What's in a name?

A long time ago I asked my dad if my name was a family name. Dad told me a story about the ship he was on during World War Two, The Troop Ship Mendocino. Dad went on talking about some of his shipmates, and one in particular, Kenny Johansson. That's pronounced as Yohansson, very Swedish. Dad told me Kenny was probably one of the nicest guys he has ever known. Kenny was raised by a neighbor family after his parents were killed in a car wreck. Kenny was about five when all this happened, and as soon as he could, he joined the Navy, "To see the world". That's who I was named after, one of the nicest guys dad ever knew.

When my son, Karson was about seventeen, he was dating a girl named Sara Linder. Sara lived up in the Apple Hill area here in El Dorado County. Karson didn't date Sara very long, but long enough that we all went up to her home and had dinner with the family. It was a small home, but on lots of property and it had been in the family for a very long time.

When everyone took seats for dinner I ended up sitting with Grandpa Linder. During dinner ,I was trying to find subjects that would carry some conversation. With Grandpa Linder leading most of the talking, we ended up talking about World War Two. I was telling Grandpa Linder about my dad serving on a ship in the South Pacific. Grandpa Linder told me that his brother served in that area also. We both thought that this wasn't too uncommon. After all it was a big war and lots of people were there. That is until Grandpa Linder said the ship his brother served on was the Troop Ship Mendiceno, and that his brothers name was Kenny.

So I'm thinking to myself, Kenny, with the last name of Linder. Close, but no match. I was telling Grandpa Linder about the man I was named after and Grandpa broke in saying, Kenny was probably the nicest brother a guy could have. Then he started telling me about how Kenny's parents were killed in a car wreck and Grandpa Linders Mom and Dad took Kenny in and raised him as there own son, but they had him keep his own family name, Johansson. Yep, one of the nicest brothers a guy could have had. Joined the Navy as soon as he was old enough. To see the World, that's what he said.

Scout Camp 1988

Most of the troop: from the left, Jason Seymour, Jason Domecq, William(Smokey) Morgan, Tim Mortinson, Karson Grewe, and Seth Merrill.

Boy Scouts are the happiest when they have a stick that is ether on fire or pointy. Don't ask why, that's just the way it is.Smokey is standing there wondering where he left his pointy stick, Karson is admiring his pointy stick, while Seth and Jason Domecq are burning the pointy end off so they can start all over again. Jason Seymour is eyeballing his next stick, while Tim is just happy he survived last night!

Karson is twelve, along with a bunch of his Scout friends. One Young man, Jason Seymour was a couple of years older. He was kind of between crowds of young men. We had been preparing for weeks , getting ready for scout camp at Camp Winton.

Camp Winton is located at Bear River Resevoir, off of Highway 88 in Amador County. The camp sits between six and seven thousand feet in elevation. Cold at night, even in August, and the water in the lake is from snow melt. I was an assistant Scout master, but I would be the only leader there for the first few days.

I took my pickup truck to the trail head with Karson, and met the other boys as they were dropped off with all their gear for a week at camp. No roads into camp. We backpacked about three miles with all our gear on our backs. It was hot while hiking, and as soon as we arrived in camp we were met by the camp counselors who directed all of us to the the medical cabin to be evaluated by the camp doctor. From there, we dropped all our gear off at a camp site and headed down to the swim area for the dreaded "swim test". Everyone, including me, had to jump in feet first, going all the way under, then swim two laps around a marked -off area.

Out of the whole troop, we had about three who were in the "skinny kid" group. One who's name I won't mention, "my son" jumped in feet first, came up facing the dock and actually walked back up to the dock on top of the water. I have never seen anyone walk on water before, and we had several in our troop that could do it. How cool is that? By not being a certified swimmer there are a few things that you cannot do. You can't take a small boat out without an adult. You can't take sailboat lessons. Other than that the whole camp is yours.

