I have three strikes against me. I am an only child, I missed kindergarten and I didn’t earn an Eagle Badge. This made me self-centered, selfish, and insecure. I didn’t have leadership skills or camping, hunting and fishing skills. I wasn’t prepared.
My father died when I was a baby so I was raised by a single mother. When I was six I moved to Provo and lived in a small house on fifth north and about 4th east with my mother, my grandmother Madson, my aunt Amelia who was in the 7th grade, my uncle Orlin who was in the 9th grade and my uncle Park who was a Senior in High School. My mother had to work and go to school, my grandmother let me do what ever I wanted as long I didn’t do any housework. She told I would break the dishes. I think she just thought I was cute. So I was self-centered and selfish.
When I was five years old my mother decided that she wanted to finish her bachelors degree. She had only a two-year teaching credential from Idaho State and some extra classes from Idaho State and summer school at the University of Idaho in Moscow, Idaho. My mother discovered that she had enough credits to get her degree if she spent two semesters full time at a University. She decided to go to Brigham Young University and leave me with her mother on the Ranch in Elkhorn, Idaho for the year. I have no idea why she picked BYU. BYU was a small—about 2,000 students—liberal arts college that emphasized teacher training. Maybe she thought it would be easier.
To get to the ranch from Malad, Idaho you drive west onthe Elkhorn road through St. Johns past the LDS Chapel and turn right onto Madsen Lane when you see the red brick one room schoolhouse. My mother taught her brothers and sisters in that school during her first year out of school. She said it was “hell.” The ranch is about one mile from the school on a dirt road. The road continues on a couple miles until it reaches the foot of the mountains. The Madson ranch is the only ranch on Madsen Lane. I don’t know why there is a discrepancy in the spelling. All I know is may great grandfather spelled his name Madsen. I don’t know if their was a falling out in the family or if they the “o” made it more American.
The Madsens were Danish and originally settled Salem when the got to Utah. My grandfather and four of his brothers ended up in southern Idaho or Northern Utah. They worked as sheepherders and freighted wheat to the railhead at Corinne, Utah near Brigham City. They took honey and other goods back to Idaho and sold them to the settlers. This is how my grandfather got hooked up with a pretty little Welch lady, Ann Amelia Clark. They had 11 children—Earl, Hattie, Elva, James, Jack, Orville, Rex, Grant, Parke, Orlin and Amelia Ann. Earl was killed in 1928 in a farm accident and my grandfather died of a heart attack in 1930 when he was 55 years old. When I came to live at the ranch in 1940 I was five years old and very excited to be living with my aunt and uncles. Amelia Ann was 11, Orlin was 13, Parke was 15 and in high school. Grant was 18 and we saw him quite often. James and Jack ran the farm and had since grandfather’s death. James was the oldest son. He was 18 at the time of Grandfather’s death. He gave up college to take over the ranch. He had just married Idonna Nuttal from Downey when I came to stay at the ranch. So he had a new wife and the responsibility to take care of her, his mother and three teen age siblings and me. He immediately started remodeling the house and by putting in indoor plumbing. That first year he and Idonna lived in a rented house in St. Johns.
The first thing I remember about the ranch was how excited I was when James drove up with his new car and his new bride. It was a brand new 1940 Chevrolet deluxe. I guess I could read a little bit by then because I remember how impressed I was with the word deluxe. James was a quiet man. He didn’t say much. When he did speak it was to tell you what to do or correct you. I was in awe and intimidated by James.
I enjoyed the interaction of my aunt and uncles although I was mostly an observer. I was kind of young. The Madsons are not very talkative, but they did enjoy teasing me. Orlin convinced me that eating the crust of the bread would put hair on my chest. I ate a lot of homemade bread not entirely because it tasted so good. I do have quite a bit of hair on my chest. Shortly after seeing James’ new car we traveled to Malad to buy our winter supply of food. The store was across the street from Malad High School, just up the hill from the Malad Mill where the farmers bring their wheat each fall. It looks just like the Lehi Roller Mills. Grandma bought everything in the store. She bought by the case, and by the gunnysack. It had to last all winter. We would be snowed in much of the winter. I was delighted when the happy grocer gave me a candy bar after we settled up and loaded the car.
The next adventure was going to school. There wasn’t a question about it. The first day of school I got ready and started down the road with Amelia Ann and Orlin. I was really excited as we walked the mile to school. When we got to school Miss Jones, the young lady who was the teacher greeted us. She was pleasant and seemed interested in me. I told her I was going to stay with my grandmother for the year.
Miss Jones asked, “What grade are you in?”
I said, “First grade.”
Miss Jones, “How old are you?”
Me, “Five.”
Miss Jones, “You have to be six years old to take first grade.”
Amelia, “He is smart. He will do fine in first grade.”
Miss Jones, “I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to attend school until next year. You will have to go back home and not return.”
So I turned around and walked home all by myself. I guess the teacher thought that eight grades were enough to teach in one room. It didn’t bother her that my grandmother was on the school board. That is why I missed kindergarten. When I started first grade the next year in Provo I was way behind. The first thing they asked me to do was write the alphabet. I made it to “e”. Immediately I realized that I was at the bottom of the class. I made me insecure and shy. I felt like I had to prove I was as good as anyone else.
I joined a Cub Scout Pack when I was 8. It was sponsored by the Community Church located at 2nd North and University Avenue in Provo. Our den mother was Mrs. Canfield who lived at about 250 North on 1st East. Her son Alan was one of my best friends. I completed the cub scout program with flying colors. In March 1947 I turned12 and became a Boy Scout. I became a first class scout in the minimum time. Thus I was encouraged attend a jamboree honoring the pioneers on the hundredth anniversary of their entrance into the Salt Lake Valley. I was the only scout from our ward who went. No leaders went. The main camp was at Camp Williams. I had no friends. No leaders took notice of me. I had nothing to do and it was hot. I felt like I was trapped at the end of the earth with a view of civilization across the ravine. I could see all of the traffic on highway 91 going between Utah County and Salt Lake County. I was miserable. Finally at the end of the week we went to Salt Lake City and attended the dedication of the This is The Place Monument at the mouth of Immigration Canyon. That was kind of cool. Then we marched in the Days of 47’ parade through downtown Salt Lake City. That day wasn’t to bad. That was the end scouting for me. This meant I missed the chance stick it out through adversity and complete a project. I didn’t learn the skills––camping, hunting and fishing, I didn’t learn leadership, or have chance to experience a variety of exciting vocations and hobbies by interacting with helpful adults.
Then I married Jewel. Jewel saved my life.
She tricked me into having so many babies that I could no longer be self-centered and selfish.
With so many mouths to feed I got over being insecure and shy in order to make enough money to support our family.
She set me straight about scouting too. In her family all the boys got their Eagle including her father. New rules eliminated that possibility for me. My boys all got their Eagle one way or the other.
Through my church work I got involved with Scouting. I learned that scouting was an important resource for preparing a young man to deal with the adult world.
