A major winter storm hit the Mountain West the day we left Utah to drive to Idaho Falls for Grandpa Batt's funeral. We had been in Utah attending the funeral for my dad's brother Wayne, who had died the same week as Grandpa. The driving was treacherous, and in the blizzard we slid off the road and got stuck near the county line between Weber and Box Elder counties.
Grandpa's funeral was a full ten days after his death. He and Grandma had been serving a mission in New England. I don't specifically remember their mission call, but I would have been only seven then. Their mission president had asked them to extend their mission for a couple more months. They had just sent him the letter saying yes, they'd stay, they would be happy to serve an extra two months.
The Lord had other plans, however, and on the morning of the day they originally would have been released, Grandpa passed away quietly in his sleep. No pain. No sickness. His mission was up, and he was transferred to the other side. What a way to go, I thought, serving the Master he must have known and loved so well.
According to the revelations, Grandpa was transferred instead to labor in the spirit world. "I beheld," wrote President Joseph F. Smith in his vision of the redemption of the dead, "that the faithful elders of this dispensation, when they depart from mortal life, continue their labors in the preaching of the gospel of repentance and redemption, through the sacrifice of the Only Begotten Son of God, among those who are in darkness and under the bondage of sin in the great world of the spirits of the dead" (D&C 138:57).
Grandma was left alone in a strange part of the country, and her son Bill had to get back to New England and make arrangements and get her and the body back to Idaho—and all that took time. It must have been a long, lonely trip for Grandma from Rutland, Vermont, back to Ucon, Idaho.
The funeral was in Ucon in the ward from which they had left to go on their mission. One of Grandpa's favorite hymns (and since then one of my favorites) was sung that day:
Israel, Israel, God is calling,
Calling thee from lands of woe.
Babylon the great is falling;
God shall all her tow’rs o’erthrow.
Come to Zion, come to Zion
Ere his floods of anger flow.
Come to Zion, come to Zion
Ere his floods of anger flow.
Israel, Israel, God is speaking.
Hear your great Deliv'rer's voice!
Now a glorious morn is breaking
For the people of his choice.
Come to Zion, come to Zion,
And within her walls rejoice.
Come to Zion, come to Zion,
And within her walls rejoice.
Israel, angels are descending
From celestial worlds on high,
And to man their pow’r extending,
That the Saints may homeward fly.
Come to Zion, come to Zion,
For your coming Lord is nigh.
Come to Zion, come to Zion,
For your coming Lord is nigh.
Israel! Israel! Canst thou linger
Still in error’s gloomy ways?
Mark how judgment's pointing finger
Justifies no vain delays.
Come to Zion, come to Zion!
Zion’s walls shall ring with praise.
Come to Zion, come to Zion!
Zion’s walls shall ring with praise.
It was a cold, grey day at the Ucon Cemetery. The finality of it all finally hit me as I watched the casket being lowered into that dark hole in the frozen ground, and I began to cry.
I loved my grandparents. We used to visit them in their farm home in eastern Idaho before their mission. The picture that comes hazily to mind is like a Currier and Ives winter scene, where inside a warm old farmhouse there was plenty of love, the kind little boys thrive on. I'm sure we went there other than during the winter, but that's what I remember: snow over everything, the fields and roads, the mailboxes and fence posts, the houses and barns, with windows steamed and icy from cooking in the old big kitchen.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
My first memories of death
The first week of February 1959 we received two long-distance phone calls: Grandpa Batt had died in the mission field in New England, and Uncle Wayne had died of cancer in Utah. In those days a long-distance call usually meant something about that drastic had happened. To the day she died in 1982 my mother could never feel comfortable making a long-distance call just to chat casually with someone.
Uncle Wayne was my dad's brother, who years earlier had lost his arm in a car accident. He had always been a convenient object lesson for Mom when she'd tell us to keep our arms and heads inside a moving car so we wouldn't lose them like Uncle Wayne had.
Apparently Wayne's death had been fairly sudden. He was only thirty-nine years old and had learned just a few weeks earlier that he had cancer. By the time he died, he had lost a lot of weight and was a mere shadow of his former self.
When my own father died in 1988, his sister Donna told me a story about Wayne's death back in 1959 that I had never heard in the family before:
Donna's husband Dean dreamed one night that he saw a council being held in the spirit world. A number of people were present, including Wayne's parents (my grandparents, whom I had never known), and they were trying to decide which family member to call home. Alvin was the obvious choice because he had just had a stroke, and people were expecting him to die, but as the council deliberated further, they felt that more good could be accomplished for the family here and more of them activated in the Church if Wayne were called back. Such was the council's decision, and a week later Wayne found out he had cancer.
Donna also told me that at about the same time the dream occurred she or someone in the family met some long-time friends of the family who inquired about Wayne.
"Why do you ask?" she wondered.
And they said, "We were working in the Logan Temple, and your parents visited us there and said that Wayne would be joining them soon." Her parents, my grandparents [Henry William Cleverly and Olive Ellen Ritchie], had been dead for four years and fourteen years respectively.
We drove to Utah for Wayne's funeral, and the following Sunday my dad, who himself was not always active during this period, took his brother Marvin to church. On Sunday, February 8, 1959, my mother recorded in her diary: "Ivard talked Marv into going to Priesthood, first time since he was a little kid, so he went at 8:45 & took him to Orchard [Ward]."
That simple act resulted in profound changes in Marvin and Lorraine's family, just as the family council in the spirit world had intended. By the following year Uncle Marv and Aunt Lorraine had returned to activity and were sealed in the temple. Not only he but his entire family was rescued. Years later one of Marv and Lorraine's sons, Brent Cleverly, served as a stake president in Woods Cross. One of their daughters, Lee Ann Sargent, was married to a bishop who served in our stake in Bountiful. Who knows the end of good that came from the simple decision in an hour of mourning to invite someone back to church.
Uncle Alvin, who had suffered a stroke, lived for another twenty years or so. Aunt Stella also became active about this time.
Uncle Wayne was my dad's brother, who years earlier had lost his arm in a car accident. He had always been a convenient object lesson for Mom when she'd tell us to keep our arms and heads inside a moving car so we wouldn't lose them like Uncle Wayne had.
Apparently Wayne's death had been fairly sudden. He was only thirty-nine years old and had learned just a few weeks earlier that he had cancer. By the time he died, he had lost a lot of weight and was a mere shadow of his former self.
