Back row: Pops, Mom (love the hair), Nancy (love the scarf), me (dang, I'm ugly, but I had a cute dress and shoes)
Bottom row: Marv, Dennis and Dave.
My brot
her Marvin and I were about 22 months apart. As with most brother/sister relationships I always thought it was a love/hate thing until I was a sophomore in high school and Marv was a senior. That's when I discovered how much I really loved the guy. He truly was a wonderful brother and a great friend. We had a lot of great times together. I really miss him.My memory of Marvin’s accident:
It was Friday, Jan 3, 1969 and a beautiful winter day. The boys in 6th hour T & I with Hazen Gilgen were working on a car and decided to push start it down the 1st Ward hill. A couple of boys jumped into the car while Marvin and two others decided to push. When it got rolling, the three pushers jumped on the back hood. Marvin told me he had the darkest, most awful feeling that he was going to get hurt, so he jumped off. His foot hit some ice and he went up and landed on his head. Unconscious, Stan Palmer rushed him to the hospital and called Pops. Both he and mom rushed to the hospital.
It was Friday, Jan 3, 1969 and a beautiful winter day. The boys in 6th hour T & I with Hazen Gilgen were working on a car and decided to push start it down the 1st Ward hill. A couple of boys jumped into the car while Marvin and two others decided to push. When it got rolling, the three pushers jumped on the back hood. Marvin told me he had the darkest, most awful feeling that he was going to get hurt, so he jumped off. His foot hit some ice and he went up and landed on his head. Unconscious, Stan Palmer rushed him to the hospital and called Pops. Both he and mom rushed to the hospital.
Mom came home because Marvin didn’t want her in the room. She felt awful. Pops told her later it was because Marvin was undressed and in a hospital gown. It embarrassed him to have his mom witness him in this adorable gown. Marvin slipped into unconsciousness.
I didn’t hear about this at school which surprises me but found out later when I got off the bus. Wanda Goddard slid the back door of the store open while I was walking across the parking lot to our red brick house and worriedly told me to go to Grandma Peterson’s and get the kids. Marvin had an accident and our folks were at the hospital with him. I went directly to Grandma’s and picked up Ned and Connie (ages 3 and 5). By the time the kids and I got home, mom was there. She gave me the keys to the car and told me to fill-up at Glen B’s while she got ready. Marvin was being taken by ambulance to Ogden hospital.
As the car was being filled (back in the days when they did that with a smile while cleaning your windshield), the ambulance passed. There was our dad leaning over Marvin in the back. That was a sight that will forever be engrained into my brain. I can still picture it.
That Friday night was an extra special night. Soda Springs was playing Malad in basketball. Our cousin Eddie Thomas was the main player on the Soda team. I was so sad that I was babysitting and not being able to go to the game. I sat in my Pep Club outfit waiting for Mom and Pops to come home. When mom walked in, it didn’t look good. She told me Marvin had not gained consciousness. She had come home to look at the kids and get ready to go back in the morning. She wanted me to go with her. Pops had stayed there with Marvin. She gave me the keys to go to the game.
When I walked in, it was the third quarter. The old Malad gym was packed. When I walked down the stairs toward the gym, I stopped by door and looked for my friends. It was amazing. The entire gym went semi-quiet. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Uncle Henry Bolingbroke was the only one that moved. He came right down from the stands, walked up and asked about Marvin. I told him we wouldn’t know anything until he came to. He walked away sad.
He sat on one side of the gym and the students were on the other side. Some of the girls asked me about Marv before I climbed up to my seat in the back. The grapevine was in full motion. Within 5 minutes everyone in the place knew Marvin’s condition.
Malad won the game.
The next morning at 5 am, mom and I headed to the McKay-Dee Hospital. Pops had walked in the door 5 minutes before we left. Grandma Peterson came to our house to take care of things. Pops had to do the books and open the store by 8. He warned us about the fog. This was before the Interstate was completely done and the trip took forever. Marvin was in the Intensive Care Unit. It was a large room with about 10 beds in a row, 10 nurses and very quiet. The rules were: Only one person could go in for 5 minutes every half hour. Wow, that was a loooooong day.
Mom went in the minute we got there. She came back in laughing. She told me that Marvin was indeed unconscious because a very large black nurse was feeding him a runny egg. Everything in the scenario was wrong. Marvin hated eggs, never ate a runny one in his life, and being from redneck Malad was a little racist (something that was completely wiped away from him on his mission to the South).
Mom left to go home about 4 pm. She left me there. Pops came about 7. Dr. Van Hook arrived. The doctor told our dad that Marvin’s condition was “equivocal.” Pops pretended to know what that meant. He also said that if Marvin’s swelling did not go down on his brain that he would have to have surgery in the morning (before shunts they drilled a hole in the skull to relieve pressure). When we got home, I went straight to the dictionary and looked up “equivocal.” It said, “Ambiguous.” I still didn’t know what his condition was. I looked up “Ambiguous” and it said, “Equivocal.” Hmmm.
The process was long and slow. Marvin made slow, slow progress each day, but it was progress. He never had to have surgery.
A red letter day was getting out of Intensive Care. His roommate was a return missionary whose family lived west of Ogden. The day after he had returned from his mission, he and his friend were driving to Weber State to register for winter semester. On their way their car was hit by a train. His friend was killed instantly and he ended up in the hospital with the same head injury as Marvin. We watched this young man make slow but steady progress too.
He and his parents visited us in Malad about a year later.
Within a month Marvin was back to school full-time.