The whole week is devoted to earning merit badges, and there is no end to the merit badges you can earn. One evening a merit badge counselor asked me if we had any young men who needed the "survival" merit badge. We had two, Karson and Jason Domecq. This was just before our dinner call, and these were two of the "skinny kids". The two of them were whisked off with the counselor, not to be seen again until morning. What they had with them is what they had to survive the night with. That makes for one long night for a twelve year old. "see you guys in a little while" I yelled as they both looked back at me and smiled. I would see them in the morning at breakfast----maybe.

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One of the evenings before dinner call, I took the whole troop to the kitchen and picked up an ice chest with enough stuff to feed us, but we had to prepare it all over a campfire. We loaded all our gear, and the ice chest into a couple of canoes, and one rowboat for me. We all paddled up the far end of the lake and found a flat spot to camp for the night. The whole troop scattered like a bunch ants. I'm thinking to myself, now what? I need to get these boys together somehow. Once the boys had their camp sites set up they all gathered back where the campfire was burning. I had talked with Jason Seymour just before the boys gathered and asked him to "follow my lead" If you want a bunch of boys to listen to you, try keeping it a secret.

We were all wrapping our dinner in tinfoil and baking it in the campfire, when I leaned over to Jason, and whispered, just enough so a couple of the boys could overhear me. "Jason, did you see the wolf tracks down by the waters' edge?" Jason looked at me and whispered back, "What do you think we should do?" I whispered back, "I don't think we would lose more than one" Lets just let the boys camp where they want to. I hate to ruin their scouting experience by telling them to stay by the fire all night.

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I had brought a large plastic tarp in case it had rained. I used it to lay down as a ground tarp so we could use it under our sleeping bags. Before everyone had finished eating, all the little camp sites were abandoned and all the sleeping bags were laying shoulder to shoulder, with no one wanting to be on the outside of the crowd. I took one side, and Jason took the other side.

Standing around the campfire at night you need to keep rotating to re-warm the cold side, kind of like a rotisserie. Everyone had a flashlight and was scanning the treeline. It's amazing how many sets of eyes are watching you when you do that. One young man whose name I won't mention, "my son" was rotating himself keeping warm, just like the rest of us. I hear water running, I look over my shoulder, and guess who is taking a whiz? He looks up at me with those wide open eyes. "I'm not going out there in the dark".

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That night, laying shoulder to shoulder, the boys took turns saying their prayers. I have never heard more fervent praying in my life. It was August and all of us were watching the night ski. The meteor showers that occurred that night were spectacular. It was like having our own fireworks display. One young man, Tim Mortenson, took it upon himself to keep the campfire burning all night! What an amazing young man, to care enough about all the other scouts to stay up all night. I know Jason Seymour and I slept much better with all of us sleeping shoulder to shoulder.

These young men are in their mid thirties now and still remember that week at camp. Some are even in my Ward.

Sand Mountain

About 1985 we found a deal on a used ,three -wheeler A.T.V. Garian was eight, Karson was ten. It only took a few minutes to show both kids how to make it go. A couple of little mishaps later and were all experts. At the time we lived on South Shingle Road on just under two acres. Plenty of room to ride around, for awhile anyway.

Karson really enjoyed giving mom a ride. What kid wouldn't like this?

Garian was just a little timid at first. She only dumped the bike once off the little bridge that crossed the creek in the back yard. One rear wheel didn't make it to the bridge, and over it went. We were right there with her. Yes, she was wearing a helmet.

One of the guys I worked with, Rich Samples, had also bought a three wheeler, somewhat bigger than ours, and he had a close friend that we all called "Uncle Wally". Well, Uncle Wally was into the sand toys way before it got popular. He had a huge one -ton, four-door truck that pulled a three axle trailer that had a workshop in the front with welding stuff, an air compressor, and all kind of tools. He also had a full -sized sand rail and several other sand toys on board.

It wasn't too long before we had the Sand Mountain trip all planed. I had our truck set up with a camper, Rich borrowed his father in-laws class C motor home, and Uncle Wally had the huge big rig with everything else we would need. We all had C.B.'s so we could talk back and forth. Uncle Wally made room for Rich's and our three -wheelers in his trailer.

