6

Phyllis’Youth

Chapter 6

PHYLLIS’ YOUTH

SCHOOLI attended Lincoln school for kindergarten, first and second grades (1934-

1937), Irving school for third, fourth and fifth (1937-1940, and Franklin for sixth,seventh and eighth grades (1940-1943). It was while I was going to Franklin schoolthat I began to lose some of my shyness. In fact, I deliberately went the oppositedirection for a while because I felt I was losing out on opportunities because of it.

The Christmas of my sixth or seventh grade year, Mother and Daddy gaveme a small gelatin pad with colored inks and lots of small character drawings. Iturned reporter and printed a little newspaper on one sheet called “The Snooper.”It contained all the latest “love news” and was it ever popular.

The kids were all enjoying it until some of their parents noticed that it wasprinted on WPA paper (there was a small WPA stamp on the back that showedwhen you held the paper up to the light). WPA stood for Work ProjectsAdministration. The WPA was an agency of the U.S. Government which was setup during the depression years (1930's) and which sponsored useful public workprojects to assist needy unemployed people. My Dad was not able to get workduring the depression and was employed at a WPA arts center in Phoenix. Tosome people that was a stigma. Anyway, my little newspaper was a lot of fun whileit lasted. It was my first experience at writing, printing, and graphic design.

World War IIOn Sunday afternoon, December 7, 1941, we had gone for a ride and daddy

had turned on the radio in the car. Suddenly a special news bulletin broke thepeace of the afternoon and the days and years to follow, with the announcementthat the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. That was a shock felt and shared byeverybody. The very atmosphere seemed to change. Daddy was afraid he wouldbe drafted and have to leave us. Friends, neighbors and ward members werevolunteering to serve, and others were being drafted and sent off to war. I waseleven years old and wondered what the future held. It was frightening.

Several airfields were built close to Mesa, and soldiers and airman wereeverywhere. Convoys of trucks and armored vehicles were a common sight drivingthrough Mesa on Main Street and up North Country Club Drive, as wereformations of fighter planes in the sky overhead. Gas and tires were rationed, andthat ended family joy rides and trips, and church and school activities that requiredtransportation. In school we went on tin can and waste paper collecting drives.

Phyllis’ Youth 71

World War II–Attack on Pearl HarborIt was a surprise attack and there were 2,343 persons dead, 876 missing, and 1,272 injured.

Shoes and sugar were rationed, and there were endless lines in grocery and otherstores trying to got a box of soap powder, a can of shortening, a jar of mayonnaise,a pair of nylon hose, a sheet for a bed, and many other items.

Our whole social atmosphere changed as we geared up for the war and wentall out to win it. Asking for peace and for the war to end and our men to comehome to their families was part of every prayer. It seemed to me that as a peoplewe were humbled and looking to the Lord for protection and help.

Never Misuse a Spiritual ExperienceIn December of 1941, during my seventh grade year, Grandma had come

for Christmas. We had enjoyed a very lovely Christmas and appreciated havingher in our home to visit. It was a time of happiness. A happy holiday spiritprevailed. Two days after Christmas, the 27th, I had a very disturbing, unsettled,sad feeling all day long. I didn't know what to do with myself–I just felt at looseends and unhappy. Grandma noticed it and finally said, "Phyllis, what on earth isthe matter with you?" The only thing that I could tell her was that I feltunhappy–that I felt something was "wrong" somewhere. It really disturbedGrandma and a little later we learned that Esther, Grandma’s son Howard’s wife,had given birth to a baby girl that day, a baby that was physically impaired to sucha point that she would never be able to live a normal life. They predicted that shewouldn't live very long. She died six and one-half months later.

Why I felt the impact of the tragedy in the life of my uncle's family and noneof the rest of the family did, I don't know, but because of it I received a lot ofattention and respect for my feelings. Once when Mother and Daddy wanted to gosomewhere together and they wanted me to babysit the younger ones, I said Ididn't have a good feeling about it, and they stayed home. I felt guilty because theystayed home out of respect for my feelings, because of the previously mentionedexperience, and the only thing wrong was that I was selfish. I wanted to go withthem and have some fun instead of staying home and being a babysitter. I used

72 Phyllis’ Youth

what was, or may have been entrusted to me as a spiritual gift, in a selfish way,and I never again, at least for many years, was entrusted with such a sacred gift. The powers of heaven cannot be tampered with or used to satisfy selfish desires,and it has been hard for me to accept the fact that I would have been so foolish andimmature as to have done such a thing. I was eleven years old at the time, in fact,almost twelve, and while I did not understand the full significance of thewhisperings of the Holy Ghost, nevertheless, I suffered the consequences ofimproperly using a sacred gift entrusted to me.

The Importance of Reading Good BooksI loved to read. When I was in first grade Mother spent time with me at

home helping me learn how to sound out words so I had confidence in my abilityto read in front of the class at school. Reading stories to my brothers and sister

while baby-siting was my favorite way of calmingthem and having order when Mother and Daddywere gone. They seemed to enjoy having me read tothem. When very young my parents took me to theMesa Public Library and I checked out books toread.

