I was born January the 8th, 1889 in Logan, Utah.  My parents were John H. Anderson
and Anna Charlotte Eliason Anderson.  My father's parents were Johannes and Johanna
Anderson.  My mother's parents were Peter and Anna Marie Eliason.

     I was born at home.  There were no hospitals then in Logan.  I was delivered by
"Grandma Mac", a midwife who delivered all the babies in Cache Valley.  She delivered
all my brothers and sisters but Marie and Mel.  My father was born in Logan but his
parents were born in Sweden.  They came on a boat to America from Liverpool, I guess, 
and walked across the plains.  When they came to Logan they lived on 162 East, 4th
North.  My Grandfather Anderson built his first home there.  He took up land there and
built a house on the plot.  My grandfather was a farmer.  He had land in the north and
west part of Logan.  My Grandfather Eliason was a fisherman.  My father was the only
one of his brothers and sisters that lived.  He had a sister that lived to be married and had
two children, but then she died.  One of those children is dead and I don't know whether
the other one is or not.  Their name's were Hibbard.  They were the children of my
father's sister Anna and William Hibbard.  One of them sang in the Tabernacle Choir. 
Phil knew him very well.  He had a very fine voice.  I never knew my Grandmother
Anderson.  She died before my father was just 18 years old;  when he was on his mission
to Sweden.  She was a lady.  Everyone that knew her spoke of her as being a perfect lady. 
My Grandfather Anderson was a wonderful man, kind and very reserved, a large man. 
He always lived with us until I was about 15 or 16 years old, and then he died of old age
at the age of 83 or 84.  He was very kind to me.  I was his pet.  He called me "Lottie"  and
I was always his favorite.  He always planted the gardens in the early spring and I was the
one that dropped the seeds in the furrows.  He wouldn't allow any of the other children to
help him plant the gardens, But I could always help him.  We planted three seeds;  one
for the worms, and one that would decay, and one that would grow.  And when the
garden came up I was the only one that could go out into the garden and get radishes or
pick the peas or anything.  He wouldn't let the other kids on his garden at all, but I could
always do it.  But there's one thing that I always remember about him and that is; he used
to talk to me about my heritage and ancestors and the wonderful people that were related
to me.  And there was one woman especially that he said I looked like and I think that's
why he favored me more than he did the other children, because it was his wife's sister
the he seemed to think I resembled, and she was a very fine woman.  He used to always
say to me, "Lottie", be kind to your mother, be good to your mother.  And that's one thing
I never forgot.  He was always very concerned over my mother, very good to her.  My
ancestors were not rich people and they were not poor people.  They were what was
called "gentle folk".  My Grandfather Eliason was a large man and a very strong man.  At
one time he was said to be the strongest man in Cache Valley.  He could take on three
men at once and wrestle and overpower them.  He was a farmer and he worked on the
first railroad just before the spike was driven at Promontory Point.  He worked along with
Rube's father who was just a boy at that time.  But he and my grandmother walked across
the plains together.  When they reached Salt Lake they were married.  They were living
in Grantsville in just a little dugout and then my grandfather was sent to Cache Valley to
work and my grandmother remained with some people and worked for her board.  But
she became so homesick for my grandfather, not knowing anyone, that she decided that
she would go to Cache Valley and find out where he was working.  She tied all her
belongings in a little red handkerchief or a little shawl and started out to walk towards
Cache Valley at least 85 or 90 miles away.  And during that distance she only had one
little ride by a passerby.  But she walked through the canyon alone, and at night she'd lie
down to sleep or rest in the canyon;  she could hear the wild animals howling.  When she
got to Cache Valley she couldn't speak English.  But there was a family that someone
directed her to.  It was "Tailor" Hanson.  He was a tailor.  She was directed to his place. 
They located my grandfather over in College Ward.  He was working on the Church farm
over there.  It was a wonderful reunion when they met at Tailor Hanson's home.  They
lived in a tent and he took up some land down in the west part of the Third Ward.  They
started to build there but later they built on 3rd North and about 2nd West.  With the
winter coming on, the walls of their little house were put up, but the roof was not put on; 
so they pitched their tent in the walls of their new home and lived there for the winter.  A
few years later when I think they had just two children, my grandfather was called on a
mission back to Sweden.  And so he left his wife and children and went back.  And my
grandmother kept him on a mission by her weaving.  She was a weaver.  My 
grandmother Eliason was a fine woman.  She was small and I just loved her.  I loved to
go there and stay.  One time I stayed there for about two weeks when I had been exposed
to smallpox and I had to stay down there with her.  When the probation time was up, the
quarantine time,  and she took me back home I cried so that she took me back to her
place and I stayed with her another week.  She was so sweet.  She had her loom, weaving
loom, up in the attic and I used to go up there and help her fix the warp on her loom.  I
used to wind the carpet rags on the big shuttle.  And many times she let me help her
weave.  So I learned to weave the rugs too.

