Cataracts

This is really my first attempt at writing since my cataract surgery on the 18th of this month - a week ago tomorrow.  My vision is still difficult, not because of the lens but because of the disparity between the vision in both eyes, although the new lens, cornea, and pressure in my left eye are still healing and not as clear as it will become over the next few weeks.  However, I have a sense that the further I go in time from this event the harder it will be to recall the particulars, or at the very least, the less miraculous it will become, and I don't want that to happen.  So it is my endeavor at this moment to detail these events here.

I was first diagnosed with cataracts back in 2000.  In 2001, on our way to Kentucky, an optomotrist that I saw in Denver noted that they were pretty significant then but they weren't "ripe" yet.  The years passed and every eye exam noted that they were still present.  LOL 

In November 2010 I was playing for the choir in our ward and was noticing that I was having great difficulty in seeing the music.  At first I thought it was just lighting problems at the piano but even at home I was having difficulty.  These problems were acuity related and had come rather suddenly.  I wondered if it was just "hormonal" changes and adopted a wait and see attitude.  By April I knew I could no longer put it off and made an appointment with an optomotrist at the Eye Care Center here in Oak Ridge.  Upon examination he was astounded that my prescription had changed so dramatically - for the better!  He was at a loss to explain the sudden shift but urged me to see my primary care physician because the most likely reason was blood sugar disturbances.  I saw Dr. May and she ran the requisite tests and determined that my blood sugar was just fine.  I reported back to Dr. Kunemen and he monitored my vision over the next few months but things had seemed to stabilize and I was once again "seeing" with new glasses.

In November 2011 we gathered in Wisconsin for a family reunion at the Dells and spent Thanksgiving together as a family.  It was a wonderful time that I will always cherish.  As that week came to an end I drove Rich to the airport in Milwaukee so that he could fly home to Tennessee and I made preparations to travel to Utah so that I could spend Christmas with my Dad and Felicia.  Rich would join me later in the month.  Desi and Mike left a couple of days earlier than I did...in hind sight I probably should have followed them.  When I got into Omaha it was dusk and suddenly the glare of the lights and the darkness of the night left me unable to see signs, distances, and the road.  I called Rich in a panic as physically I had been prepared to drive for several more hours but my vision left me terrified - I couldn't see where I was going!  He, of course, counseled me to find a hotel and continue on in the daylight and that is what I did.

In December he flew in to Salt Lake and I went to pick him up.  It was nearly midnight when his flight arrived.  When he got into the car and I pulled away from the curb and moved into the traffic he became agitated because I was going slowly.  I hadn't realized that was the case...but I was compensating for my lack of vision.  He commanded me to stop and he took over the driving!  LOL

Over the course of 2011 I continued to notice a decline in my vision.  What had once been only a problem in darkness was fast becoming a problem in daylight.  In November (I'm beginning to see a pattern with the Novembers! LOL) I was playing for Sacrament Meeting and, not having a knowledge of what the hymns were beforehand, I looked up at the Hymn Board and turned to the opening hymn and started playing the introduction.  I had barely finished it when the chorister, Mara Petersen, walked over to me and told me that wasn't the correct hymn and gave me the right one.  All through that hymn I realized that I was in trouble...I was having difficulty with seeing the music and I had definitely not seen the correct numbers on the board!  During Sunday School that very day I tracked down Brother Tommy Dahl, an opthamologist in our ward, and asked him questions about cataract surgery and if he was seeing new patients.  He assured me that he would be able to see me and that I would be able to exercise the day after the surgery, except for water aerobics and weight training...that would be a week to 10 days out.  Sister Loosli, in our ward, works at the Eye Center, told me that she would look on Brother Dahl's schedule and see if she could get me in as soon as possible.  A week later I had my first appointment. 

At the appointment my eyes were dilated and history was taken.  As the exam continued Tommy told us that he had suspected that I would have some problems but he was surprised at how bad things really were.  The cataracts were very dense, especially in my left eye.  Compounding the cataracts were the degrees to which my vision was impaired by both far and near-sightedness.  Rich joked that he would just get me a white cane and a tin cup, to which I responded that my vision wasn't that bad and that plenty of other people had worse, to which Tommy responded, "Not in this country!"  Lol  He told me that I was "Big Letter E" blind and not legal to drive.  I was amazed...even astounded.  I had known I was having difficulty but I wasn't prepared to hear that news.  It explained a whole lot about what I was experiencing.  We left his office knowing that finding a surgical date with the holidays fast approaching would be difficult.  I was also reluctant to have it during the holidays because Cherstin and Dan and Joey and Carlie were going to be joining us. 