The day came and all three rigs headed up Highway 50 for Nevada. Uncle Wally leading, Rich behind him, and us in our 1965 Chevy pickup with a camper.

Somewhere about halfway through the American River Canyon on the narrow two lane road, Uncle Wally came on the C.B. and announced, "I'm losing power" and he came to a stop blocking Highway 50 eastbound. I asked what might be happening, I'm a mechanic. He said something about having a problem with a dirty fuel tank and a plugged fuel line. I poked the nose of my old pickup out from behind Rich's motor home. It was clear right then, I got on the C.B. and told Uncle Wally, "I'm coming around, I have a tow chain" . Uncle Wally said something about "no way can you pull this rig with that old pickup"

I backed up to Wallys' truck and hooked the chain to his front end and hooked the other end to my rear hitch. Wally was sitting in his rig to switch tanks and re-start while I was making the hook-up. Highway 50 was backing up real good by now. I got on the C.B. and told Wally to get in neutral, release his brakes and keep the chain tight. As both rigs started moving up the hill, Wally got on the C.B. and asked " just what in the H--- do you have in that old pickup?" I told him I had changed it to 3/4 ton, put in 5:64 rear end gears and also a three hundred horse motor. All he replied with was "Well, no wonder" About two miles ahead I found a wide spot where all three of us could pull in and fix Wallys' problem. He was a little impressed with the old Chevy pickup pulling his rig up the hill, and even shifting as we went. The rest of the trip went with any mishap.

If you look real close, there is a spot in the middle of the mountain about a third of the way up. That's Garian, "going for it" again.

Sand Mountain back in those days was different than what is going on these days. We just about had the whole place to ourselves. We even shot skeet while we were there. Garian took her turn trying to ride the three -wheeler to the top of the mountain. With her weight, she could go higher that anyone else could, but didn't quite understand the concept of turning around and going back down. So we would have to climb the mountain and rescue her just about every time she decided to "go for it" This is why we have children while were young. So we can chase the kids around. Karson being two years older did a little better about going up and down on the same trip.

If you go to Sand Mountain now, you will meet with the B.L.M. people, buy a pass, fight the crowds finding a place to park your rig, and now they frown if you ask about skeet shooting. The back trail to the Nevada weapons proving grounds is now also blocked off. It's still a fun place to go, but not as much fun as it was when the kids were little, and you could turn them loose, and see them any time you look up.

The cars

Yes, we also owned a PINTO Wagon. A baby playpen would just fit in the back. We would put the kids in the back in the playpen and say, "hang on" kids. If they tried to stand up, I would just wiggle the steering wheel or shift quick. Down they would go. I think C.P.S. might have something to say about that today. Still no car seat requirement then. I can remember walking around the in the back seat when I was growing up too. Wahoo, the Grewe kids are in the Pinto!

I am losing track of a few of our vehicles. We had a blue VW Bug when I picked up Gwen and a brand new baby we named Karson from Kaiser Hospital. No car seats back then. Gwen was just holding the baby. As I drove alongside an eighteen wheeler, we looked up under the truck, and down at our new little son. A bigger vehicle was needed. We sold the VW and bought the I.H. Scout 2. Karson was born October 19, 1975. Garian would follow October 17, 1977.

Our neighbor, Hal Daniels had his dad's (Asa ,an old patient from Dr. Woodwards) 1965 El Camino sitting in his front yard for quite some time. When Karson was working and had saved enough money, he struck a deal with Hal. We drove the car into yard and started the project. Karson and I worked our fingers to the bone getting this car ready for PROM night. Some of the paint was still wet as he drove away from the house.

We replaced most of the front end parts, the transmission, and disassembled and painted the whole car, in the garage.

For any guy, you could call this a labor of love. And for all us guys, this is one you should have kept.

This is the 1976 240D MBZ we bought for Garian. She worked with me replacing the engine after NOT keeping an eye on her fluids. Garian later on traded the MBZ in on the Eagle Talon. One very fast car for a little girl. I took it over later and used it to commute from Shingle Springs to Georgetown. (Growersburg Camp) Very fun commute car on twisty roads.

