Sunday, September 4, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Preheat your ovens...
Choose your best recipe. Dust off the KitchenAid. Find your favorite pie pan, Bundt pan or 9x13. Get ready to bake it and bring it!
(Not to scare anyone off--everyone is welcome to participate--but be ready to bring your best dish. You'll be competing against someone who takes culinary competition so seriously she once tore her ACL in a Dutch oven cook-off.)
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The thirty-thousand-year history of Grandview Hill
As part of the 40th anniversary celebration, the 17th Ward’s primary invited four longtime residents to tell the children about life on the hill in the olden days. This was the talk I wanted to give to my ward’s primary sharing time. The primary president gave me five minutes and this, when I read it through dry run with a timer took twelve minutes. So I reduced the 30000 years to 100 years.
However, for the Grandview South community celebration blog, I give unto you, the original text,
THE THIRTY THOUSAND YEAR HISTORY OF GRANDVIEW HILL . . .
and the Soulier Family's place in that history, written for a Primary audience who knows street names and the concept of past years. Submitted by Rick Soulier
Sunday 24 July 2011
Thirty thousand years ago--a mere tick in the geological clock--this place where we live, this Grandview Hill was the end of a river that emptied into a huge Lake. Utah Lake and the Great Salt Lake are the only remains left of that lake. We do not know what the creatures living around this lake called it, because they left no written record. Scientists now call that lake long gone “Lake Bonneville.”
800 years ago [c 1200], the people in my Soulier family did not speak English, they spoke old French. They started farming in the foothills of the Alps Mountain Range in Europe. They grew crops in the rocky land and herded their animals up mountains and down the hills. For at least 400 years, the Soulier family lived in a village called Saint Germain.
My ancestors belonged to the Waldesian Religion. The rulers of Savoy and The Piedmont sometimes kept them safe. Eventually so did the Kings of Italy. President Brigham Young sent Apostle Lorenzo Snow to the Waldesian villages in the early 1850s to preach the restored gospel to them.
118 years ago [1893], my great-grandfather James Soulier left Italy with his family. Earning a living and making money was hard to do in Italy then. Many Italians and French left their countries for better lives here the United States. For the Soulier family, it was the old story--they arrived by ship at Ellis Island in New York City where they got certified. Then they moved to a place where they knew someone from their village. That someone they knew lived here in Provo, Utah.
100 years ago [1911], my grandfather and grandmother, Henry and Lisa Soulier, bought a farm and built a brick home at what is now call 85 East 2000 South Street in Orem. Neither the street name nor Orem existed then.
Henry and Lisa planted peach and apricot trees and raised a family of four boys and a girl. They watered the trees and plants, trimmed them, and harvested fruit from them. They sold peaches and apricots. They grew grape vines and made grape juice. Very old grape juice.
My father Clarence Soulier started to milk the family cows at age six, and his father also taught him how to prune and water trees and pick the fruit. His father taught him to grow grapes. His Future Farmers of America teacher (Lincoln School, Orem) taught him to grow raspberries.
74 years ago [1937], my father bought a farm at 1650 West 1460 North Street Grandview Hill. Westridge Elementary School and the Rotary Park are now found where the farm once was. My father planted apple, pear, and peach trees, grape rows, raspberry patches, gardens of flowers and vegetables on his farm. He constructed farm buildings. Father trimmed the trees in winter. He sprayed the trees with stuff to get rid of the bugs in summer. He watered them. He and his workers picked the fruit in Septembers and Octobers.
70 years ago [c 1941], Father planted that row of tall old tall pine trees east of Westridge school and north of the parking lot. The pine trees were all about this size (Rick indicates the size of seedlings, not more than 12 inches tall).
63 years ago, [18 July 1949], Father married my mother Cora Herman.
61 years ago [January 1950], he built our first home. The address was 1650 West 1460 North St.--where the Rotary Park restroom now stands. His barn stood about 200 feet north of the last pine tree of the big row of pine trees.