As it turned out the pre-op exam was scheduled for the 14th of January with surgery to be done on the 18th.  It seemed like a long time away but very close at the same time.  As I prepared for the holidays I found myself more and more frustrated at little things.  Shopping was difficult...lights, the "fog" or "haze" of the cataracts, and general lack of acuity were tiring and I found that I had a feeling of being somewhat disconnected.  More and more I felt unsafe and uncertain about driving, cooking, sewing, reading, or even participating in the games and puzzles that the kids were playing.  I really think I was beginning to understand how Grandma Bainbridge felt, in small measure, as the disconnectedness was disconcerting to say the least.  It is hard to enjoy the moment when you cannot see the moment well.

As the holidays ended and the pre-op exam approached I found myself wondering what I was going to discover once the surgery was done.  Was I going to find that I was even more morbidly obese than I thought?  Would I discover that the makeup that I had been applying all these years was garish and clown-like?  Was my house clean?  Would I discover that the quilts that I had loved making were ugly and my kids wondering what I had been thinking?  What had I been missing and who had I not been seeing?  What if the mistakes I made at the piano keyboard were not vision related but because I just couldn't play well?  What if the problems I was having weren't the cataracts afterall?

At my pre-op appointment measurements were taken of my eye to determine which type of lens might be most advantageous.  I learned that even though I have an astigmatism it isn't very bad...negligible really...and if they were to put in the toric lens that corrects for it, the astigmatism would actually be much worse.  That was pretty good news.  The difficulty that I have with both near and far-sightedness left me with two options - the basic lens that my insurance would pay for but would only correct for near-sightedness - I would need to have glasses for reading and close work.  Or, a lens that was $2200 that would correct for both near and far-sightedness - and I would need TWO of those lenses!  As I weighed those options, Dr. Dahl shared the fact that people who are basically farsighted adjust pretty well to the basic lens because they are used to having to use reading glasses.  That made perfect sense to me.  However, I have worn glasses or contact lenses for 50 years and it has only been the last 10 years that I have needed to have correction for the farsightedness.  In 50 years I have never misplaced my glasses, never lost them...in fact...they are the last thing I take off and the first thing I put on each day...and if truth be told...much of the time it is Rich that takes them off or I find that I have been sleeping with them on.  And, as the problems have advanced I have gotten in the habit of putting them on my head when I have needed to read or do handwork.  Suddenly I realized that I would probably be looking for glasses a lot...how many pairs would it take to equal $2200...$4400?  Over the rest of my life?  I decided to go with the more expensive lens.  I hope that was a good choice!  LOL

My initial exam had shown that I had an increase in interocular pressure, especially in my left eye.  Dr. Dahl had run a scan to determine what it was doing, if anything, to the macula.  It was causing some degree of "flattening" and left untreated would become a problem.  However, he believed that the pressure might be a result of the density of the cataract and that once it was removed, over time, the pressure would return to normal.  He reiterated that in the pre-op appointment and told me that they would be monitoring it over a period of time.  And, the upper respiratory and sinus infection that I had been dealing with since the first of December would not necessarily delay surgery unless I developed a temperature or my mucus changed to green or other colors that indicated infection.  I was elated with that news!  Everything was a go!

The day of surgery Rich gave me a blessing.  I was truly comforted by it.  Even though I really believed that everything would be okay there is such comfort in having those feelings confirmed by the power of the Holy Ghost.  I prayed for Brother Dahl...I knew from our conversations that he would feel some degree of pressure because of our association.  I didn't want him to feel uncertain, worried, anxious, or hesitant in any way.  I knew there were risks that everything might not go as foreseen but those were my risks to take...not his.

I had been expecting that my surgery would go like my Mom's had gone.  By the post-op the next day she was seeing 20/20.  Dr. Dahl had warned me that probably wouldn't be the case for me, that it would take longer as Mom had just been far-sighted.  Even though he had warned me I still thought otherwise!  LOL  He had also told me that I would probably not find my glasses any help in my post operative state, even with the left lens removed.  He was pretty certain that the visual distortion would be severe enough that I would find it preferable to go without glasses. 

As they wheeled me into surgery I was feeling pretty calm.  I certainly felt like I was in good hands.  I didn't anticipate any real difficulty.  Dr. Dahl had warned me that even though they had taken measurements, the fact was that once they got into the eye the cataract could be much deeper, bigger, and denser than the measurements had shown, and that meant that they would have to "dig" a little deeper to get it out.  And that was indeed what happened.  Even though my eye was open the entire time - I so wish I could have seen it - I didn't.  My right eye was draped so that eye couldn't help and all my left eye registered was a very bright light and and very pink center in that light...I would assume that was blood but I don't really know and didn't think to ask.  The surgery is relatively quick - just a 15+ minute procedure really - from start to finish.  At the end of it I realized I could see little holes in the ceiling tiles...I hadn't noticed them before.

