house also, and since I came from a small family I had to learn some of the rules of a large one and one of these rules was that at the dinner table you had better take what you wanted the first time because there wasn’t a second chance.

"Art loved family get-togethers and if they weren’t moving fast enough or weren’t joyful enough, out would come the good old squeezebox and toe taping, music, and songs would soon follow. This usually led Art into teaching the grandchildren new songs to sing. One of the good old favorites was the old Sow Song which the grandchildren loved to hear Art sing and act out. There was another one which we won’t mention, but it was a family joke song, that usually brought a reprimand from one of the daughters.

Art loved music and had a keen ear for pitch and tone, he enjoyed harmonizing with his girls and boys and with his son-in-laws and anyone else who wanted to sing. He loved to listen to barber shop music and Quartets. One of his favorite songs was Nearer My God to Thee.” (end of eulogy)

One last thought.  On December 24, 1969 Grandpa Joe Bush lay in a hospital bed, the only time in his life he was ever sick.  Lung cancer had ravaged his body and the end was near.  The pain medication caused him to come in and out of consciousness.  Late in the afternoon he awoke for one last time, raised his head and focused on an upper corner in the room.  His last words were, "Daddy."  He then closed his eyes and his immortal soul left his cancer-ravaged body to be with loved ones who had come to bring him home.  And probably a short time later the family all sang:

There was an old dog and his name was Jack

And he pooped all over the railroad track.

Then the train came by and the poop flew high

And it hit the conductor square in the eye.



The Hunter




Grandma Ethel, Grandpa Joe Bush, Lori Gritton, Jimmy Rampton