During my seventh grade year of school wehad a library in the school and could check outbooks. At that time I read a book that had a profoundimpact on my life. It was a self-improvement book.What stuck in my mind from reading that book wasthat, in their opinion, shyness was a form of conceit.I couldn’t believe it and decided that my shyness wasgoing to be a thing of the past if that was what it was.Also it stated there were three ways that a personcould rise to a position of prominence: 1) if one’sparents occupied positions of social prominence; 2) ifone had the money to use to obtain it; and 3) throughthe development of one’s talents and abilities so thatthey became recognized and sought after for theirown worth. I decided that the first two were out ofmy reach, but the third option was something that Icould do and I began to work at self-improvementand to develop my talents.

Taking Care of SiblingsBeing the oldest in the family, I had to assume a lot of responsibility, and I

very often took care of my brothers and sister when Mother and Daddy wentplaces together. I was always a “worry wart," as my Dad called me. I knew myparents were having an awfully hard time financially and I tried to take some oftheir worries upon my own shoulders, although they never realized it. I justcouldn't bring myself to ask for things because I knew they couldn't afford them.Because of my serious attitude, I seemed to mature early and people thought I was

1941–11 years–7th grade.

Phyllis’ Youth 73

older than I really was. My early years were a training period for later ones, for itseemed I was continually having to face new and trying experiences. For a whileit seemed that nearly every time Mother and Daddy left home something happenedand I was faced with the responsibility of it. Most of the things I have forgotten, butthe following experiences are still vivid.

On one occasion when I was either in seventh or eighth grade, I was takingcare of my brothers and sister during the day. Don and Darrel, who wereapproximately seven and six years of age respectively, decided to take a bath. I wasin another room reading at the time when all of a sudden I heard the mosthysterical screaming. I dashed into the bathroom. Don was in the bathtub, his bodystiff and in a semi-circle, unconscious and very blue. Darrel was screaming so thatI couldn't get anything out of him and I didn't know what the matter was or whatto do, so in an instant I dashed to the neighbors, gave them the name of our Doctorto phone, and asked them to come help. I dashed back home to find Don underwater and not breathing. I pulled him out of the water and gave him artificialrespiration. By that time the neighbors, the Methodist minister and his wife whowere an elderly couple and couldn't get around very fast, had arrived and also thedoctor. Don was breathing, but was really shaken up badly. The doctor laughedand laughed and said that a couple of boys had sure learned a good lesson and toldme that I had been quite panicky. It was hard for me to forgive him for his ill-timedhumor, for I was shaken up quite a bit myself.

It wasn't until it was all over with that I found out what had happened. Itwas during the summer, and Darrel, without thinking, had picked up an electriccord that had been connected to a fan the night before and stuck it in the bathtubwith Don. When I had rushed into the bathroom I hadn't seen the cord in thewater, but Darrel, realizing what he had done, (for he had received a bad shockhimself when he picked the cord up with wet hands), took a dry towel (as motherhad shown us all to do, because our washer cord had a short in it), and pulled theelectric cord out of the bathtub while I was gone to the neighbors for help. Don hadsmall burns all over his body, and to this day we both have a healthy respect forelectricity. If Darrel hadn’t pulled the cord out of the tub, I feel sure Don wouldhave been electrocuted.

It was only a month or so following the previous episode, when I was againtaking care of the family alone, that Don had another accident. He had beenclimbing in a tree and had slipped, cutting his ear. He came into the house coveredwith blood. It looked as if he had almost cut his ear off, for it was cut awfully badall along the back of his ear where it joined the head. I was afraid he might loosehis hearing if something wasn't done, so I ran to a neighbor’s house about a blockaway, Bob and Naomi Ball’s, and ask if they could possibly help me out. Theyoffered to take him to the doctors for me so that I could stay and take care of therest of the kids at home. The doctor stitched it up and said it wouldn't bother hishearing, for which I was very thankful, as was Don and Mother and Daddy whenthey got home. I was also very thankful for such good neighbors.

A few years ago I was asking Don if he remembered the two experiences Ihave just related. He said, “How could I forget them? You were a pretty goodsister." He then asked if I remembered the time I had pulled him out of the

74 Phyllis’ Youth

swimming pool when he was going down for the third time. I had forgotten thatincident.

Survival SkillsAt a very early age I had a desire to learn basic survival skills–to learn how

to care and fend for myself and not to have to depend on others to meet my needs.As I remember, it was December of 1942, I was twelve years old, and Grandmawas visiting with us for Christmas. There was talk of killing a chicken to fix forsupper, and I asked Grandma if she would show me how to do everythingbeginning with cleaning the chicken and getting ready to cook it. She showed mehow to dip it in very hot water to make removing the feathers easier, how toremove the entrails, the importance of washing it clean and getting it ready to stuffwith dressing. Then she showed me how to fix a dressing from scratch.

Sometime after she returned home, I wanted to practice what she hadtaught me, and I announced that I was going to clean a chicken and fix it forsupper. It was a big job. It smelled so good while cooking, and I was so proud ofmyself as I put it on a platter and placed it on the table.

The family was all seated around the table, we had given thanks for ourfood, and then my dad cut into the chicken. As he was carving it near the breast,the contents of the craw spilled out. There on the plate was all of the grain, rocks,and whatever else the chicken had eaten that had not yet been digested. Everyonewas horrified. I had forgotten to pull out the craw.

