On Family Life, Work, and Church Service
How long did you live in St. Johns?
I don’t know. I lived there I don’t know how many years and then we lived in Albuquerque. My Harold got a job on the Albuquerque Morning Journal and then we moved to Salt Lake. We come here to work on the old Herald and the night before we got here it went broke. So then he went over to visit the Desert News and they put him on the Deseret News and he worked there for years. He ... had a nose for news. He was very good.
After Helen was born then was Alta, Paul, Calvin, Maxine, JoAnn and Ann. I named Ann after JoAnn. … JoAnn…I forget what she died with—they said it was spleen anemia. They were going to take her spleen out. They were just experimenting. Helen, Alta, Paul, Calvin, Maxine, JoAnn and Ann …
Mother … was the best nurse I ever had. She could sure tend little babies when they were first born. I was afraid she would drop them and I’d lay awake waiting, but she never dropped a baby. All my worry was for nothing. There was nobody like my kids. I thought they were the only ones on earth.
I sold shoes for 15 years. I could walk along the street and tell them what size they wore just from looking at them. Oh, yes, I sold shoes and they’d come in some of those fancy women and I’d measure their foot, and I’d go get the shoe and they’d say what do you mean, I don’t wear that big a shoe—say a seven and they’d say I wear a five and I’d go get a five and I’d go get a five and put the shoe on behind and they’d stand up and they’d cram their foot in and their instep would be crammed up like that but they’d get it on their toes, push it down on their heels and right down under the heel, I would put SF [which meant] self-fit. And they’d bring them back and the manager would turn it over and see that SF and say we can’t exchange them. The women would fuss because he wouldn’t exchange the shoes and he would say well you fit them yourself, you wouldn’t let the clerk fit you, and we won’t take them. They would leave. Yes, I sold shoes for many years there. And then I used to model shoes. They’d get some new ones in and they’d have me put them on and then walk up and down and show the ladies how the shoes looked. I did that along with selling.
When I sold shoes was when I lived up in the Avenues, I think, I don’t remember for sure, I guess it was, I’d go down and catch the bus. Did we call them street cars then or buses? I think it was a street car. I’m sure it was. There was a street car line that came up from the Temple. I’d go down and catch them. And then I drove a car, I drove a car back to the back parking lot and then I’d go home at lunch to see that Ann would come home for lunch and then I’d drive back to Auerbach’s. I then I got Sister Aryton (Bill’s mother) to stay with Ann to see that she got home and see that she got lunch and all and then I didn’t have to drive up so far and back. Sister was very good with Ann. Ann was a mischief maker. There was this old man, we lived in the front of the house, and this old man lived in a little two rooms at the back and I used to fill a plate a paper plate with a nice dinner and take it over for him to eat, I felt sorry for him. And Ann, what did she do, she swiped his cane or something and hid it.
I was Stake Supervisor of the kindergarten department and used to go around and teach them how to teach their kindergarten/department in the Sunday school. I was in the Relief Society. I was first counselor in the Relief Society. And, what else…I had three jobs in the Church.
Pasadena. Walnut Street? I don’t know. I had a real nice ward in California. Yes. We’d rent a bus and drive it to the Church, we’d charge them $1 round trip to go from the Church to the Temple and back, plus my husband and I would make each of them a pack lunch and give it to them, and the Bishop would say be sure to get on the bus to go to the Temple and get a Morgan lunch and I got up and corrected him and said that J- T- was fixing the lunch, and you know what J- T- did, charged them for the lunch. And you know what my silly husband did, he’d follow J- around and those that couldn’t pay, he’d pay for the lunch. I said, my gosh there isn’t a person on that bus that hasn’t got more money than we’ve got, and he said well that’s not the point dear! We’re working for the Lord, this is the Church. I didn’t like that, paying for everybody’s lunch. So I said we could fix it cheaper that that, so we fixed the lunch. I’d make cookies and buy three or four loaves of bread and make them a sandwich and some kind of fruit—grapes or something. Then we’d just hand it to them, we wouldn’t charge them.
That's the end of the interview and the lives of Harold and Jessie Christensen Morgan. (At least for now.) Next up is John Hamilton Morgan.
