homework

My grandfather,  Edwin Dee Olpin started a mortuary business in Pleasant Grove, Utah. He was a hard-working farmer who decided Pleasant Grove needed a mortician. He was upset because the Anderson’s in American Fork were taking care of all of the deaths in Pleasant Grove. So he ordered  a case of embalming fluid from a catalog. He read the instructions on the bottle and started embalming the people who died in Pleasant Grove. Thus began the family business. My father grew up helping his father with the farm and with the mortuary.

My grandfather Olpin and both my grandparents on my mother’s side, Joseph Hiram Joseph and Catherine Elizabeth Griffith died before I was born. Grandfather Joseph was killed in a mining accident in Minersville, Utah near Beaver, Utah in 1907. My mother was just eight years old at the time. They lived in Adamsville, a small farming town also near Beaver. He left a widow and seven children ages 14 to 6. 

The only grandparent I knew was grandma Inez--Inez Melissa Robison.

Grandma Inez was a little, busy, quick moving lady. She had endless energy. She ran all day. She had false teeth that were not fitted properly. Those teeth clacking are the first thing that comes to mind  when I think of her. She lived right across the street from us. The street was State Street. It was the main highway between Salt Lake City and California when we lived there. Our home which was a combination mortuary and residents was on the west side of State Street. We lived on a few acres which also served as a small farm. We had cows, chickens and a garden.

I could “drop in” to see grandma any time—day or night—and feel welcome and treasured I visited  often. She came to our house almost every day finding things to do to help out. She 

came to our home after Sunday meeting.  She loved helping out with our family of six

children whenever she could figure out a way to help.  I never saw/heard her cry.

One Summer evening she crossed the highway as usual to spend some time with us and help put us to bed.  After visiting on our front porch she started walking toward her home in her quick little gait.  

There was honking, screeching of brakes and thump  thump.  She was gone instantly.  My parents wouldn’t let us leave our front porch. In fact my mother forced us to remain inside our house.  It was a terrible experience—I relive the sounds of those two terrible thumps.

Grandma wanted us to develop our talents.  She sat beside me on the piano 

bench for as long as I could stand to play.  She was a fabulous cook.  She put 

ingredients together whenever—whatever, and it was delicious.  Everyone loved her.

 She was my size and shape.  It makes me happy to remember that.

I loved her dearly.