If Only - Autobiography of Charles Cash Rampton, Jr. Part 3

"If only."  Two words, when combined are among the most tragic in the English language.  If only I had graduated from high school.  If only I had stayed in better shape.  If only the Lakers didn't lose to the Mavericks.  If only.............  This is the last part of the Autobiography of Charles Cash Rampton, Jr.  And yet, it is largely unfinished.  It ends before he graduated from high school.  It ends before he went on his mission to Eastern Canada.  It ends before he married Grandma.  It ends before any of his employment history.  It ends before.................  I think you get the picture.  At the end of his typed history he hand wrote a list of other things he had intended to write about, but never got around to (or, if he did, I cannot find them.)   Wouldn't we all like to know about his family parties or the time he got kicked out of Primany (all items on his list.)

That, now, is all water under the bridge, having run its course into the sands of eternity.  Maybe in the hereafter he can finish writing what he started.  I, for one, will be one of the first in line to get a copy.

Last thought.........Let us all shun "if only" like the plague.   Start your own personal history.  Start it now or as soon as you can.  It's a great Sunday activity.  Update it frequently.  Who knows, you might need it to get past the angels that guard the gate to Eternal Life.  I'm working on mine!!

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In the summer of 1943 I got a job at the cafeteria on Fort Douglas.  Dad was a

manager all the Walker Bank branch at Fort Douglas.  I can't remember but it must have been him that got me the job along with several of my friends.  We washed dishes and cleaned up at the end of the day.  We were left alone to do the final cleanup and to mop up of the floor.  When the shift was over we always fixed ourselves a large ice cream sundae, a very large one.  No one ever said anything to us about it so we did this on most afternoons.  That was a good job

and helped the war effort.  The next summer I worked at Fort Douglas again in the warehouse.  This was the summer of 1944.  The man I worked with had a 1937 Ford with a dual exhaust muffler system.  He would let me drive it on the base since I was not 16 and could not drive on the city streets.  I really liked the sound all the duel exhaust system with the fiberglass-packed mufflers.  I think I drove around in low gear to hear the muffler roar.  One part of the job that I didn't get anymore was" free" Sundays.

I worked in the summer of 1945 with the United States Geological Survey. We worked around the Huntington, Utah area.  My job was to chop the brush and tree limbs down so that the transit operator could see.  I got blisters on my hands that finally turned into calluses.  I learned how to use an axe and sharpen and take care of it and how to live in the outdoors.  We lived away from home for two or three weeks at a time in the field and some remote areas.  I learned how to use a transit and chain to survey.  We walked over some ground that hadn't been walked on by any other human being.  Once you got the use of a transit you got more money.  At one time we were camping in the canyon near Huntington, Utah.  There was a nice stream in the bottom of the canyon.  It was a good place for us to camp and put up our tents.  In the canyon there were a lot of coal mines. We had heard that some of the coal mine operators were cheating the federal

government.  We were sent there to determine the exact location of the mine entrances and to estimate the amount of coal taken from the mines.  In the daytime there was also in the canyon a crew of workers who were improving the road which carried the trucks to from the mines.  One of the survey crew boys brought a 22 rifle with him on this trip.  Since I was an "expert" with a 22 rifle, I got to shoot it a lot.  At first we shot at tree limbs, than then at rocks, then at small animals and then we got bored.  As we were hiking around the camp we came to a very large rock by the side of the road.  It was obvious that the bulldozer had been trying to move it.  As we looked under the rock, we saw a strange looking box.  When we pulled it out from under the rock, we discovered it was a box filled with dynamite sticks.  We couldn't pass it up so we

took some sticks of dynamite back to camp.  We broke some sticks of dynamite in two and set them by some other large locks.  We then shot at them with the 22 rifle.  They exploded with a large bang when we hit them.  When we had used the sticks we took, we went back for more.  Then we started setting up full sticks of dynamite and shooting at them from a greater distance.  This didn't do seem to disturb anyone in the canyon except our boss.  He made us take the box back with the remaining sticks in it and put it back under the rock. We did it with some

grumbling. The next day we went to work in the canyon. When we came back to camp that night, the cook told us that a big caterpillar tractor had tried to move a large rock near our camp and the rock exploded with so such force that it pushed the bulldozer off the road.  No one knew how that could have happened. We were glad to leave that area soon thereafter.  Evidently the cat operator moved the rock and it crushed the box of dynamite which contained some caps and the whole box or whatever was left of it exploded. We always felt that we did the cat driver a favor by using some of the dynamite before he set off.  That was my last and only experience with a 22 rifle and dynamite.