When my own father died in 1988, his sister Donna told me a story about Wayne's death back in 1959 that I had never heard in the family before:
Donna's husband Dean dreamed one night that he saw a council being held in the spirit world. A number of people were present, including Wayne's parents (my grandparents, whom I had never known), and they were trying to decide which family member to call home. Alvin was the obvious choice because he had just had a stroke, and people were expecting him to die, but as the council deliberated further, they felt that more good could be accomplished for the family here and more of them activated in the Church if Wayne were called back. Such was the council's decision, and a week later Wayne found out he had cancer.
Donna also told me that at about the same time the dream occurred she or someone in the family met some long-time friends of the family who inquired about Wayne.
"Why do you ask?" she wondered.
And they said, "We were working in the Logan Temple, and your parents visited us there and said that Wayne would be joining them soon." Her parents, my grandparents [Henry William Cleverly and Olive Ellen Ritchie], had been dead for four years and fourteen years respectively.
We drove to Utah for Wayne's funeral, and the following Sunday my dad, who himself was not always active during this period, took his brother Marvin to church. On Sunday, February 8, 1959, my mother recorded in her diary: "Ivard talked Marv into going to Priesthood, first time since he was a little kid, so he went at 8:45 & took him to Orchard [Ward]."
That simple act resulted in profound changes in Marvin and Lorraine's family, just as the family council in the spirit world had intended. By the following year Uncle Marv and Aunt Lorraine had returned to activity and were sealed in the temple. Not only he but his entire family was rescued. Years later one of Marv and Lorraine's sons, Brent Cleverly, served as a stake president in Woods Cross. One of their daughters, Lee Ann Sargent, was married to a bishop who served in our stake in Bountiful. Who knows the end of good that came from the simple decision in an hour of mourning to invite someone back to church.
Uncle Alvin, who had suffered a stroke, lived for another twenty years or so. Aunt Stella also became active about this time.
Friday, June 26, 2009
The miracle of springtime in January
We had just completed the dedication of the Bountiful Utah Temple. Because the first Sunday of January 1995 had been New Year's Day, and the second Sunday the temple dedication, our stake chose to have fast Sunday that month on the third Sunday.
Brother Wayne Beck, a member of our ward in Bountiful, called attention in fast and testimony meeting to an obvious miracle we had all witnessed that week. He called it "The Miracle of Springtime in January," the remarkable January thaw we witnessed throughout the week during the 28 dedicatory sessions of the Bountiful Temple.
The weather forecasters just days before the dedication began were telling us that these middle two weeks of January are the coldest part of the year in Utah. And so we basked in the near-sixty-degree afternoon temperatures and enjoyed nighttime lows that were warmer than the daytime highs were supposed to have been. The grass was turning green, and pansies and crocuses were poking up.
Meanwhile the West Coast, particularly California, was being battered with storm after storm that, after wrecking havoc there, should normally have come east to Utah. Instead, the storms went north and south of the Wasatch Front and left us with mild, mostly dry weather all week.
The dedication—attended by more than 201,000 people—ended Saturday night at six o'clock. Saturday evening it started raining, and sometime during the night it started snowing and continued with a wet, heavy snow much of Sunday and beyond.
Those who see the world through the eyes of faith—those who, as the Lord defined it, have a "knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come" (D&C 93:24)—see these favorable weather patterns as more than simple coincidence. Rather, we see them as the Lord's divine approbation, His obvious approval and acceptance of this new House of the Lord that we have built and dedicated to His holy name and to His eternal purposes in the salvation of both living and dead.
Brother Wayne Beck, a member of our ward in Bountiful, called attention in fast and testimony meeting to an obvious miracle we had all witnessed that week. He called it "The Miracle of Springtime in January," the remarkable January thaw we witnessed throughout the week during the 28 dedicatory sessions of the Bountiful Temple.
The weather forecasters just days before the dedication began were telling us that these middle two weeks of January are the coldest part of the year in Utah. And so we basked in the near-sixty-degree afternoon temperatures and enjoyed nighttime lows that were warmer than the daytime highs were supposed to have been. The grass was turning green, and pansies and crocuses were poking up.
Meanwhile the West Coast, particularly California, was being battered with storm after storm that, after wrecking havoc there, should normally have come east to Utah. Instead, the storms went north and south of the Wasatch Front and left us with mild, mostly dry weather all week.
The dedication—attended by more than 201,000 people—ended Saturday night at six o'clock. Saturday evening it started raining, and sometime during the night it started snowing and continued with a wet, heavy snow much of Sunday and beyond.
Those who see the world through the eyes of faith—those who, as the Lord defined it, have a "knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come" (D&C 93:24)—see these favorable weather patterns as more than simple coincidence. Rather, we see them as the Lord's divine approbation, His obvious approval and acceptance of this new House of the Lord that we have built and dedicated to His holy name and to His eternal purposes in the salvation of both living and dead.
Friday, June 19, 2009
You can't write down the way you feel
Our family attended the dedication of the Bountiful Utah Temple on Sunday afternoon, January 8, 1995. After we returned home, our eleven-year-old daughter Eliza wrote in her journal about her experience in the temple. Near the end of her sweet entry, with wisdom beyond her years, she wrote: "You can't write down the way you feel."
That’s the way I felt in trying to place on paper anything that remotely described the sacred experience we had that Sabbath afternoon inside the House of the Lord.
The Bountiful Temple had been announced five years earlier—in February 1990—by President Ezra Taft Benson as the 47th operating temple in the Church. We were thrilled at the announcement of a temple in our very own Bountiful. We lived, after all, only eight miles from the Salt Lake Temple. But now the stakes of southern Davis County would have a temple of their own. I wondered if my parents and my grandparents and others who had gone on before who had lived in this area were similarly rejoicing from their side of the veil.
Claudia and I, together with each of the children, contributed financially toward its construction. We eagerly watched its progress as it rose on the mountainside above our home. And we attended the public open house that was held in November and December of 1994.
And now the temple was ready for dedication. President Howard W. Hunter was the President of the Church, and this was the second of two temples he would dedicate during his short tenure as our Prophet. He dedicated the Orlando Florida Temple in October 1994. The Bountiful Temple was being dedicated in 28 dedicatory sessions—one for each of the 28 stakes in the temple district—beginning on Sunday, January 8, 1995, and concluding the following Saturday, January 14. Four sessions a day spread over a week’s period of time. Our stake was assigned the third dedicatory session.
Our stake president, F. Michael Watson, who happened to serve as secretary to the First Presidency, had very kindly arranged for us to receive tickets to be in the celestial room. Being in that room, in the presence of the Prophet and his counselors, was incredible, but it occurred to us afterward that we could actually have seen the speakers better on one of the TV monitors in another room in the temple.
President Gordon B. Hinckley conducted the session for our stake. A choir from the stake sang "The Morning Breaks" as the opening hymn. Rex Christensen, our stake patriarch, gave the opening prayer. The choir then sang "Sweet Is the Work."