Mother refused to eat it, and everyone else sided with her, refusing to eat it,except for Daddy. He and I enjoyed a feast.

Strict Obedience Is the KeyIn the previous chapter I mentioned that “I

learned early in life that it was important to obey myparents,” but when involved in many of life’s situations,it is easy to forget. On one occasion I went to playtennis with a girlfriend. Daddy’s instructions were, “Behome before dark.” My friend lived about three blocksfrom our home and after playing tennis she walkedabout half-way with me and then we stopped andchatted as the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon.Suddenly, I realized that the sun had gone down andthat it was almost dark. I said a quick goodbye to myfriend and started walking toward home. On the cornerof the street about a block from my home, lived somepeople that I was not acquainted with. There were aboutthree or four men, truckers, who had parked their truckfor the day and were standing on the corner talking. AsI passed by them out of the corner of my eye I noticedthat one of them left the group and started following me.As I walked faster, he did too. I became frightened andbroke into a run, and so did he. I ran as fast as I could,

Eighth Grade–12 years old.

Phyllis’ Youth 75

which at that time in my life was impressionable, hit the front porch, grabbed openthe door, and was safely inside. I was breathing very heavily.

The family were all there involved in various activities. Daddy noticed myrapid breathing and asked, “What’s the matter?”

I answered, “Nothing.” He questioned further, but I stuck to my firstresponse insisting that everything was okay. At that he let it go and I heaved a sighof relief. He brought it to my attention though that I was supposed to be homebefore dark and that it was pretty dark outside, but he didn’t pursue it any further.I did not want to alarm my father. In Mesa, a short while before this time, a fatherdiscovered a young man taking advantage of his daughter and shot and killed him.There had been much discussion over the matter and my father said hesympathized with the girl’s father and would have done the same thing. Well, wehad guns in the house, and if my father knew that someone had chased after mehe would have gone out and pursued him, and heaven only knows what mighthave happened.

I learned a good lesson though, at least for the moment. It is so importantto give strict heed to obey the counsel of one’s parents. Heavenly Father gave themto us to guide and protect us. They have lived a good while longer than we haveand know of the dangers that can befall one of those entrusted to their care.

Eighth Grade GraduationI graduated from grammar school in May of 1943. The class I liked best, and

excelled in most, was art, although physical education ran a close second. I wasfive feet five inches tall and weighed one hundred and ten pounds. I was beginningto lose some of my freckles, which according to one of my teachers, were so thickI “looked like a turkey egg.”

During the summer preceding my freshman year of high school a group ofus girls heard of an opportunity to make some money by washing the windows ofthe high school. I never dreamed there were so many windows in that building.There were two buildings of three floors each–hundreds of windows. It was quitea job, but we had a lot of fun doing it. The money was needed for clothes andschool expenses, and it added to my experience.

DatingWhen I entered my freshman year of high school at thirteen years of age,

I thought I was pretty grown up. About one month after school started, a fellowin my Spanish class, a member of the junior class, asked me for a date. Some of myfriends were dating, and at the time Daddy was out of town and I was not able totalk to him. Mother gave her permission. When Daddy returned home he was veryunhappy about it, and said I was too young to be dating, but a decision had alreadybeen made. He stood by it, but was unhappy all of the time I went with thatparticular guy. He was not a member of the Church and did not respect the rulesmy parents set for time for me to be home. He seemed like a nice guy, and wenearly always double-dated with L.D.S. kids, but I was a freshman and he was ajunior. In addition, most of the kids we doubled with were seniors and they allresented, and did not have respect for, the twelve o'clock deadline my parents had

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set as time for me to be home. I was continually in trouble because I was notgetting in before twelve o’clock, and I felt that it was not my fault and that myparents were unreasonable. It seemed like none of the other kid's parents caredwhat time they got in. My dad and mother were patient for awhile and then afterseveral months “lowered the boom.” I deserved the anger and punishment that Ifinally got, although I highly resented it at the time. Daddy forbade me to have adate for a whole month. I was so resentful and rebellious and felt like I hated mydad for what he was determined to go through with, and yet even at that youngage, and with all of my pent-up feelings of resentment, it didn't take long for me tosee that my father had acted wisely and justly.

What at first seemed a terrible punishment turned out to be a blessing indisguise. During that month, I found out that the boy I had been going with hadbegun to start drinking a little, although never in my presence, and had begun togo around with a pretty fast crowd. I began to realize that he had not beencompletely honest with me, and although we were “going steady," and I waswearing his pin, he was going around with other girls on the side. Instead of notdating him for a month I broke off with him completely and felt thankful for myfather's “punishment.”

In the spring of my freshman year of highschool, when I was fourteen, I went to my firstformal dance. It was the Girl's League Co-Eddance. I was interested in a boy I had met at theFifth Ward Mutual while attending that ward witha girlfriend. He was very tall, six feet five or sixinches, I'd guess, had a real good sense of humor,was a senior in high school, a member of thevarsity basketball team, and seemed to be a lot offun. I asked him, but he refused me because hethought that a senior girl he was wanting to datewas going to ask him. It turned out that she didn'task him after all and he ended up in the balconyas a spectator that night. Anyway, I didn't knowwhat to do when he said no, but daddy said, "Whydon't you ask someone your own age in ourward." I took his advice and went to the dance.