In the summer of 1946 I again worked for the United States Geological Survey.  This year we spent more time near the Dugway Proving Grounds in Utah. We lived in some abandoned Army barracks.  This was heaven when compared to camping out.  Also it kept most of the snakes away from our sleeping bags.  At night in the distance we could see the flickering lights of the Dugway Camp.  After receiving special approval from the base commander, we got to go there several times to see movie and get treats.  Who would ever have thought that a trip to Dugway would prove to be so exciting.  We were surveying the desert around that section of the state.  It was very barren and dry country.  The section posts or markers were made by placing metal posts in the ground and putting rocks around the marker to make it more visible.  As we would come upon the section markers, we always approached with care because this was a favorite place for rattlesnakes to rest.  We always wore high-top boots and took a shovel as we approached the pile of rocks.  We would throw small rocks to arouse the snakes if there were any in the pile near the marker. After we had located where the snakes were, we would move in with the shovel and cut off their heads.  It was nothing to kill 8 to 10 snakes a day. Some of the crew collected the rattles and took them home.  It was a treasure to find a big one.  When we got back to camp that night, the first thing we did was to check our sleeping bags to see if

there were any snakes in them.  One of our crew who wore very thick glasses forgot to check is sleeping bag one night and put his foot in his sleeping bag to feel a snake wiggling around in the bottom.  It was a very frightening experience for him.  He was lucky it was not a rattler.  Some evenings we would get the government truck which was like a pickup truck and go hunting jackrabbits.  You could see their eyes in the lights of the truck and you could try to shoot them.  We got very good with the use of the 22 rifle.  I once made a lucky shot in camp by shooting at jackrabbits on the move at more than 70 yards.  I was known after that as a sharp shooter.  When we went to pick up the rabbit to use for stew he was filled with ticks and no good for eating.

I had met Lois before leaving for this summer job and looked forward to the few letters she wrote.  After two summers with the United States Geological Survey, I felt l was a seasoned surveyor, camper, hunter, and outdoorsman.  Even my stomach got toughened up as we ate half- spoiled food when we were not able to get any fresh food.  We just cut the mildew off and swallowed it.  You could always tell the food was bad or when it was getting toward the end of the week as the cook would always put a lot of spices in it.  Our boss did not like making

extra trips to town.  It was a long drive most of the time over rough roads.  We discovered an old ghost town on the edge of the desert with no people in it just before it was time to come home.  I have often wondered what happened there.  These two summers were great experiences, but I don't think I would do it again, all except for meeting Lois, the love of my life.

During the summers of 1947 and 48, I worked for the Utah State Road Commission on the construction of Interstate 80 between the state line and Echo Junction near Coalville, Utah.  The mainline of the Union Pacific Railroad ran next to the road construction.  The first summer I worked in a shack right next to the railroad tracks.  The other summer I worked in an office in Coalville.  I traveled each day to Coalville up Parley's Canyon and back. This was before the lower part of I 80 in Parley's Canyon was complete.  It was a challenging drive each day.  I felt that each evening I was returning to Shangri-la and that beautiful valley as I emerged from the canyon.  I worked for an engineer named Valandingham.  The contractors dropped off many gifts for him.  He said he did not know who sent him the gifts and he would have to turn the gifts over to his office at the state capitol.  One of my jobs was to figure cuts and fills over right-of-ways using a hand cranked calculator.  This determined how much the dirt hauling contractors got paid.  Also, if a change was made, the amount of dirt hauled determined the cost of the change.  One time we had a large earth slide which caused large amounts of earth to be moved.  I had to estimate how much this would cost to fix. I did it in record time with a hand calculator.  My boss was very pleased, as I had to go into the field and get the measurements besides making the calculations. The location of the shack in which I worked was very close to location in the canyon where early day settlers stopped Johnson's army from coming into the Salt Lake Valley.  There was one major concrete bridge constructed on the right-of-way in this section.  It was completed first. As the dirt was moved there were several areas with springs that needed to be drained and filled.  All of this was fun for me.  It is fun for me to drive over this section of highway now and know that I had something to do with its construction.  As a side note, there are several train tunnels in that section of highway.  When the Union Pacific Railroad bought new larger turbine engines they would barely fit through the tunnels.  As they went through the turbines would flameout and stop.  There was not enough air in the tunnels to feed the turbine engines and they would stop. The Railroad had to make modifications to allow them to use these new turbine engines on this route.  While surveying the highway location we would stop for a break on the top of a hill overlooking the old highway and watch the cars go by with passengers in all states dress or undress.