Elder Neal A. Maxwell, of the Quorum of the Twelve, spoke about the temple in the land Bountiful described in the Book of Mormon and mentioned the third volume of scripture that someday we will have from the Lost Tribes to join the witness of the Bible and the Book of Mormon.
President Thomas S. Monson then spoke, followed by another number by the choir, "Song of Praise." We all felt that the strength and beauty of the music was far beyond what a group of singers of that size could be producing and wondered if heavenly choirs were filling in also.
President Hinckley in his address mentioned that he had participated in the dedication or rededication of all but five of the currently operating temples.
President Howard W. Hunter spoke of how temples are like corrective lenses: they allow us to see the things of eternity clearly.
President Monson then read the dedicatory prayer that President Hunter had offered in the morning session. Michael and Shauna had attended that session with Shauna's family. Michael and Shauna were engaged at the time and would be married in this temple three months later. (Michael, incidentally, was the only one of our children old enough to attend the dedication of the Jordan River Temple back in November 1981, just a couple months after he turned eight.)
Elder Maxwell explained and then led us in the Hosanna Shout, followed by the emotional climax when the choir sang the "Hosanna Anthem" (written by Evan Stephens for the dedication of the Salt Lake Temple) and the congregation joined in with "The Spirit of God" (written by William W. Phelps for the dedication of the Kirtland Temple). Gerald N. Wray, our former stake president, gave the closing prayer.
Eliza wrote in her journal concerning the music, "It was so beutiful. It sounded like the tabranackle choir. It gave me goosebumps. It sound like tryumphint Angels singing. It made me feel so happy!!!"
After that entry is when she recorded, "You can't write down the way you feel."
That’s the way I felt in trying to place on paper anything that remotely described the sacred experience we had that Sabbath afternoon inside the House of the Lord.
The Bountiful Temple had been announced five years earlier—in February 1990—by President Ezra Taft Benson as the 47th operating temple in the Church. We were thrilled at the announcement of a temple in our very own Bountiful. We lived, after all, only eight miles from the Salt Lake Temple. But now the stakes of southern Davis County would have a temple of their own. I wondered if my parents and my grandparents and others who had gone on before who had lived in this area were similarly rejoicing from their side of the veil.
Claudia and I, together with each of the children, contributed financially toward its construction. We eagerly watched its progress as it rose on the mountainside above our home. And we attended the public open house that was held in November and December of 1994.
And now the temple was ready for dedication. President Howard W. Hunter was the President of the Church, and this was the second of two temples he would dedicate during his short tenure as our Prophet. He dedicated the Orlando Florida Temple in October 1994. The Bountiful Temple was being dedicated in 28 dedicatory sessions—one for each of the 28 stakes in the temple district—beginning on Sunday, January 8, 1995, and concluding the following Saturday, January 14. Four sessions a day spread over a week’s period of time. Our stake was assigned the third dedicatory session.
Our stake president, F. Michael Watson, who happened to serve as secretary to the First Presidency, had very kindly arranged for us to receive tickets to be in the celestial room. Being in that room, in the presence of the Prophet and his counselors, was incredible, but it occurred to us afterward that we could actually have seen the speakers better on one of the TV monitors in another room in the temple.
President Gordon B. Hinckley conducted the session for our stake. A choir from the stake sang "The Morning Breaks" as the opening hymn. Rex Christensen, our stake patriarch, gave the opening prayer. The choir then sang "Sweet Is the Work."
Elder Neal A. Maxwell, of the Quorum of the Twelve, spoke about the temple in the land Bountiful described in the Book of Mormon and mentioned the third volume of scripture that someday we will have from the Lost Tribes to join the witness of the Bible and the Book of Mormon.
President Thomas S. Monson then spoke, followed by another number by the choir, "Song of Praise." We all felt that the strength and beauty of the music was far beyond what a group of singers of that size could be producing and wondered if heavenly choirs were filling in also.
President Hinckley in his address mentioned that he had participated in the dedication or rededication of all but five of the currently operating temples.
President Howard W. Hunter spoke of how temples are like corrective lenses: they allow us to see the things of eternity clearly.
President Monson then read the dedicatory prayer that President Hunter had offered in the morning session. Michael and Shauna had attended that session with Shauna's family. Michael and Shauna were engaged at the time and would be married in this temple three months later. (Michael, incidentally, was the only one of our children old enough to attend the dedication of the Jordan River Temple back in November 1981, just a couple months after he turned eight.)
Elder Maxwell explained and then led us in the Hosanna Shout, followed by the emotional climax when the choir sang the "Hosanna Anthem" (written by Evan Stephens for the dedication of the Salt Lake Temple) and the congregation joined in with "The Spirit of God" (written by William W. Phelps for the dedication of the Kirtland Temple). Gerald N. Wray, our former stake president, gave the closing prayer.
Eliza wrote in her journal concerning the music, "It was so beutiful. It sounded like the tabranackle choir. It gave me goosebumps. It sound like tryumphint Angels singing. It made me feel so happy!!!"
After that entry is when she recorded, "You can't write down the way you feel."
Monday, June 15, 2009
The birth of our sixth child
On Wednesday, January 7, 1981, I wrote in my journal, "Claudia finished reading Camilla, the biography of Sister Kimball, which we received as a Christmas gift. I finished the book during the holidays while I was sick. If our new baby is a girl, we will probably name her Camilla."
We had actually made that decision a month earlier. During December Claudia and I had been at the Missionary Department Christmas dinner on the 26th Floor of the Church Office Building. President Spencer W. Kimball and his wife Camilla also attended, and we sat at the same table with them. Claudia was expecting our sixth child. She was about three months along, and we decided that evening if our baby was a boy we would name him Spencer and if a girl we would name her Camilla.
It would be another six months before we knew which one was coming.
Monday, June 15, 1981, was Claudia's parents' 32nd wedding anniversary. It was also three days after the due date of our sixth child. Early that day, about 3:30 in the morning, Claudia woke me up to say she was going to have a baby. Her contractions had started about 2:45, so she got up, washed two loads of clothes, showered, and washed her hair so she'd be ready to go to the hospital. We arrived there about 5:00, and Dr. Lewis delivered our sixth child and fourth daughter at 5:37. She weighed 8 pounds 8 ounces and was 21 inches long—our biggest baby thus far.
Dr. Lewis, who was leaving at 7:00 for a fishing trip in Alaska, said it was fortunate the delivery was fast. The baby was posterior, which made the very end of labor harder for Claudia. Also, because of the little one's position, the cord was pinched every time Claudia had a contraction. When Camilla was born, she was all purple and initially had a hard time getting her breathing started. Claudia was put on an IV before delivery but still bled heavily afterward. We were grateful for the blessings of modern medicine which the Lord has provided.
