33. My father Pratt's growing up days, told by my mother Ruth
I want to tell about my father, Orson Pratt Miles. He was born September 7, 1891, in St. George, Utah. He lived most of his life in St. George, except for when he was in World War I. He passed away on December 14, 1975, in St. George, and I will tell some about his life for the next 3 days.
Our favorite photo of him is at the end of the post on Nov. 20, 2013, just before Thanksgiving, in # 7, Thanksgivings past, and "The Suet Pudding Story".
I have already mentioned him in Post # 28, 29th (which was mostly about his mother Paralee, (Pal) whom I was named after. Also he is mentioned in Post # 30, in the story about my mother Ruth's dream. I want to give you an idea of his personality, especially before he was in World War I.
The following is part of what was written by my mother, Ruth Allen Miles, after he had passed away.--- as told in her own words: ------------------
"Pratt loved to dance. He could always be found at the Friday night college dances, which were always packed, it being about the only form of recreation in the town. Under these circumstances it was not considered improper for a girl to attend these dances unescorted, which is usually what both the boys and girls did. During these depression years it was fortunate for a boy to have 50 cents for a dance ticket, to say nothing about an extra dime to buy a girl a drink of punch.
I always enjoyed my time at these dances, and usually would dance one or two with Pratt, who usually showed up with his blind brother, Art, who didn't let his blindness interfere with the rhythm of the music, which he felt in his whole system. I can still see Art dancing as gracefully as anyone in the hall. Women felt it an honor to have their turn with him. Art lost his eyes in a mine explosion and went for 15 years in total darkness. During which time he learned, not only to type and write but to play the ukulele and organ very well. He was born with a musical talent as were most of the Miles brothers.
During Pratt's adolescent years, traveling theater troops would often come to town for about a week, putting on a different play every night. Although money for these performances was hard to come by, Pratt usually was able to conjure up a means of getting himself in. Sometimes he would take a bucket of water and a tin cup and ask to pass water for his ticket. Since the evenings were often quite hot, a cup of water was a welcome refreshment during the performance. The cup would be passed down the row, each taking a drink and passing it on to the next. This was before people were worried about germs, so down the row it would go, each drinking out of the same cup.
Without the convenience of television, radio, movies and virtually any other recreational facility in town, children and adults were forced to make their own fun. Pratt tells of home evening, every evening, in their home which consisted of oft repeated jokes, Bible and Book of Mormon stories, or stories about the Prophet Joseph Smith, singing songs around the fireplace, or anything else they wanted to do together. Local groups of boys and girls often got together for a party. Refreshments were usually homemade molasses candy or melons in season. In spite of the 9:00 P.M. curfew law, these parties would often play kick the can by moonlight all through the night.
One night Brother Bentley, the town marshall, came upon a group of these youngsters at 1:00 A.M. (Pratt included), and one of them had the nerve to say, "Good evening Brother Bentley, is it 9:00 o'clock yet?" As they got older, this group of kids would gather and sing to their hearts content and large groups would sometimes follow and join along. Nowadays a group like that would likely be censured for disturbing the peace. As a friend told me, "There was no mistaking when Pratt would get home for he could be heard whistling or singing for blocks. The darker it got the louder he'd sing."
The 24th of July was another meaningful and festive time for the saints all over the state. Here in St. George, on the night of the 23rd, each family would arrange their covered wagons in a circle, up on the Tabernacle block, preparatory to the festivities. At the time the entire block was vacant except for the Tabernacle. The Woodward School, and the Dixie College buildings (now the Leisure Services building on the corner south of the Tabernacle) were added later. The nearby Indians were also invited to come and participate in the celebration of Pioneer Day, as it is now called. It was the one day when everyone got to drink ice cold lemonade. It wasn't actually lemonade, but rather a drink made with tartaric acid. Nevertheless, it was ice cold from the ice brought down in wagons from Pine Valley, which was stored in big blocks underground.
