Merry Christmas 1964

The Happy little Yadon family 1964. (love the bow ties and hairdos)

Jerry Swarthout

Jerry Swarthout lived across the street from us in Vancouver. He was a year older that me. His family was what Dad called "Jack Mormons". Both is parents were chain smokers and would actually light one cigarette off of another on. I remember eating at their house and even the water tasted like smoke. But Jerry and I played together a lot. Here is a picture of us hanging upside down in a tree that fell over beside our house. We played in the woods a lot, road our bikes, whatever we could think of. One time we were having a water fight and I accidentally picked up a jug that I thought was full of water. Well it was full of GAS and I drenched Jerry with gasoline. That was the end of that water fight. Jerry love to tell big stories about what he did when he lived in California or Ohio. He always said he was related to the ice skater Peggy Fleming. My first couple years of High School I rode with him to school. After I left home and both of Jerry's parents passed away, he got real wild and drinking...About 10 years ago he was killed when he drove his car into a telephone pole.

Orpha June Marshall Yadon

This is a picture of my beautiful mother, Orpha June Marshall Yadon. She is holding her first "baby", Blackie. Before the children come along a couple seems to need something to care for and this was their first attempt at nurturing. Shortly later I was born and "believe me" I was nurtured. Mom and Dad were in their late 20's before starting a family and they were well prepared. We always were very cared for and felt treasured by them. The love they gave us was something I really cherish. Our first home was in Hoonah, Alaska and while it probably did not have all the amenities we surely didn't noticed, because love prevailed. That love spilled beyond our four walls to the entire village. Ministering was what they did and they did it with all their might. They pastored in Hoonah for many years and won many souls to Jesus. From the time spent in Hoonah I remember: snow piled very high, garage sales in the church, footwashing services, my baby brother Nathaniel coming home from his birth in Juneau, making him cry so I could hug him, Cynthia Hanlon (my little friend), I remember sea plane flights, fish eggs being brought in from the boats, the smell of the fishing canneries, sledding down the hill by our house, lots of boats ( all kinds of boats), the dentist coming in a boat to see patients-- this list goes on but I will not bore you in this blog. What great memories!!!

Lassie

Here is Grandpa Marshall and Lassie in the yard at the Cherry farm in Grandview Washington. Lassie was part Springer Spaniel and something else I think. She was a very sweet ol dog. Her main trick was shaking hands, which us kids had her doing all the time. Wandering around the farm she would get burrs in her coat all the time and we would help pull them off her. Sometimes they would get so tangled that Grandpa would have to take his pocket knife and cut them out of her hair. Every morning Grandpa and sometimes Grandma (if Gramps was away)would get up and irrigate the trees by opening water gates or blocking certain ditches with mud. Lassie would follow them as they irrigated. I loved waking up on the farm to the smell of mint fields, hop fields and cherry wood burning in Grandma Marshall's wood burning cooking stove. There was also a peach orchard.

Lynn Hauser

In this first post I wanted to remember my cousin Lynn Hauser. Lynn was the son of Olive and Glen Hauser and lived in Boise Idaho. Lynn was 3 or 4 years older than me. We used to have such a great time together. In Boise we would go across the street from his house and play and hike on Camel Back Mountain. I remember Lynn trying to teach me to ride my bike. We heard the Ice Cream truck music down the street. He told me if I would ride without anyone holding on to the bike he would buy me an ice cream. I really tried, but didn't make it that time. (He bought me an ice cream anyway). I was always amazed at how Lynn would hold the pop bottle rockets in his hand and light them and let them go. Lynn drowned when he was 17. He was swimming with some friends up in the cold mountain water and just went under trying to get to his innertube. I could not believe Lynn was gone. I remember thinking he must have swam under water around the corner and got out of the water or something. It took them 2 weeks to find him.. I still miss him. Lynn was a great cousin. I guess my favorite memories of Lynn were on the Farm in Grandview Washington. More about that later.