I'm still missing a few cars that we have owned. I will post them as I find them. Gwen and I bought this pickup from Harrell Motors in Placerville to tow a small trailer, which we bought for $350. from Gale Jacksons' parents, to Oklahoma to visit her mom and relatives. It was June of 1977. Karson was eighteen months old. Garian was due in Oct. With a little boy, a pregnant wife, we stopped in Oklahoma City and had air conditioning put in.

After putting the pickup body on a 1963 3/4 ton chassis I painted the truck and bought a camper from Idle Wheels.We went camping a few times.

I bought this rolling chassis, a 1934 Chevy 5 window. Sold it and a ski boat to buy the sail boat.

We sold our 1977 Scout 2 and bought a 1965 Datsun. Ours was blue. Way too small a truck. Karson sat between us and would kick us into neutral as we were going down the road.

This is Gwen's second Astro Van. We are on our third now. We had sold Gwen's first Astro and bought two MBZ's. A 1976 for Garian, and a 1974 for Gwen. Both diesels.

Gwen had this Chevy Nova when we were married. I replaced a whole bunch of front end parts. Maybe we should have kept this one. this pic was taken at our 1st. house on Meder Rd where Karson and Katrina live now. Shrade's are still the landlord.

Bought this 1997 Dodge Ram Diesel new. It cost more than our first three homes. We have had it for thirteen years so far. Super truck.

My mom bought this VW Bug new and gave it to us in about 1989. We traded it for a ski boat.

We bought this 1976 Jeep Wagoner after we sold our 1965 Chevy pickup. We still needed a pickup.

We bought this 1962 MBZ, the only gas MBZ we owned. It had a sun roof and was fun to drive.

Gwen loved this 1958 MBZ diesel. I taught both the kids how to drive in it. Four speeds on the column and a tiny diesel engine. You really had to know how to drive with this combination. Very good learning platform. It was built so heavy it saved Gwen and Jimmy Mies lives when they were broadsided on Power Inn Rd.

!965 pickup before the paint, but after the up-grade to 3/4 ton.

Karson with the first car he ever drove into the back of our home on Ponderosa road, a 1953 MG TD. He would play in the car, and one day he released the hand brake and it was parked on a slight rise above the back of the house. Crash!!!

We looked in two barns and a field at all the parts to this 1953 MG TD. It took awhile to put it together, find an engine and make it all work.

My Scout 800, Gwens new supper beetle. And Pooh, Gwen's Saint Bernard.

Our Scout 800, Gwen's Fiat Spider, and Pooh.

Bought this 1970 914 new. What a fun car. We drove this on our honeymoon. Traded it in on our Scout 800.

This is my 1965 Corvar Spider. Turbo charged flat six. Really fast but couldn't keep fan belts on it at speed.

I bought this 1968 VW new when I was a fireman in Alameda. I moved to Cameron Park soon after.

I picked up this 1935 Ford four door from a sailor who was shipping out for $25.00. The roof had a leak, so we used tar and gravel to seal it up.

1957 VW. bought this when I got out of the Army.

This was Dad and Eloise's wagon. When they bought a new Ford wagon I bought it from them. I was drafted soon after this and I had my neighbor sell it and my hot rod Olds.

I bought one like this, (didn't take any pictures) for $25.00 at a car lot in Oakland. Put a big motor in it and ran the quarter mile.

I traded my 1950 Chevy for my first Olds. A 1949 four door.

Linda fronted the $125.00 so I could buy this 1950 Chevy. I took the motor out and replaced it with a newer engine that I could build to race with.

Grandpa Condley gave us this 1936 Dodge four door. I learned to drive by going up and down the driveway about a zillion times, then hit the streets at thirteen.

Ed's Go Cart

I took these pictures off of our 8th grade school picture. In these shots we were 12 or 13. Next stop, Encinal High School.