60 plus years ago {c 1942], my father built a white wood building that he called a “packing shed.” It stood where the tennis courts now stands at the corner of 1500 West and 1460 North. In that building, he and his workers (including me) sorted the fruit by size using a noisy machine. Big. Medium. Small. Tiny. We put the fruit in baskets and boxes, and placed them in big refrigerated cooler rooms to stay fresh until they sold. I helped sell fruit when I was a boy.
I arrived here 55 years ago [September 1956]. 1460 North Street did not have sidewalks when I walked to and from Grandview School. The neighborhood had a few homes, and many open fields where kids played. Other farmers owned fruit trees and fields on Grandview Hill, too.
My father liked to do concrete in the spring, so I would help him with those projects. In spring we would burn the dead old weeds along ditch banks so that water could flow to the trees. I sometimes drove tractors and trucks and watered trees when I got older.
In 1969, Provo City School District and Provo City bought my father’s farm for an elementary school and public park. Father farmed the land until 1977. The city and the district allowed people to cut down the trees for fire wood in November 1977. Westridge Elementary School opened for its first students in August 1980.
41 years ago when my family moved into the house where I now live [April 1970], the neighborhood consisted of 1460 North, 1400 North, 1750 West Streets. The beginning of 1500 West Street was a dirt lane lined with wild roses and tall shade trees and fruit trees. 1320 North Street was a dirt road with an open ditch for irrigation water and no sidewalk.
The Souliers started joining the Church one at a time beginning in the 1930s. When I was a baby and toddler [1956-1961], I attended church in an older chapel on Columbia Lane, Provo. It belonged to the Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day Saints then. Today the Baptist Church owns it.
When I was a cunning little shaver [1961-1968], I attended church in the large tan church on 1350 West Street. My father baptized me in that building’s font [July 1964]. The church held Primary meetings in the middle of the week in the afternoon after school. The primary used The Articles of Faith as a frame of study. I remember that on our birthdays, boys and girls contributed coins to a bank in the shape of Primary Children’s Hospital. We sent that money to the hospital for the care of the poor.
39 years ago when I was a priest [November 1972], the ward moved into this building. At that time The Church held Sunday school classes separately for both the adults and the children. In fact, I remember blessing the sacrament for the Junior Sunday School at a desk placed to the podium’s left.
Today, I remember with love my grandparents and parents--all gone. Our first house now sits on 2100 West Street. My father’s packing shed now sits on 2000 South Street in Orem. New owners moved them in the 1970s. I remember the open fields and the fruit trees, white with blossoms in springs, and glorious in gold and orange color in Octobers past.
The past is only the present a second ago. When you get good at writing, I hope you will write down what you do here in your homes and church so that the children of the future will remember you too.
However, for the Grandview South community celebration blog, I give unto you, the original text,
THE THIRTY THOUSAND YEAR HISTORY OF GRANDVIEW HILL . . .
and the Soulier Family's place in that history, written for a Primary audience who knows street names and the concept of past years. Submitted by Rick Soulier
Sunday 24 July 2011
Thirty thousand years ago--a mere tick in the geological clock--this place where we live, this Grandview Hill was the end of a river that emptied into a huge Lake. Utah Lake and the Great Salt Lake are the only remains left of that lake. We do not know what the creatures living around this lake called it, because they left no written record. Scientists now call that lake long gone “Lake Bonneville.”
800 years ago [c 1200], the people in my Soulier family did not speak English, they spoke old French. They started farming in the foothills of the Alps Mountain Range in Europe. They grew crops in the rocky land and herded their animals up mountains and down the hills. For at least 400 years, the Soulier family lived in a village called Saint Germain.
My ancestors belonged to the Waldesian Religion. The rulers of Savoy and The Piedmont sometimes kept them safe. Eventually so did the Kings of Italy. President Brigham Young sent Apostle Lorenzo Snow to the Waldesian villages in the early 1850s to preach the restored gospel to them.
118 years ago [1893], my great-grandfather James Soulier left Italy with his family. Earning a living and making money was hard to do in Italy then. Many Italians and French left their countries for better lives here the United States. For the Soulier family, it was the old story--they arrived by ship at Ellis Island in New York City where they got certified. Then they moved to a place where they knew someone from their village. That someone they knew lived here in Provo, Utah.