I didn’t hear about this at school which surprises me but found out later when I got off the bus. Wanda Goddard slid the back door of the store open while I was walking across the parking lot to our red brick house and worriedly told me to go to Grandma Peterson’s and get the kids. Marvin had an accident and our folks were at the hospital with him. I went directly to Grandma’s and picked up Ned and Connie (ages 3 and 5). By the time the kids and I got home, mom was there. She gave me the keys to the car and told me to fill-up at Glen B’s while she got ready. Marvin was being taken by ambulance to Ogden hospital.
As the car was being filled (back in the days when they did that with a smile while cleaning your windshield), the ambulance passed. There was our dad leaning over Marvin in the back. That was a sight that will forever be engrained into my brain. I can still picture it.
That Friday night was an extra special night. Soda Springs was playing Malad in basketball. Our cousin Eddie Thomas was the main player on the Soda team. I was so sad that I was babysitting and not being able to go to the game. I sat in my Pep Club outfit waiting for Mom and Pops to come home. When mom walked in, it didn’t look good. She told me Marvin had not gained consciousness. She had come home to look at the kids and get ready to go back in the morning. She wanted me to go with her. Pops had stayed there with Marvin. She gave me the keys to go to the game.
When I walked in, it was the third quarter. The old Malad gym was packed. When I walked down the stairs toward the gym, I stopped by door and looked for my friends. It was amazing. The entire gym went semi-quiet. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Uncle Henry Bolingbroke was the only one that moved. He came right down from the stands, walked up and asked about Marvin. I told him we wouldn’t know anything until he came to. He walked away sad.
He sat on one side of the gym and the students were on the other side. Some of the girls asked me about Marv before I climbed up to my seat in the back. The grapevine was in full motion. Within 5 minutes everyone in the place knew Marvin’s condition.
Malad won the game.
The next morning at 5 am, mom and I headed to the McKay-Dee Hospital. Pops had walked in the door 5 minutes before we left. Grandma Peterson came to our house to take care of things. Pops had to do the books and open the store by 8. He warned us about the fog. This was before the Interstate was completely done and the trip took forever. Marvin was in the Intensive Care Unit. It was a large room with about 10 beds in a row, 10 nurses and very quiet. The rules were: Only one person could go in for 5 minutes every half hour. Wow, that was a loooooong day.
Mom went in the minute we got there. She came back in laughing. She told me that Marvin was indeed unconscious because a very large black nurse was feeding him a runny egg. Everything in the scenario was wrong. Marvin hated eggs, never ate a runny one in his life, and being from redneck Malad was a little racist (something that was completely wiped away from him on his mission to the South).
Mom left to go home about 4 pm. She left me there. Pops came about 7. Dr. Van Hook arrived. The doctor told our dad that Marvin’s condition was “equivocal.” Pops pretended to know what that meant. He also said that if Marvin’s swelling did not go down on his brain that he would have to have surgery in the morning (before shunts they drilled a hole in the skull to relieve pressure). When we got home, I went straight to the dictionary and looked up “equivocal.” It said, “Ambiguous.” I still didn’t know what his condition was. I looked up “Ambiguous” and it said, “Equivocal.” Hmmm.
The process was long and slow. Marvin made slow, slow progress each day, but it was progress. He never had to have surgery.
A red letter day was getting out of Intensive Care. His roommate was a return missionary whose family lived west of Ogden. The day after he had returned from his mission, he and his friend were driving to Weber State to register for winter semester. On their way their car was hit by a train. His friend was killed instantly and he ended up in the hospital with the same head injury as Marvin. We watched this young man make slow but steady progress too.
He and his parents visited us in Malad about a year later.
Within a month Marvin was back to school full-time.
I learned a lot:
First and foremost, I realized how important my brother was to me. Second, I saw firsthand the concern and love from my parents. I watched mom and pops worry beyond words. Pops left the minute the store was closed in the evening and came home to open the store each morning. Mom spent every day in Ogden. They usually passed each other on the way to and/or from Ogden. Grandma Peterson took care of us.
A few funny and not-so-funny memories:
A few funny and not-so-funny memories:
While still a little dingy the first few days, Marv refused to wear anything but BLUE hospital pajamas. He either had an amazing nurse or they were tired of him stripping down because they looked the entire hospital over to find the right color. They only found blue bottoms, which he gladly wore (no top). When I walked into the room for my 5 minute visit some time later, he was standing up in the bed looking out the window for Grandma Peterson's house.
"Where did it go?" he asked me.
A few days later, Tim, age 11, was allowed to visit in Intensive Care. The age limit was 16 but an exception was made. The entire visit, Marvin was trying to get Tim to hide under the bed so no one would make the too-young brother go away. Tim just smiled.
When out of intensive care and into his own room, Marvin kept a stash of things under his pillow—beef jerky, licorice, a pencil, etc. Usually Pops would take him something every day from the store. He would eat most of it and hide the rest. It was funny.
My favorite memory: One day he mentioned to mom that he would like to attend Ricks. She had him registered and signed up for the dorm before he got home from the hospital and could change his mind.
Mrs. Deon Hansen gave him an A in English for coming back to school and being so brave. I think it was the only A he got in High School besides T&I.
Mom, Grandma Peterson (always wore a dress), Me (freshman in college summer with my "shag" hairdo and bell bottoms) and Pops (in his store apron) in front of grandma's house next to the store.
1 comment:
You are my Ansel "Annie." Your pictures are fantastic. And you have an artist's eye for interesting pictures that not only evoke emotion as they offer a glimpse of a key memory, but they also show some beautiful views of things we have seen. Fantastic Pictures! Aren't you glad I made you buy the "good" camera this time. The others still made you great pictures, but it is like Van Gogh painting with a Bic ball point pen.
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