Within a half hour or so I was ready to come home.  Rich was there with me to get the post-op instructions and we left.  It felt good to be home...comforting.  I settled onto the couch with my eye shield and drops that had to be put in every two hours and promptly went to sleep.  I dozed off and on all day and slept well that night.  I think I had been more anxious than I wanted to admit because the sleep that night was really restful - unlike the night before.  LOL

The next day we went back for the post-op exam.  Everything looked good as far as placement of the lens, etc.  However, my visual acuity was not good...it wasn't what I had been expecting.  The interocular pressure had risen 10 points and Dr. Dahl prescribed another drop to be added to the regimen to deal with that.  The cornea was cloudy and swelling was leaving me unable to see well.  That has gradually improved as the days have gone on.  I have a follow-up appointment this coming Friday, the 27th and I hope to be able to resume all normal activity and have a date for the other eye.  Until the other eye is done though I will probably continue to experience a degree of nausea now and then and the frequent feeling that I am walking on shifting sand - both are a result of the visual disparity between my two eyes.

After we left the Eye Center we drove to Wal Mart for Rich to get something.  I would have stayed in the car but I had been wanting to go to a paint store ever since I had the surgery the day before.  Mom had been amazed at how vibrant the colors were after her surgery.  However, what I noticed was how white everything was.  The white was so white that it seemed to glow.  I felt like I could understand Joseph Smith's description of his experience with Moroni - "he had on a loose robe of most exquisite whiteness.  It was whiteness beyond anything earthly...exceedingly white and brilliant."  I wanted to find paint chips that would demonstrate what I was experiencing.  The only problem was that when I got into the paint section I soon learned that it wasn't the "white" that I was experiencing - it was the "light".  Everything in my right eye is darker...yellower...browner...darker.  The whites are not white - they are more beige - and the other colors are deeper - less light.  I cannot find words to describe the light that my left eye sees...it just is...and it is wonderful!  And more importantly I cannot help but recognize the importance of light...something that I thought I understood but didn't.  I thought I had been walking in light...but I wasn't.  Suddenly I want to understand the eye, how it works, the structures, the lenses, the brain...I would love to just call Brother Dahl and have him give me a crash course in opthamology.  LOL  And, just as suddenly I want to understand light, its' properties, refraction, color, wave, how it works.  And, since I have been unable to read, I have been left to ponder for the last week about the significance of what has happened and liken it to the scriptures and to myself.  Suddenly I want to read all the scriptures and study the words of the prophets to learn about the eye and light...and especially about the Light of the World.  Suddenly I "see" and understand more about the significance of "eyes that see" and the "flood of light" that changed the world.  I "see" so many applications on both a macro and micro level that I am afraid that I might miss something.  And, I worry that the further I get from this experience I will take for granted this very special and miraculous gift and my "eyes" will become darkened again with spiritual cataracts.  And I really worry that we, in America, have become "blinded" by our own sophistry and hedonism.  I suspect that as I search and ponder more this will be a subject of great "insight" to me...at least I hope so.

Happy Birthday! and Technology

The years just seem to keep rolling by - and I guess that's a pretty good thing considering the alternative!  LOL  January is always a time of New Beginnings and this January is no exception...except...that I closed 2011 and opened 2012 as sick as I have been in a very long time.  I am beginning to feel better but that is after weeks of not, two courses of antibiotics, and coughing up my lungs every few minutes!  I told Rich, "Could you imagine what I would look like if I didn't know how to 'sniff' or 'blow'?"  I have been nothing short of a fountain of green, brown, yellow, and bloody gunk!  Ugh!!!  I seriously worried that my cataract surgery would be delayed if I couldn't get over this but my appointment last week dispelled that worry and surgery is a go for Wednesday!  Hallelujah!!!!

