166. Reposting #33 and # 34, about my Dad Orson Pratt Miles's life -- in honor of Father's Day!
34. Dad's autobiography, early 1900's to World War I, by himself
(By Ruth, his wife, my mother) : "There are two memories Pratt has mentioned that occurred at the Red Hill home. (It was just north of the Post Office on 2nd north and Main, a house or two going north on Diagonal Street.) Both have to do with accidents, and both included a certain girl, Hortense McQuarrie, who later moved east and became a millionaire. In memory of her time in Dixie she donated the money for the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers Memorial Building Museum here in St. George, which contains many relics and pictures of the early Dixie Pioneers.
Pratt and Hortense were playing as all children loved to, up in one of the hay lofts in a barn. Pratt fell through where some boards were broken and as a result, his arm, as well as the boards, were broken. He remembers going home and then to the Doctor, who set it, not in a plaster of Paris cast as we do now, but in a leather cast that had to be laced up like a shoe. He said it happened when he was 4 years old. Pratt saved the leather cast and had it for years, among other things, in his own little treasure chest. (It is interesting to know how a broken arm was taken care of in 1895!)
Back in those days there were no washing machines, nor electricity for that matter. Each mother would heat her wash water outside, in a tub over an open fire. There was no commercial soap to buy either, which made it the duty of each household to save every scrap of grease in order to make soap for cleaning, which was made with fat, water and lye. (Sometimes it was necessary to even make the lye by pouring the water over wood ashes and straw.) However, at the time canned lye had come into use. Each mother washed her clothes by hand on a wash board and faithfully boiled them in a soap and lye solution. Pratt and Hortense, curious as usual, found the can of lye on the wash basin, and, or course, had to taste it. Fortunately, all that came of the incident was a somewhat burned face, lips, and mouth. (She was born in 1881, and would have been 10 years older than Pratt – he would have been around 5 years old.)
This is basically how they had to wash clothes, outside in boiling water.
When Pratt was five years old his family moved across town to a home at the foot of the Black Hill, which had more garden space and fruit trees -- a place for milk cows, etc., that a large family needed. For in those days families just about had to supply all their own food, as well as make their own clothes. It was at this home, near the "Swiss Block" as they called it, that Pratt spent his early childhood and much of his adult life. That entire block, from 100 to 200 south, and 300 to 400 west, was known as the “Swiss Block”, as so many Swiss people settled there.
Here Pratt spent a typical, carefree, happy boyhood in spite of the modest conditions at home. No one seemed to mind as all were in a similar condition. His biggest dilemma at that time seemed to be to fill a bottomless stomach which was always hungry. As a result, he knew where every pear and apple tree in town was that gave early fruit. He also knew where the best grape and melon patches were and often partook of them when they were "in season".
On occasion, he would find eggs in a field of tamarack trees and take them to the Windsors' Store where he would trade them for candy. Candy was hard to come by in those days. After bringing the eggs into the store, Brother Windsor would put them in water to see if they would float. If they did float, that meant the eggs were rotten and little Pratt was too late, but, he said, "I never remember leaving the store without a piece of candy, regardless of the condition of the eggs." --- end of quotes by Ruth.
Back in those days there were no washing machines, nor electricity for that matter. Each mother would heat her wash water outside, in a tub over an open fire. There was no commercial soap to buy either, which made it the duty of each household to save every scrap of grease in order to make soap for cleaning, which was made with fat, water and lye. (Sometimes it was necessary to even make the lye by pouring the water over wood ashes and straw.) However, at the time canned lye had come into use. Each mother washed her clothes by hand on a wash board and faithfully boiled them in a soap and lye solution. Pratt and Hortense, curious as usual, found the can of lye on the wash basin, and, or course, had to taste it. Fortunately, all that came of the incident was a somewhat burned face, lips, and mouth. (She was born in 1881, and would have been 10 years older than Pratt – he would have been around 5 years old.)
When Pratt was five years old his family moved across town to a home at the foot of the Black Hill, which had more garden space and fruit trees -- a place for milk cows, etc., that a large family needed. For in those days families just about had to supply all their own food, as well as make their own clothes. It was at this home, near the "Swiss Block" as they called it, that Pratt spent his early childhood and much of his adult life. That entire block, from 100 to 200 south, and 300 to 400 west, was known as the “Swiss Block”, as so many Swiss people settled there.
Here Pratt spent a typical, carefree, happy boyhood in spite of the modest conditions at home. No one seemed to mind as all were in a similar condition. His biggest dilemma at that time seemed to be to fill a bottomless stomach which was always hungry. As a result, he knew where every pear and apple tree in town was that gave early fruit. He also knew where the best grape and melon patches were and often partook of them when they were "in season".