In Mesa during those years, we were veryfortunate to have a church building called theMezona where stake conferences and othermeetings were held and where every Fridayevening a dance was held for the wholecommunity, not just members of our church.There were always priesthood brethrenchaperoning to make sure the environment waswhat it should be, and we always had a live bandplaying–a good band–and it was fun to be therewith hundreds of other youth.

High School Freshman

Phyllis’ Youth 77

I usually stood around the edges with my friends, visiting and waiting forsomeone to ask me to dance. I usually averaged one or two dances an evening andfelt like a wall-flower. One evening I danced nearly every dance. I couldn’t figureit out. “What made the difference tonight?” I asked myself. It bothered me and Igave a lot of thought to it. I finally figured out it had something to do with myappearance. I tried the dress back on that I wore that night, my eighth gradegraduation dress, and stood in front of a mirror. I never dreamed it was that formfitting. “So that was the reason!” I was so mad at the opposite sex in general, thatI stopped going to dances and swore off even thinking about “guys.”

School let out for summer vacation that year, May 1944, and I was veryhappy for the change. I hadn’t applied myself in school like I could and shouldhave done. The subjects I chose to take my freshman year were: L.D.S. Seminary(Old Testament), Health Education, English, Spanish, Foods & Clothing andAlgebra. I was secretary in the Junior Sunday School in our ward most of thatwinter, and just before school let out I was called to teach a class of eight year-oldgirls and boys. I enjoyed working in the church, but I felt I was really too youngto be teaching a class because I didn’t feel capable of handling the disciplineproblems. There was a set of twin girls in the class that were a real challenge forme. They constantly interrupted every lesson.

A Sad Dark Day in My LifeOn Sunday afternoon, June 25, 1944, I went to a Stake Sunday School

Union meeting with Naomi Ball, a neighbor and our Junior Sunday SchoolCoordinator. It was a meeting held once a month for officers and teachers in theSunday School. After the meeting, and just as we arrived at Naomi’s house on thecorner, my sister Lois came running all excited and shouting, “Phyllis, Daddy’sbeen shot!"

Impulsively I took off running for home as fast as I could. A neighbor ladywas staying with my brothers and sister, and she confirmed Lois's message. I ranto the bedroom as fast as I could and prayed with all my might that Daddy wouldnot die. When I finished I heard the voice of Sister Ball, who had just driven overwith Lois, asking if I would like for her to drive me to the hospital to be withmother. When we got to the hospital mother was just coming out of the emergencyroom doors with Uncle Alma and Aunt Mary Davis. She came to me sobbing likeher heart would break. All she could say was, “He's gone!”

Daddy never recovered consciousness from the time the bullet entered hisbody until he was gone except to say to mother, “Tell the kids goodbye.” He hadalways said that when it was his time to go, he wanted to go fast. He did! It wasonly twenty minutes from the time the bullet entered his body until he was gone.

We returned home, our hearts breaking. I just could not believe it! Nothaving been there when it happened, everything had taken place so fast that itseemed unreal– like a nightmare. And even as the days passed it was so hard forall of us to convince ourselves that Daddy really was gone; that he was not evercoming back. Unconsciously when the usual time came for him to return homefrom work, we'd catch ourselves waiting for him, looking for his familiar truck tobe coming down the street, and if someone happened to walk across the front

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porch about that time, I'd unconsciously jump to my feet to greet Daddy. It was sohard to believe and to adjust to.

My brother Gene was at Camp Geronimo, Boy Scout Camp, when ithappened. Some friends went after him, and Lapreel Huber, our cousin whosehusband was in the army and stationed overseas, insisted on staying the night withmother. It really seemed to help her. Daddy’s sudden and tragic death was so hardon Mother, she and Daddy had always been so close.

My father’s death was so hard to understand. If ever a family needed a dad,we did. I was the oldest and only fourteen, and David, the youngest was only fouryears old. I will always be grateful for the understanding friends and relatives whohelped with love, comfort, meals, words of wisdom and inspiration in those darkdays. From them I learned about the resurrection and eternal families, and thatdeath was not the end.

I later learned that Daddy had been showing my cousin, Wendel Davis, hisguns. They were talking about hunting, and Daddy asked my younger brother,who was eight years old, to get another gun out of the closet. This he did, and ashe went to hand the gun to Daddy, it went off. The bullet entered Daddy’s rightlung going through the main artery of the heart and out his shoulder. There wereonly a few drops of blood shed along with a clear fluid, probably lymph. The doctorsaid that there wasn't the slightest chance of survival. What was so strange wasthat there was not supposed to have been a bullet in that gun. Daddy alwaysemptied and cleaned his guns after returning home from hunting. The gun hadbeen kept in a fruit closet that we were continually getting in and out of, and thegun had fallen when the closet was being cleaned a few days before. We think thatis how the safety was jarred loose, so that when my brother merely handed him thegun, as he had been instructed to do, it went off.

As soon as the immediate shock was over, I began to wonder what on earthwe would do financially. I was very mature for my age and was always wonderinghow we were going to make it financially. Suddenly the whole world seemed toturn black to me. It was so strange getting up the next morning. It was a beautifulsummer morning, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and yet I just feltnumb. People were coming and going to visit Mother, expressing condolences andoffering to help. Mother didn’t even have time or the desire to eat, she just wantedorange juice and finally had an allergic reaction from it and broke out with hives.