Back in December I received the following post on FaceBook from my cousin, Gayle May Roskelley Brown.
     "Funny thing happened yesterday!  I was looking for photos that were posted already on the Internet; of my ancestors.  I tried to find one of grandma; but an interesting blog came up instead about somebody's grandma, so I started to read.  Then it hit me...Who is writing about MY grandma Roskelley? ha ha ha Couldn't figure out who you were until I was near the end.  Wonderful tribute.  You shared info I didn't know.  You've got to share more with me, OK? Gayle"

Then, on January 8, 2012 I received another post from Gayle:
     "Dear Karen,
     "My father NEVER talked about his growing-up days, or anything about family.  He HATED genealogy, and was ashamed of polygamy.
      "I know Grandma loved her grandmother, Julia Elnora, and once told me she had a great sense of humor.  Do you know anything about her?
      "What was Grandm's mother like? (Julia Abigail Smith)
      "What did Julia die of?
      "Were the other men she married Mormon?
      "Why didn't Julia keep and raise Grandma herself?
      "How did Grandma and Grandpa meet each other?
      "When did Granpa start drinking?  Why?
      "What was the date of their first divorce?
      "Why did it happen?
      "How did they get back together?
      "What was the date, and where did they get married the 2nd time?
      "And the date of the 2nd divorce?
      "Grandma is still sealed to him isn't she?
      "Can you tell me anything about Grandpa's other wife?
      "Did you know that somebody has sealed her to grandpa too?
      "Can you write a comprehensive history on Grandma for all of us?  :o) LOL
      "Write to me on my email. gbrown538@aol.com  Thanks"

Well - a couple of months ago I started to go through some of the things that I had collected and brought home from Mom and Dad's.  I had copied the autobiographies I found of Grandma and then texted them to family.  My hope was that someone would read them and find important information and get to know her better.  To my surprise they were well received.  I had been under the impression that everyone in the extended family had them - but it appears that is not the case.  So, I have copied them here and will refer interested parties here to get them.  I fully intend to answer all of Gayle's questions but not right now - I had cataract surgery on Wednesday and my vision is really not very good at the moment.  By next week it should be much improved and maybe I'll attempt it then.  In the meantime I hope you enjoy what I do have, Gayle.

Autobiography of Wanda Bingham Roskelley

I've got to the end of my days, till I can hardly tell who I am. I was born, Wanda Bingham, that was the name they gave me, no middle name. My Mother was the second girl, Julia Abigale Smith, of my Grandmother Julia Elnora Smith Merrill. Mother had quite a bit to contend with, with her older brother, and the two gave my Grandmother a really hard time. Mother was headstrong, I guess because she had been tormented by her brother older than she was, each one tried to get the best of the other one.

Mother started going out with Parley Pratt Bingham, Jr., and they decided they wanted to get maried. She was only 15 and I think Dad must have been 17 or something of that sort. My Mother's Mother and my Father's Father got together and talked the situation over and to see if they could disuade these two head strong kids, that they should wait a while and not get married. But to no avail. They were determined they were going to get married. So Grandfather and Grandmother finally decided that it would be best to let them get married, or they may have a situation on their hands that would be worse to deal with. They were married on 4 Jan 1899 in the Logan Temple.

They lived on the Ranch until after I was born, because I was told that my Father was working on the Ranch and my Mother took me out to see what he was doing. He wanted to have a little help from her, so she laid me down on a pile of straw and there was an old sow feeding her babies there. When they came back to get me, I was one right along with babies, as I was nursing the sow - well I don't know if it lasted very long before they found me - so I always felt that I had a little bit of pig in me.

Mother was 16 when I was born. She was too young a mother really. I don't know how long they had been married when they moved to Ogden to live. I was awfully young to remember anything about the house, but I think I do remember something. There was an outside stairway which my mother verfied before she died, when I talked to her about it, that led up to the kitchern. I can remember the door that went out there and Mother trying to keep the screen door closed so that I wouldn't go out and fall down the stairs. That was the only thing I remember about Ogden. My Mother about this time, divorced my Father and she took me back to Smithfield, Ut to her Mother.

Apparently she had communication with her eldest sister, Elnora, who lived in the Teton Basin in Idaho. Elnora had lost two babies prematurely, so she had no children of her own. She waid that she would take me and be happy to take care of me while my Mother found work. I lived with her for two and one-half years and my Aunt was the same as my Mother to me. She did for me all the things that my Mother did for me. My Mother went away from home to work and worked at various places in Idaho and Montana where she met a man seventeen years her senior.