Items Grandpa intened to write about, but did not get around to





Charles and Lois at the wedding reciption in Aug 1951 at the Institute Building at the University of Utah




Back Row:  Grandma Ethel, Grandpa Joe Bush, Grandma Blanche, Grandpa Russ, Henry Cameron, Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt Janet, Marion Morse?, Aunt Diane, Aunt Carol, Aunt Beverly.   Front row:  Aunt Maureen, Aunt Gwenie



A Faithful Tithe Payer - the Beginning

Here is part two of the autobiography of Charles Cash Rampton, Jr.  The last paragraph of this part documents the beginning of his life as a full tithe payer.  It was not an easy choice for him, as you will read.  But, he made the right decision and the "Windows of Heaven" continue to bless him to this very day.  Go thou and do likewise.

 I will include a few more pictures at the end.

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A True Story

There were a lot of children around our neighborhood to play with.  Also there

were a lot of neat places to play in.  One was the gully in back of our house and

another was a gully northeast of our house.  We liked to play in the second one and walked by it each day going to and from school.  Years later the Bonneville Stake Center was built in this gully.  A small stream ran in the bottom of it most of the year. One spring the culvert under 15th East got plugged and the water backed up in the gully and formed a large lake.  This may not seem very exciting now but back then to a grade-schooler, it was very exciting.

This second gully seemed to have more mystery than the one in our backyard.

We made underground hideaways in our gully by digging trenches and covering

them with wood from nearby building projects and putting the dirt back over the

top to hide them.  The longer the entrance tunnel, the better the underground hut

was.  The second gully was farther away from home and had lots of scrub oak

groves to use as hiding places.  The neighbors near the gully had the city build

two walkways on each side of the gully for easy access.

I can remember one experience that happened when I was about 10 years old.

There were two brothers who had a 22 rifle.  We wanted to shoot it.  Because it

made a loud sound when it was fired, we decided if we shot it in the garage no one would notice.  So we went into their garage and shut the doors.  The garage was next to an alley that ran parallel to Hubbard Avenue.  We obtained 22 short

caliber bullets and commenced shooting in the garage.  We were having a good

time and became bored with shooting in the garage.  We left and went to the

gully with more mystery and began to shoot again not wondering where the

bullets for going.  This caught the neighbors' attention and soon we could see the

police coming on the newly made pathways.  I ran one-way and my friends ran

on the other side.  I got to my bike ahead of my friends and the police.  I went

home and felt safe.  About 30 minutes later, a knock came at the door. It was the

police.  He wanted to know if I was there.  He talked with Dad for a few minutes

and explained what he was there for. He told Dad he wanted to take me to jail.

Dad talked to him and convinced him not to take me.  He told Dad he caught the

other boys and was taking them to the police station.  They told him where I

lived.  He told Dad the dinning room of the neighbor who lived across the alley

from my friends was filled with bullet holes and he was very mad but he did not

know where they came from.  I knew where they came from.  The bullets were

going through the target, through the garage's wood siding, through doors of his dining room, and into his house.  When the people who lived near the gully called about the shooting, the police knew right where to look for the shooters.  The other boys spent the night at the police station.  Thank heavens that my dad was a pretty good talker and I got to stay home.

We had fun shooting, followed by the terror of running away from the police,

followed I by the relief of getting away and home, followed by the fear from the

knock on our door and followed by the comfort that came as a result of my dad's

efforts on my behalf.  From then on I thought more about my actions and what

effect they might have on others.  I am very thankful for a good dad, who would

and could fix my problems.

