Sketch 16 - From David Pratt

FAMILY HISTORY OF PRATT/SHIRK LINES

SKETCH 16: Family Discipline

Dad’s usual discipline was to speak to each child privately in a firm but kind voice.  I have never forgotten a time when I was about 5 years old.  It was a hectic Sunday morning in our home in Wenatchee.  We all scurried about to get ready to go to church.  I felt put upon and informed Mom that I was not going to church.  I retreated up the stairs and sat down on the step just in front of Anne’s bedroom door.  It was dark and I was determined to sulk.  My big old Dad climbed the stairs, sat down beside me and put his arms around me.  I knew that he loved me and that he would not force me to go, but that he would be disappointed if I did not go to church.  I have been going ever since.

My two brothers, Richard and Leroy, learned early that they could not outrun Dad.  We three brothers all agreed that there was one line we could not cross.  Dad would not tolerate our sassing, or as we would say today, the verbal abuse of our mother and his sweetheart.  Here is Leroy’s version in his own words of how he learned that lesson:

“When I was about eight years old, our family lived on a farm in Central Washington State.  We were twenty miles from town, the only road a single dirt track.

“My best friend, George Goodwin, lived over the mountain about five miles away.  One day he came to visit.  He rode a horse which we tied up at the corral.  We were having a great time down behind the apple packing shed practicing our ‘cussing.’  The only problem was my little sister Ann kept begging to play with us.  I realize now that she must have been a lonely little girl, but being big boys, we kept chasing her away.  She would run to the house crying and tell mother her troubles.

“Finally, mom came out on the porch, called me, and said, ‘Oh son, let her play with you.’

“In an effort to prove to my friend what a big man I was, I said, ‘Oh go to hell, mom.’  Then the whole world fell on me.  I thought dad was out in the north forty, but it turned out he was just around the corner, and here he came.  He looked as big as a battleship under a full head of steam, and carried a stick that looked as big as a baseball bat.  He grabbed me and got my full attention with that stick.  After he had properly impressed me about how unwise it was to curse my mother, he threw the stick away, sat down and took me in his arms.  I saw that he was weeping, and he said, ‘Son, I love your mother so much, I just can’t bear to see her abused as you have just done.’

“The pain of the stick soon left me, but the pain in my heart from my father’s voice has remained with me to this day.

“I was never rude to my beloved mother again.  I look forward to the day when I step through the veil called death, and find my dear parents waiting for me to escort me to that God who gave me life.”

Sketch 15 - From David Pratt

My Brother Leroy

Grandpa Pete gave each of my brothers when they turned six a complete cowboy outfit including chaps and spurs. Richard also received his own horse, a mare named Molly.  Richard’s future as a cowboy was assured until Leroy came along to spoil it.

When Leroy was about 5 years old and Richard was 12 going on 13, Mom put an end to Richard riding off alone.  Perhaps in desperation to have a little peace, Mom insisted that Leroy be allowed to ride behind Richard.  Richard had a twofold dilemma.  Not only was little brother hanging onto him but Molly had to stop periodically to nurse her colt.  No cowboy worth his salt should have to put up with such goings-on!  How was he going to resolve the problem without hurting Mom?  After a few stops for the colt’s sake, a bright idea came to Richard.  Says he, “Leroy, you will never be a cowboy without a horse of your own.  The next time Molly stops to nurse her colt, all you have to do is slide off Molly and on to her colt and you will have your own horse.”

Leroy thought that was a great idea, but the moment he landed on the colt, he was promptly thrown into the dirt.  With typical Pratt enthusiasm, Richard jumped off of his horse, dusted Leroy off, and declared: “Leroy, you almost had him!  That was a great ride, let’s try it again.”  This went on for six or seven times until poor little Leroy had rivers of mud on his face where the tears had coursed down his cheeks through the dirt.  But both brothers persevered and both finally achieved their goals.     