We needed to go shopping for clothes to wear to the funeral, but it was sohard. People on the street seemed happy. How could that be when I felt so sadinside. That was when I learned that life goes on in spite of how you feel or howthe future looks.

We thought we were without insurance, but as it turned out, a kind-heartedinsurance saleswoman, (I think her name was Mrs. Shupe) had paid for the firstpremium out of her own pocket. She had come to the house about six weeks beforeto sell Daddy an insurance policy. The papers were all made out and even signed,but when she came to pick up the money for the first premium, Daddy said hedidn’t want it. She paid for the first premium without anyone being aware of ituntil after Daddy's death. We were so thankful for her kindness and insight,probably more correctly stated, inspiration. We were overjoyed to learn of this

Phyllis’ Youth 79

money that would be available for some of the funeral expenses and pressing bills. She simply said she had a funny feeling when Daddy backed out and knew that weneeded insurance. She said she felt inspired to pay for it herself.

Thy Will Be DoneThrough this whole tragic experience I learned one of the greatest lessons

of my life–that of praying “Thy will be done.” The scriptures say, “The Lord givethand the Lord taketh,” and that he never asks us to do anything, but what Heprepares a way for us to accomplish the thing that He asks, and I can certainlyaffirm to the truthfulness of that scripture.

As time went on, things gradually began to fall into place and we were ableto get a proper perspective on life. Even before Daddy passed away, Mother hadbeen sick for months and now her health began to improve and she was able to geta job as clerk-typist in the irrigation office on the Salt River Indian Reservation.Mother had never worked outside of the home before Daddy’s death. She cookedand cleaned and sewed and was there for all of us during our early formative years.It was hard for her to think of going to work. I had to more or less assume the role

of a mother and take care of my brothers and sister so that mother could work.The skills I had been learning with cooking, sewing, and household chores werenow very much needed. The change in our lives was hard on everyone; on motherwho was trying to learn a new job and leave home everyday for the first time, aswell as make the tremendous emotional adjustment from daddy's death, on mybrothers and sister who had to have an immature big sister tell them what to do,

Family Group July 1944.Left to right: Don, Darrel, David, Mother, Phyllis, Lois. Gene must have been taking the picture.

We were all feeling very lonely that day. Picture taken on the Mesa Temple grounds.

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and it wasn't easy for me either, because I had been put in a very uncomfortableposition of keeping things going at home. I was only fourteen years of age. I knowI wasn't always as kind as I should have been, nevertheless, we made it with thecontinual help and support of our Father in Heaven.

Although my father’s untimely death was difficult to bear, I must in alltruthfulness say that it turned out to be a blessing in my life. The extraresponsibility to help out at home, the study of the gospel and prayers to try to copeand understand, became blessings to me. Heavenly Father can be trusted. Heknows the beginning from the end. He knows what is best.

Time eases disappointments and hurts, but over the years I have missed myDad so much. I long to see him again. A number of times I have felt that he hasbeen very near, such as at David's baptism and missionary farewell, and oncewhen I was sick and discouraged I felt him near. I know that mother has felt hiscomforting nearness many times. I hope I can so live that when I leave this mortalexistence, my dad will be there with open arms to greet me and be happy with thelife that I have lived. I have always wanted to live so that he would be proud of me.

An Important DecisionPreviously, I mentioned that I had asked a guy to go to the Co Ed with me

and he had turned me down. Shortly after that he asked me for a date and webegan going to parties and dances together and then started going steady. Again,Daddy was unhappy, and justifiably so, because the young man I was dating wasbeginning to get kind of serious. He was actually a member of our ward, but hadbeen attending other wards. One Sunday he was ordained a Priest and the nextday when I was with him he took the Lord’s name in vain. I was shocked. I toldhim right then and there I wanted nothing to do with anyone who would beordained one day and have no more respect for the Lord than to take his name invain the next. He felt so bad, and sincerely apologized, and I felt that he actuallyhadn’t realized the seriousness of what he had done until I objected.

After daddy's death, I was so torn up emotionally that nothing seemed thesame anymore. One of the last things Daddy had talked to me about before hisdeath was his concern that I was getting too serious with the young man I wasdating and that he wanted me to stop going steady. Although the fellow I wasdating was L.D.S. and had been very kind and concerned through our wholetragedy, when he began wanting me to date again it was too much. My wholedesire was to be with my family, to help my mother all I could, and to do thingsthat would help me to grow spiritually.

One afternoon when I was working on my Sunday School lesson for thenext Sunday, he came over and wanted me to go somewhere with him. I tried toexplain to him that I didn't want to date anymore, but he couldn't seem tounderstand, and so I put it very bluntly and said we were finished. I felt badlybecause I didn't want to hurt him. He was a real nice person, but I was not readyto commit myself to someone. I didn't feel he was the one for me, and besides, Iwas only fourteen years old. I felt that I was being honest, but I was criticized forit by my “friends” and even ostracized by some. I felt selfish in some ways, but Iguess there are some things we are justified in being selfish about. Others my age

Phyllis’ Youth 81

kept after me to go with him again, and I did give in and accept a date after he wasdrafted into the Army and before he left. He began writing letters and I answereda few, but I wasn’t interested and didn’t continue with the correspondence.