Claudia and Camilla were in the hospital until Thursday morning, June 18. I went to visit her early each morning, and the rest of the family came to see her and the baby each afternoon and evening. On one of those visits, six-year-old Rebecca gave Claudia a note:
I love you Mom. And Camilla. I like both of you. I think both of you are sweet. Here is a poem:
I like
Being in the hospital
With a babby.
The end.
Grandma and Grandpa Lange were in town visiting from California when Camilla was born. Grandpa and I were putting a new roof on our house.
The morning Camilla came home from Lakeview Hospital, all of the children were quite excited. We had a birthday party with gifts for each of the children: a soccer ball for Michael, roller skates for Rebecca, a dump truck for Talmage, and a doll for Anna.
Three weeks later, on Sunday morning, July 5, 1981, I blessed Camilla and gave her her name in the fast and testimony meeting of the Bountiful Twentieth Ward:
"Our Heavenly Father, in a spirit of gratitude and love we take this baby in our arms this morning to give her a name and a blessing. We do it by the power and authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood and in the name of Thy Son. The name we give her is Camilla Cleverly.
"Now, Camilla, we bless you, having come so recently from the presence of our Heavenly Father, that you will grow and develop and have strength of mind and body and every blessing you will need here in mortality as a child born in the covenant, an heir to all the promises and blessings given to those who belong to the household of faith.
"We bless you that you will obtain your full maturity and that you will fulfill the mission for which you were sent here to this earth. We bless you that your growth and development and health will be normal and that your life will be well pleasing to your parents and family, your friends and loved ones, and most of all to your Heavenly Father. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen."
We had actually made that decision a month earlier. During December Claudia and I had been at the Missionary Department Christmas dinner on the 26th Floor of the Church Office Building. President Spencer W. Kimball and his wife Camilla also attended, and we sat at the same table with them. Claudia was expecting our sixth child. She was about three months along, and we decided that evening if our baby was a boy we would name him Spencer and if a girl we would name her Camilla.
It would be another six months before we knew which one was coming.
Monday, June 15, 1981, was Claudia's parents' 32nd wedding anniversary. It was also three days after the due date of our sixth child. Early that day, about 3:30 in the morning, Claudia woke me up to say she was going to have a baby. Her contractions had started about 2:45, so she got up, washed two loads of clothes, showered, and washed her hair so she'd be ready to go to the hospital. We arrived there about 5:00, and Dr. Lewis delivered our sixth child and fourth daughter at 5:37. She weighed 8 pounds 8 ounces and was 21 inches long—our biggest baby thus far.
Dr. Lewis, who was leaving at 7:00 for a fishing trip in Alaska, said it was fortunate the delivery was fast. The baby was posterior, which made the very end of labor harder for Claudia. Also, because of the little one's position, the cord was pinched every time Claudia had a contraction. When Camilla was born, she was all purple and initially had a hard time getting her breathing started. Claudia was put on an IV before delivery but still bled heavily afterward. We were grateful for the blessings of modern medicine which the Lord has provided.
Claudia and Camilla were in the hospital until Thursday morning, June 18. I went to visit her early each morning, and the rest of the family came to see her and the baby each afternoon and evening. On one of those visits, six-year-old Rebecca gave Claudia a note:
I love you Mom. And Camilla. I like both of you. I think both of you are sweet. Here is a poem:
I like
Being in the hospital
With a babby.
The end.
Grandma and Grandpa Lange were in town visiting from California when Camilla was born. Grandpa and I were putting a new roof on our house.
The morning Camilla came home from Lakeview Hospital, all of the children were quite excited. We had a birthday party with gifts for each of the children: a soccer ball for Michael, roller skates for Rebecca, a dump truck for Talmage, and a doll for Anna.
Three weeks later, on Sunday morning, July 5, 1981, I blessed Camilla and gave her her name in the fast and testimony meeting of the Bountiful Twentieth Ward:
"Our Heavenly Father, in a spirit of gratitude and love we take this baby in our arms this morning to give her a name and a blessing. We do it by the power and authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood and in the name of Thy Son. The name we give her is Camilla Cleverly.
"Now, Camilla, we bless you, having come so recently from the presence of our Heavenly Father, that you will grow and develop and have strength of mind and body and every blessing you will need here in mortality as a child born in the covenant, an heir to all the promises and blessings given to those who belong to the household of faith.
"We bless you that you will obtain your full maturity and that you will fulfill the mission for which you were sent here to this earth. We bless you that your growth and development and health will be normal and that your life will be well pleasing to your parents and family, your friends and loved ones, and most of all to your Heavenly Father. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen."
Friday, June 12, 2009
A day trip to Twin Falls
The Twin Falls Idaho Temple was dedicated on Sunday, August 24, 2008, by President Thomas S. Monson. It was the 128th operating temple in the Church, the fourth in the state of Idaho.
In July I had gone to the Twin Falls open house with Michael, Shauna, and their four oldest children, eleven-year-old Meghan, ten-year-old Caleb, eight-year-old Jacob, and five-year-old Andrew. The eighteen-month-old twins—Ethan and Marta—were home with Grandma Claudia. The temple was the first stop on our vacation to the Pacific Northwest.
I had described the open house in my journal: "At the open house we started in the adjacent stake center, where we received a brief orientation and watched a short video about the purpose of temples and the history of the Church in the Twin Falls area. Then tour guides took us through the temple. At the front entrance into the temple they had us put plastic foot coverings over our shoes (so as not to unduly soil the carpets throughout the temple).
"We proceeded through the entry and waiting areas to the baptistry in the rear part of the temple. We explained to the children why the baptismal font is placed on the backs of twelve oxen, following the pattern used in Solomon's Temple anciently as recorded in the Old Testament, the oxen representing the twelve tribes of Israel.
"We then walked up a staircase to the upper level, where we walked through the women's dressing room, the bride's dressing room, the ordinance rooms used for the endowment (the one we were in had a gorgeous mural showing the Shoshone Falls on the Snake River), the celestial room, and a sealing room. One of the nice touches was use of a symbolized version of the Idaho state flower, the syringa or mock orange, throughout the temple in the woodwork, the windows, in designs in the carpets, etc."
A couple months later, sometime in the fall, my sister Jackie and her son Jared were down from Boise for a wedding. They stayed overnight at our house in Bountiful. During her visit, Jackie and I got talking about the new temple in Twin Falls. We thought it would be nice to meet sometime in Twin Falls to do an endowment session together. The temple was, after all, more or less in the middle between Boise and Bountiful and wouldn't be too bad a drive for any of us—less than two hours for the Idaho family, less than three hours for the Utah family.