100 years ago [1911], my grandfather and grandmother, Henry and Lisa Soulier, bought a farm and built a brick home at what is now call 85 East 2000 South Street in Orem. Neither the street name nor Orem existed then.
Henry and Lisa planted peach and apricot trees and raised a family of four boys and a girl. They watered the trees and plants, trimmed them, and harvested fruit from them. They sold peaches and apricots. They grew grape vines and made grape juice. Very old grape juice.
My father Clarence Soulier started to milk the family cows at age six, and his father also taught him how to prune and water trees and pick the fruit. His father taught him to grow grapes. His Future Farmers of America teacher (Lincoln School, Orem) taught him to grow raspberries.
74 years ago [1937], my father bought a farm at 1650 West 1460 North Street Grandview Hill. Westridge Elementary School and the Rotary Park are now found where the farm once was. My father planted apple, pear, and peach trees, grape rows, raspberry patches, gardens of flowers and vegetables on his farm. He constructed farm buildings. Father trimmed the trees in winter. He sprayed the trees with stuff to get rid of the bugs in summer. He watered them. He and his workers picked the fruit in Septembers and Octobers.
70 years ago [c 1941], Father planted that row of tall old tall pine trees east of Westridge school and north of the parking lot. The pine trees were all about this size (Rick indicates the size of seedlings, not more than 12 inches tall).
63 years ago, [18 July 1949], Father married my mother Cora Herman.
61 years ago [January 1950], he built our first home. The address was 1650 West 1460 North St.--where the Rotary Park restroom now stands. His barn stood about 200 feet north of the last pine tree of the big row of pine trees.
60 plus years ago {c 1942], my father built a white wood building that he called a “packing shed.” It stood where the tennis courts now stands at the corner of 1500 West and 1460 North. In that building, he and his workers (including me) sorted the fruit by size using a noisy machine. Big. Medium. Small. Tiny. We put the fruit in baskets and boxes, and placed them in big refrigerated cooler rooms to stay fresh until they sold. I helped sell fruit when I was a boy.
I arrived here 55 years ago [September 1956]. 1460 North Street did not have sidewalks when I walked to and from Grandview School. The neighborhood had a few homes, and many open fields where kids played. Other farmers owned fruit trees and fields on Grandview Hill, too.
My father liked to do concrete in the spring, so I would help him with those projects. In spring we would burn the dead old weeds along ditch banks so that water could flow to the trees. I sometimes drove tractors and trucks and watered trees when I got older.
In 1969, Provo City School District and Provo City bought my father’s farm for an elementary school and public park. Father farmed the land until 1977. The city and the district allowed people to cut down the trees for fire wood in November 1977. Westridge Elementary School opened for its first students in August 1980.
41 years ago when my family moved into the house where I now live [April 1970], the neighborhood consisted of 1460 North, 1400 North, 1750 West Streets. The beginning of 1500 West Street was a dirt lane lined with wild roses and tall shade trees and fruit trees. 1320 North Street was a dirt road with an open ditch for irrigation water and no sidewalk.
The Souliers started joining the Church one at a time beginning in the 1930s. When I was a baby and toddler [1956-1961], I attended church in an older chapel on Columbia Lane, Provo. It belonged to the Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day Saints then. Today the Baptist Church owns it.
When I was a cunning little shaver [1961-1968], I attended church in the large tan church on 1350 West Street. My father baptized me in that building’s font [July 1964]. The church held Primary meetings in the middle of the week in the afternoon after school. The primary used The Articles of Faith as a frame of study. I remember that on our birthdays, boys and girls contributed coins to a bank in the shape of Primary Children’s Hospital. We sent that money to the hospital for the care of the poor.
39 years ago when I was a priest [November 1972], the ward moved into this building. At that time The Church held Sunday school classes separately for both the adults and the children. In fact, I remember blessing the sacrament for the Junior Sunday School at a desk placed to the podium’s left.
