Attic Memoirs

Update item information
Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 07
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1975
Type Text
Format application/pdf
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6154f64
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-26
Date Modified 2005-02-26
ID 325315
Reference URL

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Title Attic Memoirs
Description when he started the coal furnace each fall ... always around or near September 22. Sterling, Utah, is a singing, dancing town. Remember the old-time dances to the tune of a piano, violin and drum? Remember the schooldays, the doors, the halls, the teachers, the benches and desks you initialed, the teacher's desk, the sandbox, the blackboards, the dividing partition that would raise to make one large room, the old movies, and the pictures of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln? These memories are some of the happiest some of us will ever have. The bell hasn't called us to school since 1956, but it has called us to Primary, church, fires, and for many other reasons. Our every mood, the very pulse of our town could be felt by the ringing of the bell. Do you miss it on the third and Fourth of July? I do. It was too bad that it could not send out its alarm to save the building in which it had hung for so many generations. July 2, 1968, was a sad day in Sterling history for those who feel a reverence for the past. On this night through some carelessness, the Sterlitig School house burned to the ground. All of us who have been raised or resided in Sterling have at one time or another pulled the rope to ring the bell. When we could her its peal, we had a quickening of the pulse and a feeling of accomplishment and pride. Admittedly, our Schoolhouse was not a million dollar edifice ... or was it? At any rate, it was ours and this oftimes makes the difference. Then let us keep that old bell ringing In our heart's just as before. That the noble things it stood for Will be ours, forevermore. ATTIC MEMOIRS Nora R. Mickelson Manti, Utah Non-Professional Division First Place Poetry Now here is your great grandpa's cradle scythe. The blade is rusty and the worse for wear, But in its day it cut a lot of grain. Grandpa would hold it so, then thrust and pull, And lay the sheaf, and thrust and pull again. And no man in these parts could match his thrust, Or work beside him hour after hour. For even though he had a crippled leg, In his arms and hands he had unusual power. -10-
Format application/pdf
Identifier 019_Attic Memoirs.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol. 7
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 325252
Reference URL