The idea stuck in the back of my mind. I let winter pass so we wouldn't have to concern ourselves with navigating treacherous roads through the mountains and desolate stretches of northern Utah and southern Idaho. Finally, on the final weekend of April, I phoned Jackie to remind her of the idea and laid out some dates in May or June that would work for us. We ended up picking the very next weekend, Saturday, May 2. She agreed to check with other family members in the Boise area, and I agreed to check with people in Utah.
Within a day or two we had eight family members committed to going: my brother Dale and his wife LeAnn from Nampa, my sister Jackie and her daughter Jolene from Boise, Claudia and I from Bountiful, and our daughter Mary and her husband from Salt Lake. Endowment sessions in Twin Falls are by appointment only, so I called the temple and gave the names to the sweet sister who answered the phone. There were some maybes along the way, possibly my brother Lyle from Parma and my brother Gene from Nampa.
Sessions began every two hours. We picked the session at 3:30 in the afternoon, hoping that would not be too late in the day for everyone. That would give us time to drive there after dealing with some commitments we already had that morning. It turned out to be an ideal time for everyone. Jolene had to work until 11:00. Dale and LeAnn worked in the Boise Temple every Saturday morning and completed their assignments at 11:00. Mary was running in a 5K race in Clearfield at 9:00. Perfect. We were all set.
Saturday morning, May 2, 2009, dawned bright and early. Well, it didn't exactly dawn, and it wasn't exactly bright. It was dark and dreary. The nighttime dark gradually became the daytime dark. The entire state of Utah, according to weather reports, was blanketed with dark clouds, and a heavy rain was falling. Snow was expected in elevations higher than 8,000 feet or 9,000 feet, depending on which forecast we listened to, but the road from here to Idaho didn't go anywhere near that high.
Mary phoned. She was still going to run her race in the rain, but Vince had to work, they had just learned, so they were bowing out of our little day trip.
Claudia and I left Bountiful about a quarter after eleven. The rain was heavy, the roads were wet, and the flow of traffic on the freeway was slower than normal. I stayed five to ten miles an hour under the posted speed limit all along through Davis, Weber, and Box Elder counties. As we approached Snowville, in the northwestern corner of the state, the rain finally stopped, and the roads were pretty much dry the rest of the way across southern Idaho.
Even with the weather and our slower pace, we had made good time, so we decided to stop at Burley to grab a bite of something to eat. We stopped at a Burger King and ordered grilled chicken sandwiches and small lemonades.
After lunch we got back on the freeway and headed the final half hour to Twin Falls. Dale called to see where we were, and I told him we were about 25 miles east of Twin Falls. The four of them—Dale, LeAnn, Jackie, and Jolene—had just arrived from Boise and were waiting for us in the temple parking lot. We would have arrived at about the same time had we not stopped to eat lunch.
We pulled into the parking lot, found a close vacant spot, parked, and called to see where they were. Two cars away, just beyond the car parked right next to us.
We entered the lovely temple and were directed to the dressing rooms, where we changed into our white clothing, and then were directed to the endowment room, the one with the lovely mural of Shoshone Falls. It was nice to be in the temple with family members we do not normally get to associate with. Dale and I were serving as proxies for two brothers, sons of the same parents, born in Denmark in the late 1800s. I served for the older brother, Dale for the younger.
After we finished at the temple, we left Jackie's car in the temple parking lot and all rode together in our minivan the few miles to the Shoshone Falls. Jackie had heard on the news that this was the ideal time of year to visit the falls. The water level was at its highest, with the normal spring runoff, bolstered by all the recent rains, and before they started diverting water upstream for agricultural uses.
Sometimes called the "Niagara of the West," the falls are 212 feet high (some 50 feet higher than Niagara Falls) and flow over a rim 900 feet wide. It was an impressive sight.
We concluded our mini-reunion by eating at Carino's, an Italian restaurant in Twin Falls before one car headed west and north the 130 miles to Boise and the other car headed east and south the 215 miles to Bountiful. It had been a nice day.
In July I had gone to the Twin Falls open house with Michael, Shauna, and their four oldest children, eleven-year-old Meghan, ten-year-old Caleb, eight-year-old Jacob, and five-year-old Andrew. The eighteen-month-old twins—Ethan and Marta—were home with Grandma Claudia. The temple was the first stop on our vacation to the Pacific Northwest.
I had described the open house in my journal: "At the open house we started in the adjacent stake center, where we received a brief orientation and watched a short video about the purpose of temples and the history of the Church in the Twin Falls area. Then tour guides took us through the temple. At the front entrance into the temple they had us put plastic foot coverings over our shoes (so as not to unduly soil the carpets throughout the temple).
"We proceeded through the entry and waiting areas to the baptistry in the rear part of the temple. We explained to the children why the baptismal font is placed on the backs of twelve oxen, following the pattern used in Solomon's Temple anciently as recorded in the Old Testament, the oxen representing the twelve tribes of Israel.
"We then walked up a staircase to the upper level, where we walked through the women's dressing room, the bride's dressing room, the ordinance rooms used for the endowment (the one we were in had a gorgeous mural showing the Shoshone Falls on the Snake River), the celestial room, and a sealing room. One of the nice touches was use of a symbolized version of the Idaho state flower, the syringa or mock orange, throughout the temple in the woodwork, the windows, in designs in the carpets, etc."
A couple months later, sometime in the fall, my sister Jackie and her son Jared were down from Boise for a wedding. They stayed overnight at our house in Bountiful. During her visit, Jackie and I got talking about the new temple in Twin Falls. We thought it would be nice to meet sometime in Twin Falls to do an endowment session together. The temple was, after all, more or less in the middle between Boise and Bountiful and wouldn't be too bad a drive for any of us—less than two hours for the Idaho family, less than three hours for the Utah family.
The idea stuck in the back of my mind. I let winter pass so we wouldn't have to concern ourselves with navigating treacherous roads through the mountains and desolate stretches of northern Utah and southern Idaho. Finally, on the final weekend of April, I phoned Jackie to remind her of the idea and laid out some dates in May or June that would work for us. We ended up picking the very next weekend, Saturday, May 2. She agreed to check with other family members in the Boise area, and I agreed to check with people in Utah.
Within a day or two we had eight family members committed to going: my brother Dale and his wife LeAnn from Nampa, my sister Jackie and her daughter Jolene from Boise, Claudia and I from Bountiful, and our daughter Mary and her husband from Salt Lake. Endowment sessions in Twin Falls are by appointment only, so I called the temple and gave the names to the sweet sister who answered the phone. There were some maybes along the way, possibly my brother Lyle from Parma and my brother Gene from Nampa.