I was visiting in Smithfield, Utah with my Grandmother and next to her house was a stone wall. The stone was put up and kind of plastered over a little bit, but the plaster wasn't very good and it didn't last and the stones were knocked out clear through, making quite a space, as big as the piano there. Grandmother's house was close to the wall, so I crawled through the hole and into the Roskelley property of Aunt Mary Jane. Behind her house and a little to the south of it was a little log cabin, the door was open. I went to sit on the step as I had been picking flowers and here was the biggest pile of asparagas. It had been cut and layed on the step and I thought, "how nice, I'll take this home to Grandma, she likes asparagas." It never ented my head that I was taking something that belonged to someone else. I thought that someone had just left it there for me. I never thought of stealing it, or anything of that sort. I took it over to Grandma and she said, "oh you shouldn't have brought that here, that belongs to somebody else, where did you get it?" I said, "that house over there, through the stone wall." "The log cabin?" she asked "Oh!' Aong about this time came Aunt Maggie and she said, "I just caught a glimpse of this little girl going through the stone wall with my asparagas." Grandma said, "Is this your? She thought somebody had just left it there, that no body wanted it so she brought it home to me." "You will have to tell her you're sorry." she told me. So I told her I was and thought that someone had left it for me or forgotten it. We never had any problem with Aunt Maggie, she was just as sweet and nice as Aunt Mary Jane was contankerous. They are all dead and gone and if she heard me say that she would say, well, so that's how you felt about me.

Mother came down to Utah to get me before the marriage and took me home with her on the train. They were married that late afternoon when she and I arrived on the train. I stood up along side of Dad Hendricks. I held his right hand and Mother was on his left. He was a cripple, as were two of his brothers. They had a disease at the time, which had kept them in bed for a long time, they called it hip disease, each one of them had trouble with their one leg which seemed to shrivle up and not grow any more. My father was the worse of the three and he wore a built up shoe. If he was standing up without his shoe his leg would be about half that of his right leg, so he had this shoe built up about that high. He was never able to participate in dances or anything of that sort, but he would take Mother and me to the dances, because she liked to dance and we would sit and watch.

There was one young fellow there, that worked for the grocery store delivering groceries. He was a tall, lanky guy and we called him "Link." I don't remember what his last name was. He would come up and ask me to dance. Here I was only about six years old and I thought I was about the biggest one on the floor. They had Supper Dances and he would come get me and would say, "Now, I'm your date for the supper. I'll take you to supper." We would go up to a restaurant and have something like oyster soup with crackers.

Over the hill from Kendle, Montana was a place they called "Slab Town." I think the poorer families lived there. Their homes were not as nice as the ones on our street, or on our side of the mountain. When he would go there and happened to see me he would say, "I'm going to deliver groceries over to Slab Town, do you want to go with me?" I'd go. There was never anything out of the way and I thought so many times, you couldn't do anything like that now. Link was a very nice young man and congenial. He thought I would like a buggy ride and so I would go with him over to Slab Town. These were some of the early rememberances of Montana.

Since Saturday was a very busy day for Dad, he worked until 11 or 12 at night shaving and giving haircuts for all these miners, Mother said if he would teach her the trade she would help him, so he taught her.

When I was up in Montana, Mother would take a notion to go on a trip somewhere and she would put me on the train. When I would get off the train in Cache Junction I would look across the valley to the Logan Temple and I could almost cry, with the feeling I had. I would think, "That is my Temple and this is my home!" I was coming back home. I learned to shift for myself from the time I was six years old. She would put me on the train in Lewistown and the train would go to Butte, where I changed trains and then I would get off the train at Cache Junction and catch another train and go over to Smithfield. She may have said something to the Conductor, but I was on my own and I got to the point where I felt I knew as much where I was going as anybody else. I was independent and didn't need their help. I guess that's where I got my independence from.

My Mother's second husband was, James Howell Hendricks, and they were divorced in 1911, because of the age difference. He was very good to me. He was better to me than my own Father. When I would go back to Smithfield, my Grandfather Bingham would come and get me and take me to see my Father, my Father never came to see me, but I was always taken to see him. My Father maybe would give me a nickle, that was the size of it. He never kissed me or anything of that nature, or showed any affection.

I still kept in contact with Dad Hendricks through letters and I continued to see him.

My Mother and I moved to Minden, Montana, about eleven miles East. Mother worked as a barber, a trade she learned from my Step-Father.

My Mother married Walter Louis Geering, in Southern Utah. They moved to California and from then on it was move from one place to another. He was from New York City, and his parents had money, but he had been a wilful boy in his younger age and I guess decided to leave home. I didn't like the fellow and I didn't like the marriage. He was a miner at the time and Mother was working as the cook at the Wild Bill. I was eleven years old and they wanted to send me away to school and I wouldn't go, so I stayed with them. My job was to make the cake and puddings occasionally. That's all I had to do and I was free to go for the day. I wandered the desert, and Mother never knew where I was. Since I have had children of my own, I can't understand it, because I could no more have let one of my younsters off in the desert where there were rattlers all around. There was no school, and no other children. She would send me back to Grandmother's every once in a while, putting me on the train in Milford, Ut. I was not close to my Mother, I was not a part of her life. I was closest to my Step-Father.

That was my Mother's last marriage, he killed himself, and she put his body on the train back to New York to his brother.