Thereafter, the two boys would ride off happily, and as soon as they were out of sight, Leroy would transfer to his horse.  When the right time arrived, Dad announced to the family that it was time to break in the new horse.  The two boys followed him to the corral and watched anxiously as Dad put a saddle on Leroy’s horse and stepped gingerly into the saddle.  When Dad came into supper, he exclaimed: “Mother, I just don’t understand it.  That was the easiest horse I have ever broken!”  The two brothers made a pact to never tell Dad why they were all such great cowboys.

Leroy left for the Navy a few months after I was born.  My earliest memories of him are his coming home to Crescent Street in Wenatchee on leave.  He would borrow Bob Burris’ car and carry me off to the Colockum, usually singing something like “I want a paper doll to call my own.”  He instilled a love in me for family, sagebrush landscape (although mine was flat and not as hilly), meadowlarks, the flag and country; but I suspect the corny sense of humor is genetic.  I obviously had a case of hero worship as I collected the stamps of the USS Tuscaloosa from his letters and avidly followed the voyages of the USS Coral Sea.  I came close to joining the Navy the year Dad died, but somehow knew that Leroy would have advised me against it.

We spent a day together in New York City when I was 16.  Leroy made it extra special by introducing a spiritual element.  Our spiritual ties increased in the early 1960s as he would stay with Bev and me as he came for General Conferences as a young bishop.  We three brothers preached together at our mother’s funeral in 1964.  Perhaps the crowning events were in 1974 and 1975.  I was having a particularly difficult time while we were living in Lincoln, Neb.  I longed for a blessing from my brother Richard, whom I considered to be the natural patriarch of our family.  I had a dream where I asked Richard if it would be all right for Leroy to stand in his place.  In the meantime, Leroy told Cecelia that he felt prompted to travel to Nebraska to visit his brother David, and just showed up at our door unannounced to bless me.  The next year I was able to travel to Virginia and bless them.  Cecelia was promised that she would be protected by the priesthood until her appointed time to leave this life, which she would know.  In Leroy’s blessing, we felt an overwhelming sense of the presence of our earthly father.

Sketch 14 - From David Pratt

FAMILY HISTORY OF PRATT/SHIRK LINES

SKETCH 14: Two Tough Hombres (Based on Richard’s memos 63 & 65)

At wheat harvest time, Ben Pratt and Roy Peterson would often travel and work with the threshing crews.  “The grain was poured into gunny sacks, each weighing 120-140 pounds.”  The crew would test each other’s strength by getting down on all fours and with sacks of grain on their backs, they would crawl to a finish line some 10 to 12 feet away.  Ben “won with eight sacks on his back.”

Roy had trained his riding horse to allow him to get underneath and then straighten up until all four hooves cleared the ground.  Ben would sometimes bet the rest of the threshing crew that that old Swede could lift a horse completely off the ground.  If they bit, Grandpa Pete would crawl under his horse and do his thing.

Later in life, Ben came home for lunch to find a neighbor lady crying on Mom’s shoulder.  Seeing some of her bruises, he asked Mom, what the matter was after the woman had gone home.  Mom said, “Oh, Ben, didn’t you know that her husband beats her?”  Dad was so mad, he went next door, grabbed the man and let him know in no uncertain terms that if Dad ever saw the woman in that condition again, the husband would have to face Dad’s full wrath.

Christian Leroy Peterson was born in 1877 in Sevier County, Utah.  His mother was Swedish and his father was Danish.  Roy hired on as a cowboy to support his family when he was 13.  He “punched cows” all over the Southwest and spent four years in Mexico.  He could speak Swedish, Danish, Spanish and had a “working knowledge” of Navajo.  He later worked as a hunter for the Southern Pacific railway as they laid tracks across the country.  “He spent each day killing wild game to feed several hundred men.  Mostly deer, elk antelope and bear….All he had to do was shoot and bleed the animal and mark it with a flag and the butchering crew and their wagons did the rest.”  His favorite rifle was a .25-35 which he claimed had better stopping power then the traditional .30-30.  A loaded .25-35 was always kept behind the kitchen range on the Colockum.  Leroy got in trouble for firing it out the open kitchen window when he spied a varmint in the barnyard.