     I had a happy childhood.  I had wonderful parents.  Their main thought was making
their children happy and giving them a good bringing up.  I was born in the old house on
4th North.  When I was 8 or 10 we built the big new house which stood on the same spot
until about a year ago (1964) when it was torn down and now a mortuary stands in its
place.  I had bushels of brothers and sisters.  There were nine of us.  I was the second
oldest.  

     I went to the old Benson School that was down on the corner from our place.  And
then when I got up as high as the 8th grade I went down to the Woodruff School.  After
graduating from that I went to the B.Y. College.  Then I took private lessons in elocution
from Mrs. Ruth Bell, who's an instructor at the University of Utah.  I had some wonderful
training, valuable training, by her in the dramatic arts and different courses.  I had a good
voice in those days and I read all over in Logan and the surrounding little towns - stories,
monologues, book reviews.  

     Ever since I was big enough to look over the counter, I always used to go up to the
store with my father who was a merchant.  I loved to sell.  I went with him when he went
on buying trips.  I'd always coax him to buy certain things and I said, if you buy them I'd
guarantee to sell them.  But I was always hanging around the store.  I'd rather be down to
the store than home washing dishes and tending babies.  My father used to let me take his
little bag of money over to the bank and deposit it.  He used to let me help  him make out
the deposit when I was older, about 15 or 16.  I used to make out the deposit almost every
day and take it over to the bank.  One time, before my father was president of the bank,
the cashier of the bank asked me to come back in the vault and he brought out a thousand
dollar note and let me hold it.  He said so I could say that I had held a thousand dollar
note in my hand.  I've never seen a thousand dollar note since.  

     One of the memorable things of my youth was the spring house cleaning.  And it was
an event.  Early in the spring, on a crisp April morning we'd see Aunt 'Manda coming up
the street with her long waist apron on and bustling up there to help house clean.  And
then everything was house-cleaned.  The beds were all taken down and put on the lawn
and the springs were all washed.  On the beds upstairs we had straw ticks and we emptied
the straw out of the mattresses.  The ticks were made of heavy blue and white stripped
ticking material.  Then we'd fill them with fresh straw and when they were put back on
the beds the beds were almost sky high.  It was fun to run and jump on the beds.  But
after a few nights jumping up and down on the beds they flattened out and weren't quite
as high as they used to be.  Spring house cleaning wasn't cleaning unless you scrubbed
half the paint off all the woodwork.  Everything was scrubbed.  All the carpets were
taken up and hung on the line.  It was the job of my brother John and I to beat the rugs
and get all the dust out of them and fresh straw was put down on the floors with the rugs
and Aunt "Manda tacked the rugs down again.  Spring house cleaning had a more
significant interest for us children than just the cleaning of the house and scrubbing
because during the winter we all had to wear woolen underwear, scratchy woolen
underwear, and homemade stockings, knit stockings.  We were always scratching.  We
were always stopping and scratching the back of our legs.  Besides that we had bloomers
and a woolsey petticoat, lindsey petticoat, and on top of that a white petticoat.  And of
course in the winter we always had woolen dresses.  We had fur-lined and partly
flannel-lined overshoes.  We were just bogged down with clothes.  But anyway, after the
house cleaning was done, that was the signal for us to take off our heavy underclothes
and put on the little summer vests and bloomers.  And oh, that was a glorious feeling to
shed our old petty woolen things.