Although I didn’t want to date, I was lonely that year and had a secret“crush” on someone I admired very much. He was my age, good looking, alwayson the honor roll, and upright in everything. His name–Ben Gardner. He was inmy Social Studies class and sat in the row next to mine.

Building Self-confidenceThat year I really worked on my studies and made the honor roll every time

but once. I was also very interested in athletic activities and began pitching insoftball and having much success with it. That helped build some much neededself-confidence. (One of the main motivating factors was to prove to myself that I

could be a good player. I knew I could, but no one else seemed to think so, at leastit seemed that way.) I was always one of the last ones to be picked for a team allthrough grammar school, and then after being picked, was stuck out in field orsomeplace that was thought of as being of little importance. Well, to overcome thatI had to prove to myself first that I could be of value to a team, so I talked mybrother Gene into practicing with me nearly every day after school. We'd play“burn out” until our hands stung. I learned to pitch a pretty swift ball.

I remember once, during my sophomore year, after pitching a winning gameduring the lunch hour I hurried into the girl's gym, showered and dashed off toclass. I was late and my desk was right in front on the far side of the room, but ourwin had me so buoyed up that I marched across the room with my pigtailsflopping, hurrachas (Mexican sandals) squeaking, and strutting like I owned the

A softball team I pitched for–I am on the first row second from the right.

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world. The teacher, Mr. Feeney, was half-standing, half-sitting on the corner of hisdesk and talking to the class when I came in. I had to walk between him and theclass and as I opened the door and entered the room he didn’t say anything, justfollowed me with his eyes clear across the room and when I was seated said, witha twinkle in his eye, “Its nice to have you with us, Miss Millett.” Kids snickeredand some laughed, but I was in my height of glory and it didn’t bother me. Self-confidence wasn't anything I was lacking at that time. I played softball on the girlsschool team and also during the summer on a City of Mesa ball team. I loved it!

World Conditions StabilizeIt was during my seventh grade year in school, 7 December 1941, that

World War II began for the United States. It was always a part of our lives. Mostprayers included petitions for the safety of our men and women serving in thearmed forces. At Church mention was made of those who were being held asprisoners of war or who had been killed in action. In June of 1944 the UnitedStates and its allies made a landing at Normandy, France and began the invasionof Europe. They were able to break the Nazi power and liberate Belgium, theNetherlands and France. On May 8, 1945 Germany surrendered ending the warin Europe.

What havoc the war wrought in the lives of millions of people that lived inthose battle areas. Britannica Junior Encyclopedia wrote: “In all, it is estimatedthat the Germans deliberately killed more than 10,000,000 civilians and prisonersof war. . . including about 5,700,000 Jews–nearly two-thirds of the Jewishpopulation that had lived in the various parts of Europe, not to mention the loss ofmillions of servicemen from all of the countries involved.” As soon as the war wasover the Church began sending relief supplies to the suffering Saints on theEuropean continent.

In April, preceding the end of the war in Europe, President Franklin D.Roosevelt died and Vice-President Harry S. Truman succeeded him as presidentof the United States. U. S. casualties were so high from the war in the Pacific thathe ordered the dropping of the atom bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, August 6, 1945,and another on Nagasaki, Japan August 9, 1945 inflicting horrible destruction inthose cities. Japan surrendered five days later, August 14, 1945, bringing to an endthe war in the Pacific. What a relief we all felt that the war was finally over andwe could return to a “normal” life without that dark cloud hanging over us. Ofcourse, for millions of people life would never be the same–especially for those wholost loved ones fighting for our freedom.

Holding Mother’s JobDuring the summer of 1946, I pitched for a girl's softball team in addition to

trying to fill my mother's shoes in the Irrigation office on the Indian Reservation.She had to have emergency major surgery, had be out of work for several months,and was in danger of losing her job. Her boss kindly consented to let me work asa substitute in her absence. We needed the money badly.

What a job! I was humbled fast. In filling out the application I made amistake on my birth date and put Jan. 25, 1945, and in checking it over my

Phyllis’ Youth 83

employer, who was very particular and eagle-eyed in looking for errors, missed ittoo, but a competitor of his who had seniority over him caught it. He called on thephone and said, “Hey, what are you doing–robbing the cradle? Never thoughtyou'd stoop to hiring a six months old baby.” Did that ever humiliate my boss andhe went over everything with a “fine-toothed comb” after that. He didn’t missanything. If there was one error on a letter it had to be completely retyped. On oneletter I made an error, had to type it over, and in the retyping made the same erroragain, at which he literally “blew up.” He said, “Anyone can make a mistake once,but no one is justified in making it twice.” Well, I learned a lot that summer.

On one occasion while working there I wasn't feeling very good and hadbeen taking dictation for several hours. He had been smoking all that time and thesmoke was blowing right in my face, but I didn't want to offend him by sayinganything, or moving, so I just sat and took it. Pretty soon several executives camein to talk to him and we were all sitting in a circle around his desk. They were allsmoking.