Mom and dad always had jobs for me to do around the house on 15th East.  I can remember raking the fall leaves into piles and putting them in the garbage or

raking them into the gutter area in front of our house.  When they were in big

piles it was fun to jump or fall into them.  On some fall Saturdays I could hear the

crowd noise from the University of Utah football stadium.  The announcers and crowd noise made me want to be there and see the game.  lf there was a

whole in the fence or an unguarded location we could get in for free and spend

our money on treats.  Mother would plant tulips early in the spring and we never

seemed to know if they were going to grow or be frozen by the snow. There was the gully at the back of our house and our property line went down the gully slope

quite a ways.  I never did no how far back our property line went. Our next door

neighbors, the McAllister's, had some animal cages at the very bottom of the gully as did our other neighbors.  It was always a problem to know how far back the yard had to be cleaned.  Mom always wanted me to do a little bit further down

the slope.  On the other side of the gully the slope was quite steep. We liked to

make "marble runs".  We would try to make a track which would zig and zag

down the slope with jumps, turns and tunnels.  We would put a marble at the top

and see if we could get it to go to the bottom and stay in the track.  Also in our

back yard was a spot of dirt we thought of us as a sandbox.  We would build

roads and tunnels to play with our toys.  It was near the back corner of the

garage and under an old apple tree.  The apples were always very tart to eat.

Near the rear corner of the house in the backyard was an old cherry tree.  It was

so large it overhung the house. We climbed that tree so much that the bark was

polished red by our touching it.  We had a hard time waiting for the cherries to

become ripe before we ate them.  They were the best cherries, even though they

were usually half ripe.  Also on the side of the backyard next to the Jorgensen's

were some very large lilac bushes. Most of the time they had a few blossoms.

But near Memorial Day, I can remember our parents picking them and taking

them to decorate our family graves.  All of this had to be cared for.

I can remember someone gave Janet and I a printing set.  This consisted of

some rubber stamps and an ink pad.  We set about to print a neighborhood

newspaper. For some reason this sticks in my mind as an important event.

The floor of our single story House was about three to four feet above the

exterior grade.  This allowed for large basement windows that could swing

horizontally to open and were easily climbed in and out of.  This made our

basement a light and airy place where we could hang our wet cloths in to dry on a winter day. Also in the basement was "fruit room", in which we stored the jams and jellies along with the peaches and pears mother had put up.  This was also of fun room to play in.  Also in the basement was a finished rumpus room which later became my bedroom.  I always thought it was a strange bedroom because no one ever made the bed.  On the floor in that room I had my Lionel and American Flyer trains set up.  I would cover the floor of the rumpus room/bedroom with their tracks.  I guess that's where I learned to love trains.

Summer Jobs

Shortly after mom and dad got divorced in 1941, I got my first job outside the

home.  I was about twelve years old and worked at the American Paper Company in Salt Lake City.  It was a company that was partly owned by my dad.  One of the big things I had to do was to get my Social Security number. I felt pretty important.  My main job was sweeping up the warehouse floor.  I sprinkled the compound on the floor and then swept it up again.  Later I got to do other things.  The thing I liked best to do was going on the delivery truck to all of our

customers.  One time when we were going south on State Street,  it was

raining quite hard and then all of a sudden it stopped. There was a line across the street, one side was wet the other was dry.  This impressed me very much. Later I got to fill some of the orders when I knew where all the stock was.  When it came time to get my first paycheck, I was going to spend it.  Mother said to me "Are you going to pay your tithing?"  Later Dad asked me what I was going to do with my money.  I told them I was going to pay my tithing.  This upset him very much. He said to me, "Why don't you save your money in the bank?"  He said the church didn't need my money especially when I was twelve years old.  He and mother had some heated words over the matter.  In the end it was left up to me. It was a big decision for me for two reasons.  I had to choose between Dad's advice and Mother's suggestion.  When I chose to pay my tithing, Dad was disappointed.  I did put some money in the bank but it didn't seem to make him feel any better.  But I know now that I made the right choice.  It took quite a while for Dad to get over that.  I have been a full tithe payer ever since.  It was one of those choices you only have to make once in your life.  It is good to start early in your life to make right choices.  I worked at the paper company until the summer of 1943.

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Next week will be the third and final part.  Check out these photos



Age 4 with sister Janet





Age 12 with sister Janet  (pretty classy dresser)

  

Age 13 with sister Janet and Grammie (Wilda Cash Rampton)





Age 16 (in center) on first date with Grandma (Lois Fae Linnebach) - what kind of car is that?