Sessions began every two hours. We picked the session at 3:30 in the afternoon, hoping that would not be too late in the day for everyone. That would give us time to drive there after dealing with some commitments we already had that morning. It turned out to be an ideal time for everyone. Jolene had to work until 11:00. Dale and LeAnn worked in the Boise Temple every Saturday morning and completed their assignments at 11:00. Mary was running in a 5K race in Clearfield at 9:00. Perfect. We were all set.
Saturday morning, May 2, 2009, dawned bright and early. Well, it didn't exactly dawn, and it wasn't exactly bright. It was dark and dreary. The nighttime dark gradually became the daytime dark. The entire state of Utah, according to weather reports, was blanketed with dark clouds, and a heavy rain was falling. Snow was expected in elevations higher than 8,000 feet or 9,000 feet, depending on which forecast we listened to, but the road from here to Idaho didn't go anywhere near that high.
Mary phoned. She was still going to run her race in the rain, but Vince had to work, they had just learned, so they were bowing out of our little day trip.
Claudia and I left Bountiful about a quarter after eleven. The rain was heavy, the roads were wet, and the flow of traffic on the freeway was slower than normal. I stayed five to ten miles an hour under the posted speed limit all along through Davis, Weber, and Box Elder counties. As we approached Snowville, in the northwestern corner of the state, the rain finally stopped, and the roads were pretty much dry the rest of the way across southern Idaho.
Even with the weather and our slower pace, we had made good time, so we decided to stop at Burley to grab a bite of something to eat. We stopped at a Burger King and ordered grilled chicken sandwiches and small lemonades.
After lunch we got back on the freeway and headed the final half hour to Twin Falls. Dale called to see where we were, and I told him we were about 25 miles east of Twin Falls. The four of them—Dale, LeAnn, Jackie, and Jolene—had just arrived from Boise and were waiting for us in the temple parking lot. We would have arrived at about the same time had we not stopped to eat lunch.
We pulled into the parking lot, found a close vacant spot, parked, and called to see where they were. Two cars away, just beyond the car parked right next to us.
We entered the lovely temple and were directed to the dressing rooms, where we changed into our white clothing, and then were directed to the endowment room, the one with the lovely mural of Shoshone Falls. It was nice to be in the temple with family members we do not normally get to associate with. Dale and I were serving as proxies for two brothers, sons of the same parents, born in Denmark in the late 1800s. I served for the older brother, Dale for the younger.
After we finished at the temple, we left Jackie's car in the temple parking lot and all rode together in our minivan the few miles to the Shoshone Falls. Jackie had heard on the news that this was the ideal time of year to visit the falls. The water level was at its highest, with the normal spring runoff, bolstered by all the recent rains, and before they started diverting water upstream for agricultural uses.
Sometimes called the "Niagara of the West," the falls are 212 feet high (some 50 feet higher than Niagara Falls) and flow over a rim 900 feet wide. It was an impressive sight.
We concluded our mini-reunion by eating at Carino's, an Italian restaurant in Twin Falls before one car headed west and north the 130 miles to Boise and the other car headed east and south the 215 miles to Bountiful. It had been a nice day.
Friday, June 5, 2009
A red-letter day in Recife
During the final months of my mission I served as both district leader and branch president in Maceió, the capital city of Alagoas, in northeastern Brazil. Those were days of great joy for a young servant of the Lord.
One of the red-letter days of my service in Maceió actually occurred four hours up the coast in Recife. It was Thursday, September 10, 1970. We had traveled to Recife for a missionary conference in the afternoon and a member district conference in the evening. And we topped the day off with a baptismal service that evening, ever and always a highlight for missionaries.
Elder Gordon B. Hinckley of the Council of the Twelve was in town, along with his dear wife, and with our mission president and his wife.
In the missionary conference, by some twist of fate, undoubtedly President Johnson's twisting, I was the only missionary participant, sharing the program with Sister Marjorie Hinckley, Sister Virginia Johnson, President Hal R. Johnson, and Brother Hinckley, who spoke in that order. I was first on the program, discussing for a few moments priesthood stewardships and the blessing powers of the priesthood.
Sister Hinckley's talk really impressed me. She spoke of the modern-day miracles she has been seeing, including the growth of the Church and the members thereof. Last Sunday, she related, she saw the third stake in São Paulo being organized. South America holds a special spot in her heart. She compared the work here to the construction of a great building. Sometimes an elder may feel he has done nothing on his mission, but hundreds before have felt the same. In reality, they have all placed their bricks into the edifice, and the kingdom grows.
During President Johnson's talk I had a brief but wonderful interview with Brother Hinckley. Knowing I was branch president, he asked me a little about Maceió. We talked about both the city and our little branch. We talked about my companion briefly. He asked me what I most admired in him. I had to think on that one, not that I could not think of anything, but that I had to choose one trait of many that I admire. I answered, "His ability to love others."
Brother Hinckley asked, "Don't you love people?"
I responded, "I certainly try."
He rejoined, "But your companion does a better job?"
He told me he had recently been to stake conference in Nampa. When I asked how they were doing, he replied, "They miss you, Elder."
We also spoke of my schooling plans, and I learned that Brother Hinckley once had been an English major also.
My companion, Elder Dana Blackham, was interviewed right after me. He was asked about his companion too. That evening Elder Blackham shared with me what he said to the Apostle: "I love him for his ability to stay close to the Lord."
The highlight of the afternoon was when Brother Hinckley held a question-answer session and spoke to us. That was a marvelous experience. Once again the Spirit bore witness that here was an Apostle of the Almighty God. I was so impressed by so many things he said that I cannot even write them all here.
He taught us that there was no shame in saying, "I don't know," if we did not know something. He said that to him the gospel is becoming simpler and more beautiful and his faith likewise simpler. To me that was profound. He told us to stick to the scriptures and not worry too much about reading everything else that comes off the presses.
Someone asked him about the Second Comforter. His response was that we have our hands full trying to keep the constant companionship of the First Comforter. Worry about that first.
His comments on the draft situation made things look rather hopeful as far as my being able to finish my education without interruption. At the time I had left on my mission, two years earlier, I assumed after my couple of years for the Lord that I would also be giving a couple of years to my country.
Brother Hinckley spoke also about adultery and fornication by way of inspired warning. He said he did not always speak of that subject, as if inspired to do so on this occasion.
And then he bore his apostolic witness to the divine mission of the Savior and the truthfulness of the restoration of the gospel.