I grew up with Ed AcMoody. He grew up in a two story old home like I did, but he had a big garage under his house. Ed had a really big train set that he and his dad had put together. Really cool layout. I think Ed's dad was some kind of an engineer, or at least a good inventor. Ed and I could spend hours looking over some of the things his dad was working on. I kind of remember some tubing that was welded together and if you put some gas in the right place, and heat it up it would turn into a jet engine of some kind. His dad did this, not a couple of ten year old kids. Ed and I were using a hammer to pop caps once, when his dad said, watch this! He put a whole roll of caps in a vise, tightened it, then hit the vise with a hammer. The shock wave set off the whole roll at once!!! Really loud, but the whole roll was gone, all at once.

In his back yard Ed had set up a wire between the house and a tree. He had one of those boy scout rocket thingies that used a CO2 cartridge to power it along the wire. Also really cool. Next to the house was a large tub that was full of water. Ed took one of the CO2 cartridges and fires it off into the tub of water. Wow could that thing cover the ground and jump right out of the tub. Like I said, lots of things to get into.

Ed's dad had built him a go cart. I don't remember if it had brakes, but it at least had a lever that took it into and out of gear. We would take turns around the back yard, into a garage that we had put tilted plywood lifted up on something so we could make really tight turns. I don't remember who thought it up that we should take a turn around Alameda. but We both squeezed into the seat and took off down Lincoln Av, on the sidewalk of course. We didn't make it too far before the Alameda Police were driving along side giving us the evil eye. We pulled to a stop, and had a good talking to. If I remember, I think we had to push the go cart back to Ed's home. I don't know if Ed got into any trouble, I know I didn't. This was probably a first that I get caught doing something and not get grounded.

After being on (chat) with Ed, he reminded me about digging up gophers over in the train yard and keeping them as pets. If you have ever tried to dig up a gopher, it's not that easy. But in Alameda the dirt is mostly sand. It is an island after all. Once you find a new pile of dirt you just start digging with your hands until you open the burrow hole. Then if the burrow is shallow you can just keep pulling up the dirt real fast until you feel fur. Then you wonder if he is facing you, with those big yellow teeth, or if he is making a run for it and you can grab his hind end and toss him away from the burrow. Rather exciting for a couple of eight year olds.

I know we caught at least two. Ed has told me he kept his in a big fish tank filled with dirt, and that it escaped at some point in time. Something about big yellow teeth and a wooden lid on the fish tank. Then he mentioned something about his dad planting a new lawn. "The two don't go together well." I on the other hand put my pet gopher in the sand box in our back yard. I guess it wasn't screened under the sand. We had gopher dirt mounds around for quite a while if I remember right. Just maybe hamsters aren't such a bad idea after all. But you have to buy them! I don't know about Ed's, but I know my didn't want to cuddle at all. In fact it was a little scary just to look at it. Those big yellow teeth and squinty little eyes.

Ill get hold of Ed and see if he can send me a ten year old picture. He is living in Georgia now. Were on face book together and re-living old times. Lots of fun to re-connect.

Angels I have heard on high

This is a shot of the research ship Pioneer pushing across the Pacific up by the Aleutian Islands with some large swells hitting us on the nose.

One of my old buddies, Milton, steering the ship. I never did get to do that!

Good old Mr. Peasly. He sucked in the gut when he saw me with my camera. He knew more about what went on in that engine room than anyone I knew.

In 1961 while working our way between Hawaii and Alaska on the Research vessel, Pioneer. you could tell when you got close to Hawaii. The smell of the islands are unmistakable. On the other end of the sweep, the Aleutian islands also have a smell of their own. Working in the engine room was a life all of it's own. We had huge blowers moving air down from deck level. In the engine room you had noise, lots of noise. You also had diesel fuel vapors in the air. But standing under the blower vents you could almost tell how far we were from land. We all took turns going topside for a few minuets of quite, fresh air, a bite of something to eat, or a restroom break. Our shifts at sea were four hours on, and four hours off. Around the clock.