Now, on the night of the 23rd, the youth often had a somewhat mischievous celebration of their own. Pratt tells of one young boy who got tired and fell fast asleep. So Pratt and some of the other boys carried the sleeping boy (wrapped in his blanket) and put him between 2 sleeping squaws. (Dad used to tell this story and say the 2 squaws were very mad the next morning when they woke up!) This was the kind of harmless, inventive fun that Pratt enjoyed.
He went to Dixie College (now Dixie State University) the first year that it opened. (1911) Dixie was originally a Church school. Pratt graduated with the first choir as well as the first class of students.
Dad is 2nd from the left on the top row. Pygmalion is the play which later was made into "My Fair Lady", the musical. He loved music and the theater.
Pratt became a barber after college. The years passed and Pratt did some mining work, and some freighting between the mine and Modena, Nevada, with horse and wagon. Each trip was a journey of several days. Then came World War I. Pratt, and his brothers, Bob and Lorin, were drafted. He went to Fort Lewis, Washington, with about 20 boys. They all stuck together pretty closely, and leaned upon one another. While there he was a part of another male quartet. He was also quite proud of his hair, and attempted to avoid having a crew cut like all the others. His punishment was to have his head shaved. He could stand it okay except when the quartet sang. Then it was humiliating for him to stand before people with his head revealing that he'd broken the rule.
Pratt truly lived up to the scripture in Matthew 25:3-40 where it says, “I was an hungered and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty and ye gave me drink; I was naked and ye clothed me; I was sick and ye visited me; I was in prison and ye came unto me.” And finally the Lord said, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” I have seen Pratt do them all. One fellow here locally, a barber, was in prison but he could get out on bail if he could get a job. His mother came to Pratt and asked what he could do. Even though Pratt didn’t need the extra help, he let the man come in and use the second chair which Pratt had in his shop at the time. Pratt went to Salt Lake City and vouched for the man that he would give him work. The fellow did come and work a day or two and then never showed up again. We never did hear of him going back to prison so hopefully all worked out for the “poor cuss.”
The above is a photo of my dad in his barber shop. It probably was taken in the 1930's. He had a full head of hair that didn't recede his entire life. He passed away with a beautiful head of white hair.
Our favorite photo of him is at the end of the post on Nov. 20, 2013, just before Thanksgiving, in # 7, Thanksgivings past, and "The Suet Pudding Story".
I have already mentioned him in Post # 28, 29th (which was mostly about his mother Paralee, (Pal) whom I was named after. Also he is mentioned in Post # 30, in the story about my mother Ruth's dream. I want to give you an idea of his personality, especially before he was in World War I.
The following is part of what was written by my mother, Ruth Allen Miles, after he had passed away.--- as told in her own words: ------------------
"Pratt loved to dance. He could always be found at the Friday night college dances, which were always packed, it being about the only form of recreation in the town. Under these circumstances it was not considered improper for a girl to attend these dances unescorted, which is usually what both the boys and girls did. During these depression years it was fortunate for a boy to have 50 cents for a dance ticket, to say nothing about an extra dime to buy a girl a drink of punch.
I always enjoyed my time at these dances, and usually would dance one or two with Pratt, who usually showed up with his blind brother, Art, who didn't let his blindness interfere with the rhythm of the music, which he felt in his whole system. I can still see Art dancing as gracefully as anyone in the hall. Women felt it an honor to have their turn with him. Art lost his eyes in a mine explosion and went for 15 years in total darkness. During which time he learned, not only to type and write but to play the ukulele and organ very well. He was born with a musical talent as were most of the Miles brothers.
During Pratt's adolescent years, traveling theater troops would often come to town for about a week, putting on a different play every night. Although money for these performances was hard to come by, Pratt usually was able to conjure up a means of getting himself in. Sometimes he would take a bucket of water and a tin cup and ask to pass water for his ticket. Since the evenings were often quite hot, a cup of water was a welcome refreshment during the performance. The cup would be passed down the row, each taking a drink and passing it on to the next. This was before people were worried about germs, so down the row it would go, each drinking out of the same cup.