On occasion, he would find eggs in a field of tamarack trees and take them to the Windsors' Store where he would trade them for candy. Candy was hard to come by in those days. After bringing the eggs into the store, Brother Windsor would put them in water to see if they would float. If they did float, that meant the eggs were rotten and little Pratt was too late, but, he said, "I never remember leaving the store without a piece of candy, regardless of the condition of the eggs." --- end of quotes by Ruth.
The following is part of what was handwritten by my dad, Pratt, in a large journal I have at my home.
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When I was eight years of age our home caught fire and was completely destroyed, burning most everything inside. This was the first sorry experience of my life; but my father William G. Miles, being a mason, and carpenter, built us a home that was better than the old one that burned.
My greatest interests those days came from herding cows, riding donkeys, swimming in the Virgin River and going on the freight road. While still of Primary age, I did some public singing as a boy, having an extra high pitched voice. My mother was President of the Primary at that time and Sister Stewart, mother of John S. Stewart, played the old organ well. She was my accompanist. The song I sang the most those days was entitled, “I Am A Mormon Boy,” which song I still remember.
(I have a copy of "I Am A Mormon Boy," if anyone is interested, I can e mail it to you.)
(I have a copy of "I Am A Mormon Boy," if anyone is interested, I can e mail it to you.)
At the age of 12 years, I was ordained a deacon. A deacon in those days had some varied duties to perform, such as cutting stove wood for the widows and sick who could not do it. Cutting the wood and starting the fires in the Church buildings so they would be warmed up by the time the members came to Church, and passing the Sacrament. At the age of eighteen years I was singing in the Stake Choir and in quartets with my father and Uncle Hayden Church, (his mother Paralee Amanda Church’s brother – named after their father named Hayden Wells Church.) and other brothers of the older age.
Serenading on the streets at night with guitars and harmonizing in the old melodies with others was a real entertainment, which I indulged in very much. At this time, there were no picture shows, but theaters were the go, in their place. Traveling troops visited St. George often, and would play a week at a time. Marble playing was very common on the sidewalks of the city. (Pratt was a very skilled marble player–Pal)
At the age of 18 years I began leaving home for work as there was nothing to earn money at in St. George. I worked in the mines and on farms in Northern Utah, returning home for school in the winter.
I started to the Dixie College the first year it opened. My father and I both helped to build the Dixie College. (Now the Leisure Services building, on the corner south of the Tabernacle.) Father helped cut all the stone that went in it. I helped mix the mortar and carry brick and different odd jobs. (Pratt's father was a stone mason, and helped cut stone for the Tabernacle here also.)
Some of my early life was spent down at Price City, which was a little town on the Virgin River about 5 miles south of St. George. (Now the area of Bloomington.) We owned a small farm there. Grandfather and Grandmother Miles (Samuel and Hannah Miranda Colborn Miles) lived there and I lived with them some.
The Miles family all gathered there once a month to visit with them, and oh, for the good times we had together. Programs from the family talent and a family dinner were the main events. Our traveling was all done in wagons and buggies in those days; and oh, how happy they were because we were more united as family groups than the world is today.
At the age of seventeen years, I had my first ride on the train. Sister Amanda and her husband (John Johnston) had a farm up Provo Canyon, three miles above Heber City. When school was out in the spring I was to go up and help my brother-in-law for the summer. They sent me train fare. I traveled to the railroad at Modena with a freight team which took almost three days, and when I boarded the train I was so scared I thought I was sure a goner. But as the train moved along I sure got a thrill out of the ride. For the next six years I made the same trip each spring to help on the farm above Heber City. I experienced the feeling of home sickness very severely, but survived it. The farm was located on the Provo River, a beautiful cool place to spend the summer.
In July, 1917, (age 25) while working at the Moscow Mine close to Milford, Utah, I found out I was in the first draft of World War I. I went straight home to St. George to visit with the family and friends until I went in the service September 18, 1917.
About 90 boys left St. George by auto for the railroad at Lund, Utah, where we took a special soldiers train for Fort Lewis, Washington. The winter at Fort Lewis was something different and very entertaining. The North West of the United States is a most beautiful country with its rivers, lakes, and timber, – also the ocean and Puget Sound.
I was a member of the Battery C Quartet and we sang a lot. I remember one sorry experience having my hair clipped tight to my head for not obeying orders in regard to the regulation hair cut; which confined me to the barrack for a month. Our trip from Seattle to Southern France was wonderful. The ocean was loaded with many German submarines which caused us a lot of excitement and worry. Each morning we would get a report that one or more soldiers had jumped overboard during the night because they could not face the battle line ahead of us." (End of what was written by Pratt in this Post.)
(Pal) Tomorrow I will tell of his harrowing experiences in World War I, and his LDS mission to the Southern States before he married my mother, Ruth.
(Pal) Tomorrow I will tell of his harrowing experiences in World War I, and his LDS mission to the Southern States before he married my mother, Ruth.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 11, 2013
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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