     When I was older, when I was going to the B.Y. they had a wonderful Sunday School
down at the B.Y.  So we used to go down to the B.Y. Sunday School instead of our own
ward.  One Sunday Sister Zinna Card, she was a librarian in the B.Y. at the time, talked
in tongues and I'll never forget it as long as I live.  It was the most musical voice and we
waited for the interpretation, the spirit of interpretation, and finally it was given to her
and then in her own language with the same musical voice she gave the interpretation
through the speaking of tongues.  And in that speaking in tongues she said that she would
promise every girl there that if they would keep the commandments of the Lord, not one
girl in that room would ever fall.  And the protection of the spirit of the Lord would be
with them to protect them from evil if they would keep the commandments and keep
themselves pure and virtuous.  It was a great experience.  I've never heard anyone speak
in tongues before or since.  Speaking of talking in tongues;  Grandma MacAllister, the
dear sister that brought all the babies in Cache Valley, took a liking to me and I used to
go and visit her often.  She told me of the most remarkable things that have stayed with
me all my life.  She told me that when she was a girl she had always wanted to talk in
tongues.  But she had never had that gift given to her.  But she had prayed and prayed that
she might have that gift to talk in tongues.  So one Sunday, it was a Fast and Testimony
Meeting, she went to church and she felt sure that her prayer would be answered and she
would be able to talk in tongues.  She stood up and she couldn't make one sound.  She
couldn't utter a word.  She stood there for quite awhile and couldn't even speak and she
sat down.  But she said that was a testimony to her that you don't ask for those blessings. 
Those blessings are bestowed on you by the Lord.  They're given to you; not through
asking for them.  But all that morning after, she wasn't able to speak.  She said that the
Lord, instead of answering her prayers, took her own tongue, speaking voice, away from
her so that she couldn't speak.  She said that was a great testimony to her that you don't
ask for those blessings, that if the Lord wants you to have them he'll give them to you. 
She told me a lot of wonderful things..  I don't know if I should this or not, but one day
when I was up there visiting her and she was talking about genealogy (she was a great
temple worker), she was telling me about an incident when she was going to do sealings
in the Temple.  She had her sheets all made out and her record all made out and she
thought they were correct and she said she was having one woman sealed to a certain
man, when the man appeared to her.  And she pointed to a spot right there on her carpet
and she said that man stood right there on that spot and told me that I was sealing him to
another woman that wasn't his wife.  But she used to tell me many, many wonderful
faith-promoting stories.  I used to go up and visit her every once in a while and she'd just
sit there and tell me these wonderful things.  

     There were never any Christmases like the Christmases that we had when we were
children  We didn't have all these fancy decorations that we have now.  But we had a
great big tree and we'd make all our own decorations for the Christmas tree.  We'd make
chains out of popcorn and pieces of colored paper in between each kernel of popcorn. 
And then we'd go out in the yard and get straw and we'd cut that up into little pieces
about an inch long and the square papers about an inch square and then we'd make chains
out of pieces of straw and then a piece of colored paper and then strung and it was really
pretty and we decorated the tree with apples and oranges and cookies that my mother
would bake, all kinds of cookies.  I can remember the first Christmas that we ever had a
piece of candy.  My piece of candy was the scissors.  The boys got different pieces - little
men.  They had eaten all theirs before I had eaten the scissors that were for me.  But it
was the best candy I've ever tasted in all my life.  It lasted a long time because I just took
a little tiny nibble of it.  We'd go upstairs early and go to bed.  But I don't think any of us
slept and I think we all had temperatures of about a hundred and fifteen all night long. 
Then in the morning we were not allowed to come downstairs until we heard the whistle
after Santa Claus had been there.  Then my father and mother would get up early and
light the candles on the Christmas tree.  We had candles about six inches long.  We heard
this whistle and then we had to be dressed before we came down.  And when that whistle
blew, oh we tumbled out of bed and we just threw our clothes on and rushed down stairs
and we just nearly knocked each other over all trying to get down the stairs at once.  We
opened the door into the dining room, we always had the Christmas tree in that great big
dining room, and there that three was all ablaze.  That was the grandest sight I think I've
ever seen in my life, a sight that just impressed me more than anything else.  I'll never
forget it.  We'd dance around the Christmas tree and we'd receive our gifts and oh, we
always had such beautiful gifts.  My folks made so much of our birthdays and Christmas. 
Oh, it was a memorable day.  We always got dolls.  I remember one Christmas three of us
got a big doll.  I guess it was about 20 or 22 inches long - a great big doll, made
beautifully dressed.  My mother had hired some lady to make the dresses.  Then we got a
little doll about 12 inches long and that was to play with.  Our big dolls were hung in the
parlor on the wall.  We'd go in there occasionally and look at those big dolls and wish we
could play with them.  But we got the little dolls to play with.  But oh we got all kinds of
lovely gifts.  Then right after, after we had breakfast and looked at our toys, my mother
fixed up a great big basket full of gifts and cookies and goodies, Christmas goodies, and
then we all took that down to Aunt Beth's place.  She lived in the 3rd Ward and we
shared our gifts and things with them.  And then they always shared their gifts back with
us.  She was my mother's oldest brother's wife and she was a wonderful woman.  We all
called her Aunt Beth - her name was Barbara.  But that was a happy time in our lives. 
There was one special Christmas, that I just simply could not stand it any longer and I got
the kids up.  I guess it was about 2:30 and we didn't wait for the whistle.  I got the kids up
and woke them and the little kids (Geneva and Luella) and drug them downstairs.  My
parents weren't up yet and so we were looking around at the Christmas presents to see
what we were getting and Geneva got some kind of a little furry animal and it frightened
her and she started to cry and of course that woke my parents up and believe me we got a
Scotch blessing.  We were ushered upstairs in double-quick time.  I was always the
ringleader.  Whether I was or not, I got the blame for it.  No matter what happened in my
childhood I was the one that started it and I got the blame for everything.  If anything was
missing, Charlotte put it away.  Charlotte hid it.  I always got the blame for everything.