I worked in the (aft) engine room. It had all its own controls, and also backup controls to the forward engine room. Both engine rooms had the twin diesel engines that could be engaged to the prop shaft one at a time, or both at the same time. The aft engine room also has things that the forward engine room did not. Aft, we had two generators that we would run one at a time to power up all things electric for the ship. We also had a steam boiler and an evaporator to distill sea water into fresh water. The engineer on duty would usually stay at the main control panel, but would cover any open spots for breaks that we all needed during our shifts.

Like I have said, the noise levels are way off the charts in the engine rooms, so we used hand signals, passed notes, or by holding your cupped hands over the other persons ear, you could yell and be understood. My engineer, Mr. Peasly was a huge man, tall with a beer gut over his belt buckle and had been a sea going man all of his adult life. He was somewhere in his fifties when I worked with him. He knew the ship inside and out, every valve, every pipe, and what was in that pipe. The ship was plumbed to carry everything we needed, from fuel, steam, sea water, fresh water, everything.

One of those long shifts in the middle of the night I was sitting in front of the steam boiler and evaporator distilling sea water, filling the fresh water tanks and supplying the ship with steam. Everything was looking right on target in the boilers. You have to balance the fuel to the boiler, the amount of sea water going into the evaporator, the amount of fresh water going into the steam boiler. Lots of tweaking valves to keep it all dancing to the same rhythm of the ship.

I had just gotten down below from a quick break and was tweaking everything back where I wanted it. In the few minutes I was topside, very little had to be done, just watched so nothing went too far out of balance. About a half an hour after my break, I thought I heard something, something that was not the normal noises that we all get used to. I looked over at Mr. Peasly to see if he showed any reaction to what I was hearing. I signaled him with a quick wave, and pointed to one of my ears, like, do you hear anything? He took a few moments glancing around and listening, looked at me and shrugged his shoulders, meaning, nope, nothing. I went back to tweaking and watching.

A short time later I thought I heard something again, only this time, all other sounds left me. It was just like when you go unconscious from a conk on the head, or you run our of air for whatever reason. This time I heard singing, beautiful singing. Way high pitched, like angels singing. Again I looked over at Mr. Peasly. I felt like I was in a fog, but I could see, and the only thing I was hearing was that beautiful singing. I waved again and motioned, pointing to my ear. Mr. Peasly did his best to hear what I was hearing, but, nothing again. The sound of the engine room came back and the singing went away. The whole thing lasted for maybe ten seconds. I went back to tweaking and watching all the gauges.

Once again, after a short time, I get goose bumps, this is new, my hearing changes and the singing starts up. Again I look at Mr. Peasley, nothing from him. This time I wave to get his attention. I signal him that I need to go topside for a couple of minuets. He looks over at my gauges and gives me the OK. I don't know why, but someone is telling me something. The third time is no mistake. I get up and into fresh air, its the middle of the night, maybe three am. I take my few minutes topside, take a deep breath of the cool night air and head back down.

As I clear the second level of stairways, (ladders) I can hear the unmistakable sound of escaping steam, lots of escaping steam. As I clear the last few steps, Mr. Peasley is finishing closing the last valve to isolate the broken fitting. Like I said, Mr. Peasley knew this ship inside and out. No panic, no yelling, just calmly doing what he was really good at. Keeping the ship moving. Almost everything had redundant piping and valving, and this engineer knew all about it. We set about changing the problem steam fitting and putting the engine room back into ship shape.

Our shift was over and we were relieved by the next crew. We all went up topside for some air and discuss what happened. Mr. Peasley sat the three of us young guys down and started with me. What was I hearing just before that fitting had blown apart? I told him what I was hearing, but I didn't know how to interpret it, but the third time I had it in my head I felt like it was a warning of some kind. Mr. Peasley looked at me and said, "If you were in that seat where you had been, we would be calling a medical emergency and heading for the nearest port. It may not have killed you, but you would never have been the same person". Then he did something I would not have expected from an old sea dog like him. He leaned over real close and all but whispered "keep your eyes, and ears open young man, someone wants you in one piece for something". Old sea dogs don't talk like that very often, and I gained more respect for a man who shows very little emotion, but seemed to recognize when power from another source places his hand on someone and encourages promptings from above.