Without the convenience of television, radio, movies and virtually any other recreational facility in town, children and adults were forced to make their own fun. Pratt tells of home evening, every evening, in their home which consisted of oft repeated jokes, Bible and Book of Mormon stories, or stories about the Prophet Joseph Smith, singing songs around the fireplace, or anything else they wanted to do together. Local groups of boys and girls often got together for a party. Refreshments were usually homemade molasses candy or melons in season. In spite of the 9:00 P.M. curfew law, these parties would often play kick the can by moonlight all through the night.
One night Brother Bentley, the town marshall, came upon a group of these youngsters at 1:00 A.M. (Pratt included), and one of them had the nerve to say, "Good evening Brother Bentley, is it 9:00 o'clock yet?" As they got older, this group of kids would gather and sing to their hearts content and large groups would sometimes follow and join along. Nowadays a group like that would likely be censured for disturbing the peace. As a friend told me, "There was no mistaking when Pratt would get home for he could be heard whistling or singing for blocks. The darker it got the louder he'd sing."
The 24th of July was another meaningful and festive time for the saints all over the state. Here in St. George, on the night of the 23rd, each family would arrange their covered wagons in a circle, up on the Tabernacle block, preparatory to the festivities. At the time the entire block was vacant except for the Tabernacle. The Woodward School, and the Dixie College buildings (now the Leisure Services building on the corner south of the Tabernacle) were added later. The nearby Indians were also invited to come and participate in the celebration of Pioneer Day, as it is now called. It was the one day when everyone got to drink ice cold lemonade. It wasn't actually lemonade, but rather a drink made with tartaric acid. Nevertheless, it was ice cold from the ice brought down in wagons from Pine Valley, which was stored in big blocks underground.
Now, on the night of the 23rd, the youth often had a somewhat mischievous celebration of their own. Pratt tells of one young boy who got tired and fell fast asleep. So Pratt and some of the other boys carried the sleeping boy (wrapped in his blanket) and put him between 2 sleeping squaws. (Dad used to tell this story and say the 2 squaws were very mad the next morning when they woke up!) This was the kind of harmless, inventive fun that Pratt enjoyed.
He went to Dixie College (now Dixie State University) the first year that it opened. (1911) Dixie was originally a Church school. Pratt graduated with the first choir as well as the first class of students.
Pratt became a barber after college. The years passed and Pratt did some mining work, and some freighting between the mine and Modena, Nevada, with horse and wagon. Each trip was a journey of several days. Then came World War I. Pratt, and his brothers, Bob and Lorin, were drafted. He went to Fort Lewis, Washington, with about 20 boys. They all stuck together pretty closely, and leaned upon one another. While there he was a part of another male quartet. He was also quite proud of his hair, and attempted to avoid having a crew cut like all the others. His punishment was to have his head shaved. He could stand it okay except when the quartet sang. Then it was humiliating for him to stand before people with his head revealing that he'd broken the rule.
Pratt truly lived up to the scripture in Matthew 25:3-40 where it says, “I was an hungered and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty and ye gave me drink; I was naked and ye clothed me; I was sick and ye visited me; I was in prison and ye came unto me.” And finally the Lord said, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” I have seen Pratt do them all. One fellow here locally, a barber, was in prison but he could get out on bail if he could get a job. His mother came to Pratt and asked what he could do. Even though Pratt didn’t need the extra help, he let the man come in and use the second chair which Pratt had in his shop at the time. Pratt went to Salt Lake City and vouched for the man that he would give him work. The fellow did come and work a day or two and then never showed up again. We never did hear of him going back to prison so hopefully all worked out for the “poor cuss.”
The above is a photo of my dad in his barber shop. It probably was taken in the 1930's. He had a full head of hair that didn't recede his entire life. He passed away with a beautiful head of white hair.
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