Mother was working in a hotel restaurant where she cooked. The floor had been mopped and it was still wet, she slipped and fell and cracked her hip bone and pinched a nerve and they sent her home on a stretcher. After her accident she was sent to Smithfield and Aunt Bardella took care of her. That was in October and she died in March. The Death Certificate said "Nervous Prostration," she was thirty-one years old.

I was living in Smithfield when my school teacher, Sadie McCracken, asked me to sing in the choir. I said I couldn't sing, but there were no young women I chased around with except Fontella, my Father's sister, and Margarette Roskelley, Aunt Mary Jane's oldest son's daughter. I went to choir practice and Emma Roskelley (Hansen), Aunt Maggie's daughter, played the organ. I turned the music for her. I always managed to get in on what they were doing somehow. I met Gilbert at choir practice. He could sing when he wanted to and he had a good voice. He walked me home, across the street, I was 15 or 16. We put on a show and took it all over the valley and Logan. I went out with Gilbert a few times before my Mother died. She asked me who I came home with and she turned her head and said, "Oh, my Lord, it's a Roskelley!"

Mother died in March 1815 and Dad Hendrick adopted me in August. He sent me to school. I was going back to Iowa to school, and there was a Golden Wedding Anniversary on the 19th of October, so he took me back in September. I started school in Cincinnati, Ohio and was very unhappy with it. Dad went down to the dentist office one day and his secretary said she had a friend going to school in Valparaiso, Indiana. So Dad asked her about the school and then asked me if I wanted to go there. I wanted to go so I went and packed up my clothes. I stayed a year and then came back to Smithfield and married Gilbert Roskelley.

We were married August 29, 1917. I had come home in June. He had written to me now and then when he was in the army. I wasn't particularly interested in him, but we were married in the Salt Lake Temple.

I went to Bishop Winn to get a recomment and then I had to get the Stake President to sign it, of course, so I went to Lewiston, and after I got there I found he had gone out into the field and so I walked out there and found him on his tractor in the plowed field. He signed it and I tried to get back in time to catch the inter-urban back to Smithfield. I went to church on Sunday and the Stake President came to Smithfield. Gilbert had the Bishop and Stake President sign his recommend right there in Smithfield. I could have kicked myself all over the place.

We went to Salt Lake with Mother Roskelley and to the Temple. After the wedding she went to her sister's. We went to the hotel and no sooner got there when somebody came to the door and said he had a call from the camp. Somebody had missed him and he better get back as he was AWOL.

I stayed in the hotel by myself, and Gilbert went back to Fort Douglas. Later, I went out to Fort Douglas and we had our Wedding Supper out of a mess kit, sitting on a box in front of a tent. That's the way it was all through my life!

Gilbert was transferred to San Diego and I worked for the telephone company there after he went to France. It was 1918 and everyone had the flu. Every other position at the phone company was empty, we had to work our position and half of one on each side. Everytime we went to the restroom, we had 15 minutes every two hours, and every time we left the board we had to give up our mouthpiece. When we came back we had to have our throat sprayed and we would get a new mouthpiece for our headset and go back on the board. When we went back we were trying to reach all the positions and then all of a sudden the board lit up for the armistice.

History of Wanda B. Roskelley

by Wanda Roskelley

Born January 10, 1900, Smithfield, Cache County, Utah. Father - - Parley Pratt Bingham, Jr., Mother - - Julia Abigail Smith. Lived on a farm at Trenton, Utah my first year and then my parents moved to Ogden, Utah. Father and Mother divorced when I was two and on half years old. Went to live with my Mother's oldest sister, Elnora Jane Richardson at Driggs, Idaho. Lived with her until I was 5 years old when my mother came from Montana, where she had been working, to get me. She was married again. Her second husband's name was James Howell Hendricks. He was a cripple -- one leg being much shorter than the other. It did not hinder him for making a good living for my mother and myself. He accepted me as his own and was very good to me. When I was quite young I used to say I was married to him too, as I had stood beside them when they were married.

We made our home in Kendall, Montana, a thriving mining town at the time and it was here I started my schooling at the age of five.

The children I played with were all starting school and I was feeling rather left out as I wouldn't be six until January, so my mother told me to go to school and tell the teacher I was six years old. So when asked my age by the teacher, I replied that I was five, but my mother told me to tell her I was six. The teacher let me stay and I finished the 4th grade at Kendall and moved to Maiden, Montana for one year.

Then my Mother and Step Father were divorced. There was too much difference in their ages to make a compatible marriage. My stepfather was 17 years older than my Mother and my Mother was quite a young woman, having been married when she was just sixteen years old.