I began to get a funny feeling–weak and shaky. I had never felt quite likethat before, and stood up to go get a drink of water and a breath of fresh air. Ipassed out right in the middle of all of those men. I just missed hitting the cornerof my employer’s desk with my head, but hit the wood floor with a thud. The bosswas flabbergasted and didn't know what to do, so he got a glass of water and whenI started to come to, tried to give me a drink, but was humiliated, because he saidI spit it all back in his face and passed out again. He then carried me out to his carand took me to his home, which was a block away, and put me to bed. His wifetook care of me until I finally woke up a few hours later and summoned thestrength to drive the few miles home.

I was off work for several days and had a lump that started just above myleft eye and extended clear around the left side of my head to where it joins theneck at the back of my head. I had terrible headaches for weeks and it seemed toaffect my vision. I finally went to an eye doctor who prescribed glasses, which Ihave had to wear ever since. (He said I had astigmatism and some far–sightednessand that it had nothing to do with the fall. I never felt sure that that diagnosis wascorrect because I had not had problems before the fall.) That was a good lesson forme to learn–second-hand tobacco smoke is very harmful.

Spiritual FoodI was spiritually hungry that summer and read the conference talks in the

Improvement Era every noon hour while I ate my lunch. I began to desire aPatriarchal blessing and finally went to Patriarch Franklin Thomas Pomeroy andreceived one, on Sunday August 12, 1945. That blessing has been such a guide anda comfort to me ever since, and answered several questions that I had beenpondering but had spoken of to no one. I know, without a doubt that it was ablessing from my Heavenly Father, and not from Patriarch Pomeroy. It has givenme goals to work for, and the faith expressed in me by my Heavenly Father wasvery touching and humbling, and has caused me to want to do all in my power tojustify His confidence in me. I want to fulfill my mission here in mortality, and tobe able to return to His presence.

84 Phyllis’ Youth

Feeling Like CinderellaI was very excited about starting my junior year of school that fall, as I had

been chosen to be in the marching squad the spring before. It was the first march-ing squad for Mesa High since World War II started, and now that the war wasover there was money and transportation for such an activity. The first week ofschool we marched around and around in the gym and our teachers selected whothey felt were the ten best marchers. I was one of those ten. Then as the tenselected continued to march, the rest of the girls in the squad chose who theythought were the three best. I was one of those chosen, and was thrilled andexcited. There were a total of seventy-five girls in the marching squad.

That night a meeting was held. Those attending were: Mr. Harvey Taylor,High School Principal; Miss Marjorie Entz, Marching Squad Instructor; Mr.Walter W. Bond, Band Instructor; the band leader, the other two marching squadleaders and myself. First of all, Mr. Taylor announced that I had been chosen asthe main leader of the marching squad. He said that of the three chosen he hadselected the one with the highest grade-point average to have the honor of being themain leader.

He then announced what the costumes would be like; they were to be madeof gleaming white satin with high military hats made of the same material, skirtlength was to be mid-thigh, and each marcher would wear white shoes. Mycostume was to be white as were the other leaders, but the leaders’ uniforms wouldbe decorated so as to distinguish them from the other marchers. The uniforms ofthe two sub-leaders would be the same, but decorated differently from the mainleader. With the exception of the main leader, each girl would carry a six footAmerican flag as she marched in formation.

Mr. Taylor then went on to describe how he envisioned the first routine forthe first football game. He said the marchers would be divided in half, making twogroups, with the sub-leaders leading their groups into two lines extending from oneside of the football field to the other. The marchers would then turn, facing eachother, marching in place, holding their flags at an angle, while the main leadermarched from one side of the field to the other between them.

I didn’t sleep that night. I felt like Cinderella. It seemed like overnight I hadsuddenly gone from being a nobody to somebody, from someone who was knownby only a few friends, church members and relatives, to someone that practicallyeverybody in town knew by name and were watching. My mother’s boss even wentto the games and reported to her that I had excellent rhythm. The financial andsocial status of my family was no longer so important–my efforts to achieve werebeing recognized. If I was being held down, it was only because I was not exertingmyself to use my time, talents and abilities to accomplish worthwhile goals.

Each girl in the marching squad was given the white satin material alreadycut to size, and instructions to help her sew her own costume. I hurriedly sewedmine up, but when my Aunt Mary came to visit and I showed her my costume, sheturned it inside out, looked at the hurried job I had done, and asked if I would lether work on it. She painstakingly took out all of the seams and did a professionaljob of sewing it back up. I was supposed to design a way of decorating my costumethat would distinguish it from all the rest. Aunt Mary helped me with that too.

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High School JuniorHigh School Junior

High School Junior

She had some white parachute cord. Some of which she dyed red, and some blue.With that she made an attractive design on my costume.

The marching squad and the band performed during the half-time of all ofthe football games played on our home field and followed the team to most of theout of town games too. In addition we marched in all city parades. I loved it! Itwas so much fun to lift my head and knees high, stride out and lead the marcherskeeping in time with the rhythm of the music, and blowing the signals as I went.I enjoyed all of the attention I got, and I loved the stirring band music to marchto–still do! I just can’t keep my feet and legs still when I hear the rhythm ofmarching music.

Mesa High School Marching Squad–1945.I am marching center-front with the sub-leaders on either side.

86 Phyllis’ Youth

High School Senior

Our performance was highly praised. We were often compared to theRockettes of Radio City Music Hall in New York City (a long chorus line of girlsthat linked arms and marched to the front of the stage of one of the nation’s bestknown theaters). The Marching Squad had a very positive effect on school spirit.No other school in the state had a group that compared with it.