This evening's district conference was an added spiritual feast. We had the members from Maceió all sitting together on the front three rows. As great as the talks of President and Sister Johnson and Sister Hinckley were, and all of them were a spiritual treat, the highlight once again was Brother Hinckley's remarks.
The beauty of his lessons came from their simplicity. He took a flower from a bouquet on a nearby table and compared it to a member of the Church, beautiful today but tomorrow dry and withered because it had been cut from its stem. Inactivity because of misunderstanding, harsh words, personal weakness leaves us cut off from the Church, and we die spiritually.
He spoke about the word recife, which means reef, since he was in Recife, comparing it to the Church as it protects our lives and gives them peace and calm.
In addition to his inspired insights, Brother Hinckley also has a fantastic sense of humor. The members, unfortunately, had to experience that a step removed through an interpreter.
An elderly couple from Maceió had traveled to the conference, and we held a quick baptismal service for them after the session ended. We had decided that the four-hour car ride would be less strenuous for them, given their age and health, than finding a suitable location to baptize in the ocean at Maceió. The last time I had baptized someone in Maceió, we had to walk a quarter of a mile out from shore in ankle-deep water to find water deep enough to immerse the rather smallish eight-year-old boy. With adults we would have had to walk considerably farther, half way to Africa it would have seemed. At least the meetinghouse in Recife had a proper baptismal font.
Elder Blackham baptized Apolinário Cecílio dos Santos, and I afterward confirmed him. I baptized Idelta Craveiro Santos, and Elder Blackham confirmed her. They were certainly happy. It had been a big day for them, but they survived. And we were filled with a special joy, Elder Blackham and I.
One of the red-letter days of my service in Maceió actually occurred four hours up the coast in Recife. It was Thursday, September 10, 1970. We had traveled to Recife for a missionary conference in the afternoon and a member district conference in the evening. And we topped the day off with a baptismal service that evening, ever and always a highlight for missionaries.
Elder Gordon B. Hinckley of the Council of the Twelve was in town, along with his dear wife, and with our mission president and his wife.
In the missionary conference, by some twist of fate, undoubtedly President Johnson's twisting, I was the only missionary participant, sharing the program with Sister Marjorie Hinckley, Sister Virginia Johnson, President Hal R. Johnson, and Brother Hinckley, who spoke in that order. I was first on the program, discussing for a few moments priesthood stewardships and the blessing powers of the priesthood.
Sister Hinckley's talk really impressed me. She spoke of the modern-day miracles she has been seeing, including the growth of the Church and the members thereof. Last Sunday, she related, she saw the third stake in São Paulo being organized. South America holds a special spot in her heart. She compared the work here to the construction of a great building. Sometimes an elder may feel he has done nothing on his mission, but hundreds before have felt the same. In reality, they have all placed their bricks into the edifice, and the kingdom grows.
During President Johnson's talk I had a brief but wonderful interview with Brother Hinckley. Knowing I was branch president, he asked me a little about Maceió. We talked about both the city and our little branch. We talked about my companion briefly. He asked me what I most admired in him. I had to think on that one, not that I could not think of anything, but that I had to choose one trait of many that I admire. I answered, "His ability to love others."
Brother Hinckley asked, "Don't you love people?"
I responded, "I certainly try."
He rejoined, "But your companion does a better job?"
He told me he had recently been to stake conference in Nampa. When I asked how they were doing, he replied, "They miss you, Elder."
We also spoke of my schooling plans, and I learned that Brother Hinckley once had been an English major also.
My companion, Elder Dana Blackham, was interviewed right after me. He was asked about his companion too. That evening Elder Blackham shared with me what he said to the Apostle: "I love him for his ability to stay close to the Lord."
The highlight of the afternoon was when Brother Hinckley held a question-answer session and spoke to us. That was a marvelous experience. Once again the Spirit bore witness that here was an Apostle of the Almighty God. I was so impressed by so many things he said that I cannot even write them all here.
He taught us that there was no shame in saying, "I don't know," if we did not know something. He said that to him the gospel is becoming simpler and more beautiful and his faith likewise simpler. To me that was profound. He told us to stick to the scriptures and not worry too much about reading everything else that comes off the presses.
Someone asked him about the Second Comforter. His response was that we have our hands full trying to keep the constant companionship of the First Comforter. Worry about that first.
His comments on the draft situation made things look rather hopeful as far as my being able to finish my education without interruption. At the time I had left on my mission, two years earlier, I assumed after my couple of years for the Lord that I would also be giving a couple of years to my country.
Brother Hinckley spoke also about adultery and fornication by way of inspired warning. He said he did not always speak of that subject, as if inspired to do so on this occasion.
And then he bore his apostolic witness to the divine mission of the Savior and the truthfulness of the restoration of the gospel.
This evening's district conference was an added spiritual feast. We had the members from Maceió all sitting together on the front three rows. As great as the talks of President and Sister Johnson and Sister Hinckley were, and all of them were a spiritual treat, the highlight once again was Brother Hinckley's remarks.
The beauty of his lessons came from their simplicity. He took a flower from a bouquet on a nearby table and compared it to a member of the Church, beautiful today but tomorrow dry and withered because it had been cut from its stem. Inactivity because of misunderstanding, harsh words, personal weakness leaves us cut off from the Church, and we die spiritually.
He spoke about the word recife, which means reef, since he was in Recife, comparing it to the Church as it protects our lives and gives them peace and calm.
In addition to his inspired insights, Brother Hinckley also has a fantastic sense of humor. The members, unfortunately, had to experience that a step removed through an interpreter.
An elderly couple from Maceió had traveled to the conference, and we held a quick baptismal service for them after the session ended. We had decided that the four-hour car ride would be less strenuous for them, given their age and health, than finding a suitable location to baptize in the ocean at Maceió. The last time I had baptized someone in Maceió, we had to walk a quarter of a mile out from shore in ankle-deep water to find water deep enough to immerse the rather smallish eight-year-old boy. With adults we would have had to walk considerably farther, half way to Africa it would have seemed. At least the meetinghouse in Recife had a proper baptismal font.
Elder Blackham baptized Apolinário Cecílio dos Santos, and I afterward confirmed him. I baptized Idelta Craveiro Santos, and Elder Blackham confirmed her. They were certainly happy. It had been a big day for them, but they survived. And we were filled with a special joy, Elder Blackham and I.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The birth of our fourth child
Talmage was born on Thursday, June 2, 1977. It was a beautiful summer morning. Grandma and Grandpa Lange were visiting us from California. Grandpa had helped us build a brick-and-picket fence in front of our house in Rose Park to help keep nearly-two-year-old Rachael from wandering all over the neighborhood. I was at work at the Church Office Building, and Claudia had gone to her doctor for her weekly visit. He thought she would be having a baby very soon.
