Recollections of my Grandfather, Charles Cash Rampton

  

My Grandfather (we never called him Grandpa, it was always Grandfather) was extremely proud of his names: Rampton from his father, Charles Hyrum Rampton, and Cash from his mother, Wilda Cash.  He was born in Bountiful, Utah in1901 but lived all his adult life in Salt Lake City.  And that is where my earliest recollections of him begin.  My family lived there until I was five years old when we moved to Southern California.  I have vivid memories of Sunday dinners at his house on Virginia Ave.  There was a big dining room with a long table which I could not reach if I sat on a chair.  But, a large unabridged dictionary placed on the seat of the chair boosted me high enough so I could access the plate. 

After we moved to California we would come back to Salt Lake City every year for vacation;  and I do mean every year from when I was five until I went on my mission to Japan.  One of the things I looked forward to the most was visiting him at his office at Walker Bank where he was a vice-president.  He always had great bank souvenirs that he would give us each time we visited.  I still have one of them today, a small bank in the shape of a book.  There is something inside, but I have no idea where the key is today. 

I always thought is was great that he worked in a bank and had the name, Cash.  That is the name he went by his adult life.  He began working for Walker Bank in his early twenties and retired as Senior Vice-president after 41 years of service. 

Grandfather, and my step-grandmother, Virginia loved to travel, many times going on world cruises that departed from the Port of Los Angeles.  Our family would always go visit them on the ship before they departed.  For some reason, my younger brother, Richard, and I always had to dress up in Sunday clothes for the visits.  In my pre-teen and teen years I collected stamps and always enjoyed the ones they sent me back from their many destinations.

In 1970 I entered Brigham Young University in Provo.  Once a month he would drive down from Salt Lake City and take me to dinner. The first time was at the restaurant of a local hotel not to far off of campus.  I don't know the reason why, but at the end of dinner he left a larger than usual tip for the waitress which she did not forget.  Sometime later, I took a date there and was given the royal treatment by the same waitress, free dessert.  That was a big deal for a college freshman, trying to impress his date.

One Sunday he stopped in on campus at the house of the President of the University, Ernest Wilkinson and introduced him to me.  They had been friends for many years.

 Grandfather Cash (that's what we called him) was never very active in the church, especially after he and my Grandma Blanch divorced when my Dad was in his early teens.  But he was still supportive of me going on a mission.  I enjoyed the few letters he sent me in Japan. They were always encouraging.  So it was with some interest that just a few years ago I found the letters he sent my Dad on his mission in Canada.  The content is precious.  He never handwrote the letters, rather he would dictate them to his secretary.  She would type them on Walk Bank stationary; he would sign them; enclose the monthly check and put them in the mail.  It was in these letters that I learned that he did not approve of my mother-to-be, Lois Fae Linnebach.  He felt my Dad should finish his education before getting married.  (My Mom, apparently, had their wedding all planned out before my Dad finished his two years in Eastern Canada.  They were married two months after he got home.)

When I returned to BYU after my mission he would frequently invite me to lunch at the Alta Club in Salt Lake City, of which he was a member.  I always wondered why all the women went in a different door than the men; but apparently that was the custom.  The women congregated in one part of the club and the men in the other.  This is where I had my first "Shirley Temple."  Later we all met in the dining room.   It was a great lunch.  At the end Virginia got up to go to the ladies room and Grandfather went to speak to Senator Jake Garn.  While I was sitting at the table by myself, the waiter brought a small silver goblet filled with water to each seat.  I had no idea what I was suppose to do with it, so I drank it.  Grandfather saw me do it and started to laugh.  He later told me that was a fingerbowl in which I was suppose to rinse my hands off.  I was indeed embarrassed. 

In the early 1970's Grandfather moved from his house on Virginia Ave to a fancy apartment/condominium building on North Temple in Salt Lake City.  My Dad loves to tell the story of how he and Grandfather were riding in the elevator down to the parking area when President Ezra Taft Benson got on with them.  Per my Dad, President Benson said, "Cash, you could have been a great mission president."

But instead, Grandfather Cash chose to devote much of his time to public service.  His list of public positions included President of the Salt Lake Chapter of the American Institute of Banking, Chairman of the Salt Lake County American Red Cross, President of the Salt Lake Chamber of Commerce, Chairman of the Utah Commission for the Hoover Report, Member of the Board of Trustees to Administer the Utah Public Employees Retirement System, Chairman of the Civil Service Commission, Member of the Salt Lake City Planning and Zoning Commission, Member of the City Board of Adjustments, Member of the Federal Jury Commission (appointed by Judge Willis Ritter),and Co-Chairman of the Citizens Advisory Commission on Airport Improvements at Salt Lake City International Airport. My Dad would always tell us that the expansion of Salt Lake International Airport to its current status was in part due to Grandfather's vision of the future.  We always considered him the second most famous Rampton politician in the family, behind Governor Calvin Rampton.  That is before we learned that the husband of his half-sister, Amanda, was Charles Rendell Mabey, also a governor of the State of Utah.  So maybe he moved down the list one notch.

In 1952 he was a candidate for the United States Senate seat from Utah.  That was the same year that as President of the Salt Lake City Chamber of Commerce he spoke at the Golden Jubilee dinner at the Hotel Utah along with President David O. McKay and Irving S. Olds, Chairman of the Board of United States Steel Corporation.  When my Dad graduated from the University of Utah in 1957 with a Masters Degree in Civil Engineering, his first job was with United States Steel.  I wonder if Grandfathers connections had anything to do with it?

After retirement, Grandfather and Virginia would spend many of their winters here in Southern California, either in Palm Springs or San Diego.  I always questioned the safety of two seventy year olds making the 700 mile drive from Utah to California in their Chevrolet Caprice Classic (which my Dad inherited, was stolen after several years and used in several bank robberies before being recovered.)  It was always fun to go visit them in their resort-like surroundings.  By this time Grandfather's opinion of my Mother had changed 180 degrees.  He would always tell her that my Dad could not have done any better than her for a wife.  But she still was always a little intimidated by him.

In December of 1991 I was saddened to learn that Grandfather had passed away, just before his 90th birthday.  I was honored to be asked by my Dad and Aunt Janet to deliver the eulogy at his funeral.  Governor Calvin Rampton was the other speaker.  He was later buried at Mt. Olivet Cemetery in a family plot he had purchased years earlier.  Today, my baby sister and mother are buried there along with Virginia and my Uncle Judd.  The two remaining plots are for my Dad and Aunt Janet.  It was important to Grandfather for the family to be close in life and death.

Grandfather especially loved my oldest son David, born in 1983, probably because David's middle name is Cash.  When David was an infant Grandfather would send him letters and David would reply (via his mother.)  In one of the letters Grandfather included this poem that way very dear to him:

YOUR NAME

You got it from your father

It was all he had to give.

So it’s yours to use and cherish

For as long as you may live.

If you lose the watch he gave you

It can always be replaced.

But a black mark on your name,

Son can never be erased.

It was clean the day you took it

And a worthy name to bear.

When he got it from his father

There was no dishonor there.

So make sure you guard it wisely

After all is said and done.

You’ll be glad the name is spotless

When you give it to your son.

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