She went to Milford, Utah and cooked at a mining camp that year and I was out of school. She wanted to send me to live with a family in town so I could go to school but I didn't want to leave her so she let me stay out that year. From then on until I graduated from the 8th grade at Smithfield, Utah I attended eleven different schools in five different states. Mother died in March 1915 before I graduated from the 8th grade. I had my first year of High School in Smithfield, Utah, then I went east to Cincinnati, Ohio to school, but was disappointed in the school, so my stepfather sent me to the Valparaiso University, Valparaiso, Indiana. They gave high school courses along with university couses. I thoroughly enjoyed my year there and fully intended going back for the next year, but when on vacation to Smithfield I met Gilbert Roskelley, whom I had gone with while in school in Smithfield. He was on furlough. We decided to get married - we were married in the Salt Lake Temple, August 29, 1917. He was in the Army, and stationed at Fort Douglas. When I came down to Salt Lake City from Smithfield I found he had been confined to quarters for some infraction of regulations. The morning we were married he took a company of buglers out to Mt. Olivet Cemetary and told them to practice and he slipped away to be married - I went out to Fort Douglas later that day and had my wedding dinner out of a mess kit. I returned to my hotel room alone.

There really wasn't much of a honeymoon. I returned to Smithfield at the end of the week and then got a job in the confectionary where I worked for a while - Gilbert was sent to Camp Kearney - down by San Diego and I joined him there by Thanksgiving of that year. We rented a little cottage in the rear of a home. It had three small rooms - another soldier's wife shared it with me and we paid the sum of $10.00 per month rent. Our allotment was only $30.00.

In August the next year Gilbert was sent to France with the Regiment, the 145th Field Battalion. I then went to Los Angeles and stayed with the Aunt who had me when I was 2 1/2 until 5. Whille Gilbert was gone, I worked as a Telephone Operator. I was at the switchboard when the armistice was signed. It was quite a puzzle when all the lights came on at one time, and supervisors and the managers came around and told us to not become excited or panicky and just answer what calls we could. After about two hours the chief operator came to my position and said I might take the rest of the day off. I asked why - she replied that since my husband was overseas and the armistice had been signed I might like to celebrate with the rest of the people. That was the first I knew of the cause for the lights on our boards.

I went downstairs and once on the side walk found I had no choice of direction. You could only go one way with the crowd. In January of 1918 the war being over Gilbert returned to the United States and was sent to Logan, Utah for discharge. He then came to California and obtained employment. Gilber found work with an electrical contractor and made that his work.

In the following December, my first child was born, Jack Arthur - December 15, 1919.

On October 19, 1921 my second child was born. A girl, Juanita. When she was about two years old I took her and her brother Jack to Montana to visit my stepfather. We visited there for three months and then returned to Los Angeles. We moved to Inglewood - or just out of town about one mile. There were seven Mormon families living on one acre of ground. We built a garage, 12 by 18 and stored our furniture in one end and lived in the the other end. Gilber had broken his ankle while I was in Montana and was out of work so we were forced to live on a very meager allowance. We lived there for almost a year and then rented us a house in South Gate and moved there. We were only there about eight months and I got a divorce and again went to Montana. This time to Helena. I shared a house with my stepfather's sister. I learned the marcelling business and did marcelling in my home or often went to patrons homes. Gilbert came up to Washington then over to Montana and we effected a reconcilliation. Gilbert worked for the Anaconda Copper Co. We lived there about one year and then moved to Snohomish, Washington, where Gilbert had bought ten acres of ground with a small house. My stepfather went with us and lived out there about five months. Work was scarce and we lived out so far it was impossible to get a doctor. About time my third child was due I went to Ethel, Washington to be with another Aunt of mine. My stepfather became ill and he went to a small hospital for treatment of a bowel and leg ailment.

My third child, a boy, named Melvin Gale was born at Ethel, on November 13, 1926. We returned to Snohomish, when Gale was ten days old. It rained all the way. When we reached home, about 150 miles, I was sick with an abcessed breast and the baby got pneumonia. We tried to get a Doctor and none would come out. We worked over the baby and he was improving and I got word from my stepfather's hospital, he had passed away at Vader, Washington. I left the baby sick, and I was sick and went to Vader to make... (missing page)

...to Utah to look after her. We decided we would go. We had a half-ton truck which we covered with canvas and packed with our trunks - Barbara's high chair and sleeping quilts and a grub box fixed on the back. We sold the few things we had and had about $30.00 to make the trip on. When crossing the Blue Mountains the wind blew so hard we stopped the truck and propped it up with poles to keep it from blowing over until the wind subsided.