Sometime between 10:00 and 10:30 that morning, she called me at work to say she was beginning to feel something, she thought. She was never sure about these things. I had the car and agreed to come home at lunchtime.
A little after 11:00 she called me again to say she thought I should come home right then. I excitedly hopped in the car and hurried home in less than ten minutes. No one was there. The neighbor lady from across the street yelled that everyone had gone in Grandpa's car to the hospital in Bountiful. It was an exciting ride for the children as Grandpa slipped in and out of traffic trying to get to the hospital as quick as he could. Claudia was busy doing her panting exercise to try to keep something from happening in the car.
When I got to Lakeview Hospital, probably not many minutes afterward, I went racing into the hospital, tearing down the hallway, when it occurred to me that I didn't have the foggiest notion of where the delivery area was.
After helpful hospital people kindly directed me where to go, I scrubbed up and was coming into the delivery room through one door just as the doctor was entering through another. A nurse was preparing to deliver our baby and I guess would have done so had the doctor not arrived just in the nick.
In a special Christmas issue of the Cleverly Newsletter sent to non-family members in December, I recounted the official conclusion of the story: "Talmage John Cleverly was born at noon on Thursday, June 2, 1977, in the Lakeview Hospital in Bountiful, Utah—about forty minutes after Mama decided she was in labor, about ten minutes after she arrived at the hospital, about three minutes after the doctor reached the delivery room, and about a minute and a half after Daddy arrived from work. He was a healthy 3580 grams, 52 cm long, with lots of dark hair which is now a little lighter."
Talmage was our fourth child, our second son.
When I brought Claudia and Talmage home from the hospital on Sunday morning, there were Michael, Rebecca, and Rachael standing in the front yard to greet us. Rachael, of course, was on the outside of the closed new fence we had just built to keep her in.
Three and a half weeks later, we took Talmage to the fast and testimony meeting in the Rose Park Fourth Ward, Salt Lake Rose Park Stake, where I gave him his name and a blessing:
"Our Heavenly Father, we take this infant child in our arms by the authority of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood to give him a name and a blessing. The name which we give to him this afternoon is Talmage John Cleverly.
"And now, Talmage, we give unto you a blessing at this time. We are grateful that you have come so recently from our Heavenly Father and that you are clean and pure and innocent as you begin this life. We are grateful for the great contributions that will lie ahead for you.
"You have been born into a noble heritage, into the house of Israel, and because of your ancestors, an eighth-generation member of the Church of Jesus Christ. And you, because of the name that you are receiving this day, also have a great heritage to give you an example to live up to. You are receiving the name of a great apostle of the Lord, who has made many contributions in many fields, perhaps the greatest his insights into the life and mission of our Savior, the Redeemer of the world. And the name John, after that apostle who was called beloved by the Savior, and after your maternal grandfather, a man without guile, one whom you can pattern your life after and emulate.
"We bless you that you may grow and become strong and healthy. We say to you that you will grow to receive all the blessings of the gospel, that you will be baptized and in due time receive the holy priesthood and someday have the opportunity of raising your voice as a missionary to the nations of the earth and make covenants with your Heavenly Father in sacred places and be married one day with one worthy to accompany you throughout the eternities.
"And all these things will come to pass if you are faithful and if you seek for them. And this blessing we pronounce upon you at this time in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen."
Sometime between 10:00 and 10:30 that morning, she called me at work to say she was beginning to feel something, she thought. She was never sure about these things. I had the car and agreed to come home at lunchtime.
A little after 11:00 she called me again to say she thought I should come home right then. I excitedly hopped in the car and hurried home in less than ten minutes. No one was there. The neighbor lady from across the street yelled that everyone had gone in Grandpa's car to the hospital in Bountiful. It was an exciting ride for the children as Grandpa slipped in and out of traffic trying to get to the hospital as quick as he could. Claudia was busy doing her panting exercise to try to keep something from happening in the car.
When I got to Lakeview Hospital, probably not many minutes afterward, I went racing into the hospital, tearing down the hallway, when it occurred to me that I didn't have the foggiest notion of where the delivery area was.
After helpful hospital people kindly directed me where to go, I scrubbed up and was coming into the delivery room through one door just as the doctor was entering through another. A nurse was preparing to deliver our baby and I guess would have done so had the doctor not arrived just in the nick.
In a special Christmas issue of the Cleverly Newsletter sent to non-family members in December, I recounted the official conclusion of the story: "Talmage John Cleverly was born at noon on Thursday, June 2, 1977, in the Lakeview Hospital in Bountiful, Utah—about forty minutes after Mama decided she was in labor, about ten minutes after she arrived at the hospital, about three minutes after the doctor reached the delivery room, and about a minute and a half after Daddy arrived from work. He was a healthy 3580 grams, 52 cm long, with lots of dark hair which is now a little lighter."
Talmage was our fourth child, our second son.
When I brought Claudia and Talmage home from the hospital on Sunday morning, there were Michael, Rebecca, and Rachael standing in the front yard to greet us. Rachael, of course, was on the outside of the closed new fence we had just built to keep her in.
Three and a half weeks later, we took Talmage to the fast and testimony meeting in the Rose Park Fourth Ward, Salt Lake Rose Park Stake, where I gave him his name and a blessing:
"Our Heavenly Father, we take this infant child in our arms by the authority of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood to give him a name and a blessing. The name which we give to him this afternoon is Talmage John Cleverly.
"And now, Talmage, we give unto you a blessing at this time. We are grateful that you have come so recently from our Heavenly Father and that you are clean and pure and innocent as you begin this life. We are grateful for the great contributions that will lie ahead for you.
"You have been born into a noble heritage, into the house of Israel, and because of your ancestors, an eighth-generation member of the Church of Jesus Christ. And you, because of the name that you are receiving this day, also have a great heritage to give you an example to live up to. You are receiving the name of a great apostle of the Lord, who has made many contributions in many fields, perhaps the greatest his insights into the life and mission of our Savior, the Redeemer of the world. And the name John, after that apostle who was called beloved by the Savior, and after your maternal grandfather, a man without guile, one whom you can pattern your life after and emulate.
"We bless you that you may grow and become strong and healthy. We say to you that you will grow to receive all the blessings of the gospel, that you will be baptized and in due time receive the holy priesthood and someday have the opportunity of raising your voice as a missionary to the nations of the earth and make covenants with your Heavenly Father in sacred places and be married one day with one worthy to accompany you throughout the eternities.
"And all these things will come to pass if you are faithful and if you seek for them. And this blessing we pronounce upon you at this time in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen."
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