The power of prayer

Gwen and I are ready to be baptized.. The kids are really cute.

The Stake Center is really coming along.

Inside looking toward the stage.

Looking toward the Chapel side of the building.

The entrance to the parking lot is to the left. Just out of the picture to the left would have been the old fire station engine room.

My wife and I were baptized into the Mormon Church in March of 1978. El Dorado County members were part of a Stake in Sacramento County. President Sellers was our Stake President and Earl Bair was my Elders' Quorum President. Being new to the Church, I went along with programs that I was asked to attend. We attended our church services at Mormon Center in Rancho Cordova. We also went back and forth for each meeting back then. I would go to Priesthood and come home to pick up my family and go back for Sacrament meeting and so forth. It made for a long day.

I was attending a Priesthood session for Stake Conference and sort of listening to what was being talked about. I thought I heard something about the Church buying property in Cameron Park with the hopes of building a Stake Center. I then heard that because of a building moratorium, the County would not issue a building permit because they were not allowing new water meters because of a drought that had been plaguing the State. I asked President Bair about what I thought I had just heard and he confirmed what I thought I had heard.

Now let me back up a few years: I moved up to El Dorado County in March of 1969 to go to work for Cameron Park as the first fireman. The Fire Chief that called me and offered me the job was Herb Owen. He and I worked together in Alameda as firemen from 1967 until he moved early 1969. He at one time was the Fire Chief in Marin County. Together we set up a brand new fire department. A man named Richard Smith was a local land developer and owned some acreage off of Hacienda Road and Cameron Park Drive. He let us put up a mobile home and a 2 bay, wooden engine room for the 2 fire engines we would be buying. Well, a fire station needs water, so we contacted El Dorado Irrigation District and we put in a water meter. I had to hand dig the water lines myself. We camped out this way for about 2 years while we passed a bond measure and build the new fire station on Country Club Drive.

Now we are back in the late 1970's at the Stake Priesthood meeting.

After the meeting, I went up to President Sellers with Earl Bair at my side and told him" The property on Hacienda has a water meter in place." President Sellers looked at me and asked how I would know about it? I gave him the reader's digest version and he said "If you can locate it, we can start building a Stake Center." Earl Bair looked at me and asked when could I go look for it? I said I'll find it the next morning.

On Monday morning, I loaded some shovels and such in my truck and headed over to Hacienda Rd. "It's amazing how this County gets overgrown in just a few years. I looked around for awhile and decided what I needed to do was dig a trench across where I remembered laying that water line some eight or ten years ago and when I find it I could follow it up to the meter. At about one or two in the afternoon, Earl drove by to see how I was doing. I had a nice looking trench in progress by then, Earl asked if I needed any help. By then, the temperature was somewhere in the low hundreds and I was a little sweaty and a little covered in dirt. I said "you bet." About a half hour later, Earl's brother-in-law shows up. Casey Campbell had just returned from his mission and was a whole lot better in tune with Heavenly Father than I was.

Especially after a few hours of digging my trench.

The first thing Casey asked when he saw me knee deep in a very long trench was" Have you kneeled in prayer and asked Father to help us?" You shouldn't ask someone who is hot, sweaty and dirty if he has prayed about it! Like I said before, we hadn't been members very long. So I climbed out of my little trench and asked Casey if he would offer the prayer. As we kneeled down, Casey offered a heartfelt prayer. As Casey was getting up, he placed his hands on the ground and felt something. As he brushed away the leaves, he asked, whats' this? I looked at him and said "that would be the lid to the water meter we have been looking for! Casey looked at me and asked "Do you need anything else?"

The building would have been built without my knowing about the water meter, we just moved it along a little sooner. With Caseys' help of course.

That young returned missionary taught me a huge lesson about how any project should be started, especially when your on a project that Heavenly Father just might have sent you on. His work will go on, its just nice to be involved.