I learned a lot from my experiences in the marching squad that year, butone event stands out rather vividly. I participated in the different routines, but mymain job was to blow the whistle as I marched, signaling the changes in routine forthe rest of the squad. One week on a Thursday, before the football game on Friday,I got the flu and was very sick. By Friday I was running a high fever. I had beenright down in bed and called Miss Entz to tell her I would not be able to be there.She very politely, but firmly, informed me that there was no one trained to take myplace and that with the position I held on the squad, I had to be there and marchwhether I felt like it or not. So I got up out of bed, put on my short costume andwent out in the cold and marched. I found out thatwhen one holds a position of responsibility and othersare depending on you, it is necessary to followthrough whether you feel like it or not. Fortunately,I did not get worse. I’m thankful for that experience.

Reflections on “Growing Up”I guess when I was growing up, I was what

one would call a “loner.” I didn’t have any real closefriends, and I yearned to have a girl friend that Icould go places with and have fun with.

I struggled with feelings of suspicion andmistrust of people. After my father’s death it seemedlike so many people, even people close to us, that wethought were our friends, tried to take advantage ofmy mother because she was a widow. We were probably overly-sensitive andoverly critical, but those are the feelings I struggled with.

After my father’s talk to me when I was younger, about not being inferiorto any one, I kind-of developed an outer protective shell that made it look like Iwas self-confident, but inside I still struggled with feelings of self-consciousness andinadequacy. My clothes were still one of the main things that helped to cause thosefeelings. We did not have money to keep up with fashion. My mother had sewedfor us as we grew up, but sometime around my seventh or eighth grade years (12 -14 years of age) she made a dress for me that I didn’t feel good in, and I refused towear it. She said, “That’s it! You’re on your own. I will never sew another thingfor you.” And she never did. From that time on I made what I wore. I neverremember going into a store with the specific aim in mind of buying a dress.

Even before my father’s death times were hard, but afterwards they wereeven harder. As a junior and senior in high school, I did not even have a coat orjacket to keep warm with in winter, and no way was I going to say anything toMother. She was struggling to put food on the table and pay the bills. She was sopreoccupied with her own load that she really wasn’t aware of my needs. She had

Phyllis’ Youth 87

Family Group–Back row left to right: Mother, myself, Lois and Gene.Front row: Donald, Darrel and David.

a coat and would let me wear that if I was going somewhere where I needed tolook nice, and Ben had an extra Levi jacket that he gave me to wear to school. Thecrazy thing about it is, that with being in the top of my class through scholasticachievement, working to develop my talents, and having a measure of success inother areas of my life, I wasn’t bothered as much anymore about what my clotheslooked like or what people thought of me.

During my growing up years our extended family consisted mainly of ourMillett aunts and uncles. Oh, how often I heard them say to me, “Make somethingof yourself! Do something with your life!” The decision I made in the seventhgrade, when I was about twelve years old, after having read the book on self-improvement, was a good one. That decision to study, learn, and develop mytalents gave me good support.

Early in life I was blessed with the ability to see “cause and effect.” I couldsee that disobedience to parents and other authority figures in my life got me intotrouble, but I also could see that what I said had an effect on the way I was treatedby others. As a sophomore in high school I passed on some gossip once that cameback to haunt me and I decided that I had best guard my tongue, that if I didn’twant something to come back, I better not say it in the first place.

As I began to develop more self-confidence, I became more aware of otherpeople around me and their needs. I could see others that felt awkward and were

88 Phyllis’ Youth

struggling with feelings of inadequacy, people that got picked on, and I felt a desireto befriend them. I made an effort to learn the names of the other students andduring my junior year of high school, I felt that I knew the name of everyone in theschool. (We got our thousandth student that year.) That was a good feeling to beable to call people by their first name and greet them with a smile.

There was always so much to do, even as a teenager, that there was no timeto get into trouble. With the responsibilities I had at home after my father’s deathto take care of my sister and brothers, I didn’t have time for after-school activities.Mother took us to school, but I had to walk the two miles home from school eachday and have a meal ready for the family when Mother came home from work. Inthe evening there were school assignments to work on and other things to dobefore going to bed.

Television hadn’t yet been invented, or if it had, we hadn’t heard of it, andthere were no computers. We did have a radio and listened to a few programs thatwe enjoyed, but by and large, our recreation was of our own making; readingbooks, playing games, participating in sports activities, etc.

Being given a calling in the Church when I was thirteen years old alsosustained me and gave me a spiritual foundation. It was necessary for me to studythe lesson for each Sunday so I began to learn the truths of the Gospel and feel myHeavenly Father’s love and guidance in my life.

WHAT IS THIS FEELING CALLED LOVE?

What Is This Feeling Called LOVE?This surging of concern for

And faith in you?This gratitude for your understanding?

This peace and aura of safety?How has it come

Pouring into my heart from yoursWith such strength and surety?

Who could have guessedThat friendship would blossomIn our hearts so abundantly,

Reaching heavenward for expressionOf complete and total eternal oneness?

–Teresa Elene GardnerDancing with Words: A Collection of Poetry, Vol. I, p. 180