How long did you live in St. Johns?
I don’t know. I lived there I don’t know how many years and then we lived in Albuquerque. My Harold got a job on the Albuquerque Morning Journal and then we moved to Salt Lake. We come here to work on the old Herald and the night before we got here it went broke. So then he went over to visit the Desert News and they put him on the Deseret News and he worked there for years. He ... had a nose for news. He was very good.
After Helen was born then was Alta, Paul, Calvin, Maxine, JoAnn and Ann. I named Ann after JoAnn. … JoAnn…I forget what she died with—they said it was spleen anemia. They were going to take her spleen out. They were just experimenting. Helen, Alta, Paul, Calvin, Maxine, JoAnn and Ann …
Mother … was the best nurse I ever had. She could sure tend little babies when they were first born. I was afraid she would drop them and I’d lay awake waiting, but she never dropped a baby. All my worry was for nothing. There was nobody like my kids. I thought they were the only ones on earth.
I sold shoes for 15 years. I could walk along the street and tell them what size they wore just from looking at them. Oh, yes, I sold shoes and they’d come in some of those fancy women and I’d measure their foot, and I’d go get the shoe and they’d say what do you mean, I don’t wear that big a shoe—say a seven and they’d say I wear a five and I’d go get a five and I’d go get a five and put the shoe on behind and they’d stand up and they’d cram their foot in and their instep would be crammed up like that but they’d get it on their toes, push it down on their heels and right down under the heel, I would put SF [which meant] self-fit. And they’d bring them back and the manager would turn it over and see that SF and say we can’t exchange them. The women would fuss because he wouldn’t exchange the shoes and he would say well you fit them yourself, you wouldn’t let the clerk fit you, and we won’t take them. They would leave. Yes, I sold shoes for many years there. And then I used to model shoes. They’d get some new ones in and they’d have me put them on and then walk up and down and show the ladies how the shoes looked. I did that along with selling.
When I sold shoes was when I lived up in the Avenues, I think, I don’t remember for sure, I guess it was, I’d go down and catch the bus. Did we call them street cars then or buses? I think it was a street car. I’m sure it was. There was a street car line that came up from the Temple. I’d go down and catch them. And then I drove a car, I drove a car back to the back parking lot and then I’d go home at lunch to see that Ann would come home for lunch and then I’d drive back to Auerbach’s. I then I got Sister Aryton (Bill’s mother) to stay with Ann to see that she got home and see that she got lunch and all and then I didn’t have to drive up so far and back. Sister was very good with Ann. Ann was a mischief maker. There was this old man, we lived in the front of the house, and this old man lived in a little two rooms at the back and I used to fill a plate a paper plate with a nice dinner and take it over for him to eat, I felt sorry for him. And Ann, what did she do, she swiped his cane or something and hid it.
I was Stake Supervisor of the kindergarten department and used to go around and teach them how to teach their kindergarten/department in the Sunday school. I was in the Relief Society. I was first counselor in the Relief Society. And, what else…I had three jobs in the Church.
Pasadena. Walnut Street? I don’t know. I had a real nice ward in California. Yes. We’d rent a bus and drive it to the Church, we’d charge them $1 round trip to go from the Church to the Temple and back, plus my husband and I would make each of them a pack lunch and give it to them, and the Bishop would say be sure to get on the bus to go to the Temple and get a Morgan lunch and I got up and corrected him and said that J- T- was fixing the lunch, and you know what J- T- did, charged them for the lunch. And you know what my silly husband did, he’d follow J- around and those that couldn’t pay, he’d pay for the lunch. I said, my gosh there isn’t a person on that bus that hasn’t got more money than we’ve got, and he said well that’s not the point dear! We’re working for the Lord, this is the Church. I didn’t like that, paying for everybody’s lunch. So I said we could fix it cheaper that that, so we fixed the lunch. I’d make cookies and buy three or four loaves of bread and make them a sandwich and some kind of fruit—grapes or something. Then we’d just hand it to them, we wouldn’t charge them.
That's the end of the interview and the lives of Harold and Jessie Christensen Morgan. (At least for now.) Next up is John Hamilton Morgan.
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