Today, I remember with love my grandparents and parents--all gone. Our first house now sits on 2100 West Street. My father’s packing shed now sits on 2000 South Street in Orem. New owners moved them in the 1970s. I remember the open fields and the fruit trees, white with blossoms in springs, and glorious in gold and orange color in Octobers past.
The past is only the present a second ago. When you get good at writing, I hope you will write down what you do here in your homes and church so that the children of the future will remember you too.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
A little piece of Grandview in New York City
Submitted by Elder and Sister DaleboutThirty-seven years ago, our little family of five moved into our home at 1559 W. 1170 N. on Grandview Hill. I remember David Dalton saying that Grandview Hill was a special place to live and that really special people moved here. We have certainly been blessed to live here and associate with very special people.
There are a couple of "first impression" memories that come to mind. Not long after we moved into our home, we went to a stake dance. It was a dance for everyone, youth, as well as older people. As we walked into the cultural hall, it was alive with people who were dancing and having a great time. The thing that impressed us was that young people were dancing with older people. Randy Stokes was a teenager at that time, and he was dancing with an older person. We had such a good impression of the stake. Also, at one of our ward parties, we remember seeing Monita Robison dancing across the stage in a tutu. (I, Evelyn, had taken a class at BYU from Clarence Robison and had heard him talk about his wife.) It was really interesting to see Monita be such a "cut up."
Our street (1170 North) was alive with children. At one point, the streets of 1170 North and 1650 West housed 80 children. As our children were growing up, it was so impressive to see how all those children played together. In the summer, there were up to forty kids playing kick ball or other street games on the street of 1170 North. High school kids were playing with kids of all ages, down to five years of age. Many of them would congregate on our front porch and watch the games. Grandview Hill was a great place to raise children.
The Wood family lived across the street from us. They had four great boys. Three of those boys married girls from our ward. Ethan Wood married Stacey Dennis, who lived across the street from him. Travis Wood married Rachel Laursen, who lived a couple of blocks away. Ryan Wood married our daughter, Jenny. And, we weren't the only family who had children marry children within the ward. Bill and Vicki Frances grew up together and married each other also.
We remember when the benches in the chapel were filled with 12 Liechtys, 12 Lunds, 10 Bensons, 10 Vellingas, 10 Francis' and many other families with just a few less than that. Our primaries were packed with children; our young men and young women program was also impressive. And, when those children grew up, there were tons of missionaries. Grandview Hill has a heritage of wonderful families, who produced really great people.
We are now serving a mission in the New York New York North Mission. It seems that when you are in the church, your world becomes very small. A few weeks ago, we attended our ward (Inwood 1st Ward). David Liechty and his wife and daughter have moved into our ward. David was a friend of our son, Scott. Suzy Liechty (David's mother) was also there to help David and his family move. Our daughter, Jennifer, and her baby were visiting us. So, Jenny, Suzy and I were sitting together. In Relief Society, a new member of the ward stood up and told us her name was Lisa Vellinga. We all looked at each other and said: "She has to be related to our Vellinga Family on Grandview Hill." After the meeting, we went over to talk to her and we found out that she is Jed Vellinga's wife. Jed grew up in our ward in Grandview, and is the son of Clarence and Annette Vellinga. So, here we are in the Inwood 1st Ward in New York City, and we have Liechtys, Vellingas and Dalebouts together!
Grandview has been our home for 37 years. We love it there and love the people who live there. We hope to be there the rest of our lives. So, even though we will miss the grand celebration, we wish you all the best. We love you.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Harvest on the hill
Submitted by Melody Newey
The first time I saw the home at 1375 North 1750 West my heart almost flew from my chest. "That's my house!" I thought, as I stopped the car in the middle of the street and gawked at the For Sale sign in the front yard. I was traveling north toward University Mall after taking my daughter, Lauren, to piano lessons at Cindy Smith's home.