     When I was a kid I loved pretty shoes.  But my father was very practical and he had a
store and he had some kind of shoes that he sold.  The name of them was "District 76". 
And they were heavy, heavy good old durable shoes.  And every time my shoes wore out
I'd go down to the store hoping and praying that I'd get a nice pair of fine shoes.  But I
always had a pair of "District 76" shoes to try on.  And they would pinch me here and
they'd pinch me there and then he'd bring down a half a size larger and I'd try those on
and they still pinched me and by the time I was worn down why I went out with a pair of
shoes that were much too large because they pinched me - pinched my pride instead of
my feet.  Oh, that was an eyesore in my life; those darned old "District 76" shoes.

     This neighbor we had, we called her Gusta, and this child kicked her on the knee and I
guess it caused her to have cancer of the knee or something.  She lived in one little room
in a house just west of our place that she rented from the neighbors.  So the doctors came
up there and had to take her leg off.  In those days they didn't take them to the hospital or
anything.  The doctor came up there and sawed her leg off.  My mother was always the
good neighbor and everything, and Aunt 'Manda was there to our place and they got a
nice box and lined it with cotton batten and then silk on top of it and brought the leg over
to our place and dressed it - put a stocking on it and put it in this box.  We were all
locked in Momma's bedroom.  There was John and Joe and me and we were fighting with
each other trying to push each other away from the keyhole, trying to look through the
keyhole to see what we could see.  Oh, we were just so curious.  We wanted to see what
was going on.  But we were so busy pushing each other away from the keyhole that we
didn't get to see anything.  That leg was buried in our lot and then as kids we always used
to go around the lot looking for any little raise in the ground where that leg might be
buried.

     We always had sleigh riding parties.  We had this great big sleigh filled with straw or
hay and quilts on top of it.  And then we all sat around in the sleigh and my father took us
sleigh riding;  all over Logan, up and down, out in the country.  Oh, that was fun.  And
the sleigh bells on the horses - we had sleigh bells on the horses, and the jingling of those
bells.  Oh, that was fun.

     And then in the summer we always went camping up the canyon.  We looked forward
to that more than anything.  That was our big outing for the summer.  And it just lasted a
week, but we prepared for it for weeks and weeks.  And then we pitched the tent.  My
father would break down great big limbs of trees and spread the floor and then put the
canvas on top of that and quilts and blankets.  And we had one great big family bed there
across the tent.  But the boys, they slept in the big white covered wagon.  And we'd sit
around the campfire.  Now we always had a great big campfire at night and we'd sit
around there and sing songs.  Then the sheep herders farther up the canyon herding sheep
during the summer always used to come down to our camp and sit around at night and
sing with us.  Then in the daytime everyone of us children had to learn to shoot.  My
father would line us up.  We took our turns in learning how to handle a gun, put the
bullets in.  And then he'd put the target up and we all learned how to shoot so that we
were pretty good marksmen.  After we were married when Marv Larsen was working for
Dad and we went up the canyon on a ride or something and he had his 22 with him and I
outshot both Dad and Marv Larsen.  But we all learned how to shoot.  And then we'd play
"kick-the-can" and "run my sheep run".  Oh, we had more fun.  My father always had
such little treats for us and he did most of the cooking too.  One thing that always tasted
the best was pork chops and corn.  Then of course we would fish at night.  He had these
great big gum boots on, waist boots.  He would wade out into the river and we'd sit on the
bank and watch him catch fish.  We had those fish when they were nice and fresh, and a
great big coffee pot that we had hot water in and we all had cocoa and canned cream. 
That's why I always use canned cream in Postum.  We always went fishing down in Big
Pete's pasture,  learned how to fish and had nice meals.