When we reached Smithfield we found my father had gone to my mother-in-law's and had plowed up the garden spot so that we could plant a garden as soon as we got there. My father also gave me a young heiffer. My mother-in-law's land had been rented out for so long and all machinery had either been taken off or was not worth trying to fix. My husband mortgaged the land and borrowed from the Government. We built a barn and bought some cows. It seemed we just weren't meant to succeed at anything. The depression came along and times were hard. I received clothing from the county, coats were made over for my children, underclothing I made from flour sacks. I was able to can fruits and vegetables from our orchard and garden. We had plenty of potatoes and we had enough wheat in the mill for our flour and cereal. In fact the persons in charge of county extension bureau came and took pictures of our cellar. Cash was sosmething we didn't have. We didn't have funds for purchases from the store or for buying coal.

Occasionally my husband would get a days work on W.P.A. which would help pay our light bills and coal. My mother-in-law died in September after our moving to Smithfield in April, 1932. January 14, 1933 my fifth child, Vance Bingham was born. That year we had a lot of illness in the family. Vance was a tiny baby in poor condition when born as I was not well myself. My blood count had gone down to 42 and I was under the doctor's care. We were unable to find a food to agree with Vance and he contracted whooping cough from Barbara who had got it from a neighbor boy. After we had gotten over the whooping cough Gale came home with scarlet fever. Our house was quarentined all fall and winter. I had cleaned the house with lysol and fumigated and had gone to Logan to shop for a few toys for Christmas and came home. The next day, after the children had their nap, I discovered they all had measles.

In 1937 my husband left and went to California and found employment at the Associated Oil Co. as an electrician. In the summer of 1938 we moved to Martinez, California. We lived in Martinez one year then moved to Clyde, just three miles out of Concord. It was while living in Clyde that I was set apart as President of the Relief Society, 1938 thru 1942. We then moved to Concord. In December 1943 I went to work at the post office - after working at the Camp Stoneman Hospital and the storehouse at Benicia Arsenal. I then worked as the inspector in the Testing Labratory of the Associated Oil Co.

In 1941 Jack made a trip to Russia on the oil tanker, Associated. They were followed by Japanese ships - it was a dangerous voyage. He joined the Air Force upon his return and served 3 1/2 years overseas. While in England he married Hilda Gertrude Marsden. He returned to us in October 1945 and his wife came to the U. S. in May 1946.

Juanita was an ammunition inspector supervising the loading of ships with ammunition in New Orleans in 1944 and 1945. She was home for a vaction from October to December 1945 when Jack returned.

Gale had married Ruth Ellen Rhoda of Berkeley, California in May of 1944 and had just completed his officer's training in Georgia so went with us to Camp Beale to meet Jack. We had a wonderful family reunion.

Juanita and Ted renewed their courtship and were married February 2, 1946.

In 1950 I obtained a divorce from my husband and made a trip with Juanita and Vance to Provo, Utah to visit Barbara who was attending B.Y.U.

In June of 1951 Vance and I met Barbara and Joe at Provo and went to Yellowstone Park and on up into Montana where I spent my girlhood. On July 9, 1951 Barbara and Joe were married. When Joe went into the service and after finishing his special schooling and their first baby was born - Karen - they came back to California. Joe was being sent to Japan out of Camp Stoneman so Barbara and Karen came to live with me.

September 6, 1952 Gale was killed in Korea. Vance had joined the Navy in 1952 and he was appointed Honorary Escort at his brother's funeral. Gale was brought back from Korea October 29th. His funeral was held in Martinez October 31, 1952 and he was buried in the Golden Gate National Cemetary, San Bruno, California.

In the fall of 1952 I bought me a home on Bonifacio St. in Concord, four blocks from the post office where I still work.

July 2, 1954 Gilber died of a heart attack and Vance came back from Alaska where he had been stationed for 1 1/2 years for the funeral. Gilbert was buried July 5, 1954 at Golden Gate National Cemetary, San Bruno, California, almost directly opposite of Gale on the far side of the cemetary.

Vance was about due for return to the States so was assigned to Moffett Field, California. It was close enough that he spent considerable time at home which I appreciated for Barbara and Karen were gone and I was alone.

In the fall of 1954 Joe came home and he and Barbara and Karen moved back to Provo where he rentered B.Y.U. to complete his schooling.

When Vance received his separation papers in May 1956 we took a month's vacation to Mexico which we both enjoyed immensely. Vance was married 9 April 1960 to Shirley Mae Johnson in the Los Angeles Temple.

I am visiting Barbara during the Christmas holiday (1960) and having a wonderful time both at her home and the Library where I have made a few additions to my genealogy.