It was 1996. My children, Lauren, Luke, Sara and I were living in a lovely smaller home near Kiwanis Park in east Provo and we adored our neighborhood and neighbors. But I had been feeling a need to move to a new home (with two bathrooms instead of just one!) and make a fresh start. I was recently divorced and swamped with responsibilities of single parenthood, nursing school and a part-time job. I was in no position to purchase a home, but my desire to find a way to buy what was known as "The Burton Home" was almost unmanageable. I couldn't stop thinking about it.
The massive walnut trees, the iris, day lilies, statice and grapes lining the south boundary were breathtaking. Virginia creeper and English ivy covered the exterior north wall and crept up a corner of the house near the entry. Pear, cherry, apple and apricot trees surrounded the structure and the entire property was flanked by evergreens. The home itself, with those diamond-shape wooden grids in the windows looked like a perfectly peaceful cottage. When we eventually moved in I heard some of the neighborhood kids refer to it as the Snow White House.
The short version of the rest of the story goes like this: The For Sale sign disappeared and I assumed the home had been sold. I actually cried about that when it happened, but moved ahead with life. What else could I do, really? I kept checking the newspaper for other homes. Lauren kept on practicing piano and I kept driving her to and from Cindy's home every week. About a eight months later the For Sale sign re-appeared. By then I had finished school and was working full time.
Within the first few weeks of my new job I was talking with co-workers about a delightful older home I was purchasing in the Grandview area. One of the women in the group spoke up as I described the place. Her eyes lit up and she said, "My parents built that house!" Zoetta Johnston (her maiden name) had spent her early childhood in the home! She told me it began as a single level, below ground structure. Later, as the Johnston family grew and as they could afford it, they added the upper level. She talked about the cherry orchards, irrigation turns and about the unique bricks the house was built with, "Made right here in town at the old Provo Foundry." She remembered how proud her mother was of the self-designed rock wall and mantle over the fireplace in the living room. She remembered the giant coal burning furnace and laughed when I told her the coal scuttle was still there. It was a wonderful connection. And wonderful to learn from Zoetta some of the history of our home.
As I spent more time here I felt a connection with another woman who lived in the house for many years raising her family of--what was it--seven or eight children? She was a gardener, like me. Leah Ashby once told me about Mrs. Burton. Leah said, "I have never seen a woman with more suntanned forearms--from all that mowing and gardening." I haven't met Mrs. Burton but she must have loved the earth because she began what became a sort of Eden for me and my children. It was a place of new beginnings, a beautiful place rich with green, growing, nourishing things. The fruit, the nuts and flowers--the very land itself--fed me. Body and soul. And in turn, I was able to do the same for my growing family.
I always felt it was providence that brought us here.
My children were nine, thirteen and fifteen years old when we moved here in July of 1997. Since then, all three have become happy, healthy, married adults creating "Edens" of their own.
Last week I was transplanting a few things in the cool morning hours beneath the shade of walnut trees. I couldn't help feeling grateful again for this place. I couldn't help writing about it.
Harvest on The Hill
by Melody Newey
We joke about soil and rocks
in this place where we live.
But really it's about bread,
the Bread of Life.
We build houses on foundations of
orchards and farmland--
so much work, so many dreams
cultivated, harvested for
a hundred years or more.
We build our lives on this bedrock,
this firm foundation;
And the house on the rock still stands.
You and I were planted here--
by our parents or grandparents
or because chance, circumstance or
providence moved us to this fertile ground
from where we were before.
Yes, the soil matters.
But it's the soul of this place,
the rock on which we stand,
our daily bread that nourishes us,
fills our homes with light and delight.
You and I are growing here--
while the land, the rain and sunshine
keep us for our Keeper,
make of us a worthy harvest,
His harvest on the hill.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
If a picture says a thousand words...
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...then not much else is needed to explain what a kick I get out of some of the surprising sights and scenes one may stumble upon about our Grandview neighborhood. I suspect I'm not the only one who derives a bit of pleasure and amusement from the unexpected. From runaway roosters to meandering turtles--and, well, an occasional llama parade--I'm sure many of you have stories to tell, of both the simple and the sublime. We'd love to hear them (please direct submissions to the email address on the sidebar). Submissions may be gently edited for space and content.
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