     I was always hanging around the store and I just loved pretty things.  I wasn't very old
when fans were the rage then and my father had ordered this beautiful set of fans.  I guess
I was only about 12 or 13 years old then.  And they were just covered with sequins or
sparklers and these pretty pink feathers.  Well, the pink fan was the one I liked the best so
I hid it down underneath the counter so that no one would sell it.  Then I would go and
ask my father if I could please have that pink fan.  Fans were for ladies.  They weren't for
kids.  And he'd always say no, you can't have that fan.  So I wouldn't say anything more,
but the next day I'd be standing on the back of his chair teetering back and forth.  He had
one of those swivel chairs that rock back and forth.  And so then the next day I'd ask him
if I could please have that fan.  And he'd say no, you can't.  You can't have it.  So this
went on for a week, or more than that.  Every day I'd ask him if I could have the fan.  It
was always the same answer, until finally I guess I wore him down.  So this one day I put
my arms around his neck and I said, "Oh, Papa, can't I please have that pink fan ?"  And
he swiveled around in his chair and he looked at me and he said, "Take it, you little
extravagant hussy!"  I jumped down off the back of that chair and I just scooted down the
aisle back of the counter and got this fan out where I had hid it.  And then, the next
Sunday when I took that fan to Sunday School I was the envy of all the kids in my class. 
They were all thinking that I was so rich and I could have such lovely things.  I had a silk
dress and this beautiful feather fan.  

     Believe me, I used it to the best advantage.  I had a lot of beaus before I ever saw Dad. 
The first year at the B.Y. was when I first noticed him.  And he was about the homeliest
boy in the B.Y. College.  He had great big freckles all over his face.  There was
something about him that I fell for.  He was going with some other girl.  I can remember
once we had a party in the 4th Ward.  It was a box lunch party and I had made this nice
lunch and they raffled off the box.  I went to this party with another fellow.  I didn't think
Dad would be at that party in the 4th Ward, but he had gone in with his cousin or
somebody.  So there he was and I had been going with him quite steady.  And so, I went
home with him.  The other fellow though, bid on my basket and got it.  At the B.Y. I was
always in their plays and always had the lead.  I loved to be in plays and act and when I
got older I loved to direct plays.  I had to go home late at night and so I'd go home with
one of the fellows that was in the play.  But Dad would walk on the sidewalk across the
street, mad as a hornet.  
  
     I was 19 when I married Dad and he was 21.  When we first got married we lived in
Cove, Utah in a little house that love built, on Rube's father's property.  It was a little
frame house on top of a hill with an orchard all the way around.  In the spring when all
the apple blossoms were in bloom it was a sight to behold.  It was a little house that
belonged to his mother - that his mother lived in.  It had one great big room and then it
had a kitchen and dining room combined that we had, and a bedroom upstairs.  And then
it had a shanty out in back that was attached to the house, and the cellar.  It was cute. 
When we were married my father gave us everything we had for housekeeping.  He gave
us all our furniture.  He furnished the house and gave us everything we had.  We didn't
have to buy a single thing when we got married - nothing.  The first thing we bought was
a bookcase.  And oh my, that was fun.  We went out and bought something ourselves. 
But we didn't have to buy a single thing.  We had that opportunity of going with him to
the furniture store before we were married and pick out the furniture.  Then Rube came
down with a great big hay rack and put all the furniture on and took it up to Cove.  I had
a lot of fun in that old house.  I always say that I spent my honeymoon with Rube's
brother Dave.  He had to go to work.  It was daylight when he went in the morning and he
worked until after dark at night.  Dave was working on his father's farm and so we'd go
sleigh riding and go all over together - go to market over in Richmond and do our
shopping and his sister Inez - and the three of us, we just went around every place
together.  I didn't see so much of Dad at that time right after we were first married.  He
had to work early and late.  

     But I was such a homesick person.  I never had been away from home much in my life
and two weeks was the longest I could stay away from home.  I always had a bird and I'd
put a paper around my bird cage and take my bird and go back to Logan and stay a week. 
And every two weeks I'd catch the old train and go back to Logan.