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The drive was tiring and hot, as we sat on the hard chuncks of coal. So, we welcomed shade offered by a canvas cover thrown over wooden bows secured to the top of the wagon. Sometimes, my sister and I jumped from the wagon and walked the down hill grades, stopping to carve our initials in the bark of aspen trees in the meantime. We kept our-selves pretty well occupied by asking Papa all sorts of ques- tions such as: "Which way is the Cleveland Reservoir?" Or, "Will you show us where Uncle Lars was thrown from his coal wagon and killed?" Or perhaps, "Is that the Poor House?" Finally we arrived home, but the coal hauling responsi-bility wasn't over for Papa. The big wagon had to be un-loaded at the farm, taken to our coal shed in town, or per-haps, delivered elsewhere. There were times when a load of coal was taken to the Tithing Office, in payment of tithe. For me, the fun was all over. I was tired, sunburned, and ready to fall into bed,-only to dream of my next trip to the coal mine. Source: Personal recollections of the writer and experiences related by her brother. (About 1921) TRIBUTE TO THE "WILLIAM AND SOPHIA DANIELS" FAMILY REUNION Betty Daniels Broadhead Salt Lake City, Utah Non-Professional Division Second Honorable Mention Historical Essay Just as surely as wintertime will follow the summer days, just as surely as a rainbow will follow the warm, gentle rain, -25- |