“Grandpa Pete was a large man and very large boned. (Photos 28-29)  I remember his thumb appeared to be as large as my wrist.  He stood 6 feet and three or four inches tall and weighed well over 225 pounds.  He always wore a very big black Stetson hat called a ten gallon hat….[In the desert he would open his canteen], dismount, pour two or three quarts of water in his hat and give his horse a drink.  Then hurriedly put his hat back on and enjoy the few drops left in the hat falling down on his head….

“The strongest word I ever heard from him was a simple ‘DAMN,’ and that but seldom.  Usually when he was aggravated he just gave a little grunt.  And I do it to this day.”

Grandpa Pete loved horses, and I’ll tell you more about horses and how he made cowboys out of my brothers Richard and Leroy next time.

Sketch 13 - From David Pratt

Richard's brother, David, has been writing up family history stories. We thought we would share them on here for anybody that might be interested!

FAMILY HISTORY OF PRATT/SHIRK LINES

SKETCH 13: Remembering my parents on what would have been their 103rd anniversary

Ben Pratt and Lilly Shirk were married on January 14th, 1911.  He was five feet ten in his prime and she was five feet four.  Both had brown hair and gray eyes.  He was outgoing with a big grin and an infectious belly laugh.  She was more reserved with a gentle smile and quiet chuckle.  They both loved to sing and dance.  They both loved their neighbors.

Richard remembered a team of horses pulling a wagon that quietly stopped in front of our ranch house.  Dad investigated and found a drunken driver who had passed out.  Dad managed to get him indoors, put him to bed, and then went out to take care of the horses.  Mom fed the man a good breakfast in the morning and then they sent him on his way.  Richard as a boy didn’t quite know what to make of it, but later wrote: “it was a lesson to me of love for your fellow beings no matter how wretched they are, which our parents had an abundance of.”

They received a wooden pump organ as a wedding present.  Mom would play while they sang in harmony together.  Dad was a tenor but could sing bass and baritone if needed.  Richard noted that Dad “could hear a tune once or twice, and then play it on the guitar” and accompany himself on the harmonica.   Melba adds that a wire harness around his head held the harmonica in place and that Dad was always singing or whistling.  My siblings could all sing in harmony and Mom made sure the girls learned to play the piano.  Dad managed to teach me to whistle but the rest of the family’s musical talent never made it to the end of the row.

Mom could draw and demonstrated artistic creativity.  Melba notes that Mom’s box always won the prize at the box socials.  Melba remembered boxes designed like a battleship, Uncle Sam’s hat, and a red barn with silo.  Mom wrote that “Most Saturday nights we danced in our front room while Melba played the piano, had chili at midnight.”  Members of the Wenatchee LDS branch would drive out after Sunday School for chicken and dumplings and homemade ice cream.  On July 24th, “we would clear the apple-shed and dance.  The men would sleep in the hay and the women in the house.”

Monday was always washday and bean soup day.  Fires would be lit out doors to keep hot water going for washing and rinsing clothes.  A big pot of beans would be simmering on the kitchen range to feed the hungry and supply mashed beans for sandwiches during the week.  The mashed beans were used like peanut butter between two thick slices of Grandma Pete’s “peasant bread.”  When my brothers were sent out to ride the range, they would be given a couple of these sandwiches in an old flour sack which they would tie to the pommel of their saddles. They would stop by a cold spring of water for lunch or even earlier on a hot day before the sandwiches could absorb the horse’s sweat.  I don’t know about bean sandwiches, but how I loved my Mom’s baked beans.

Dad never finished the third grade.  Mom made it through the sixth grade.  Both were bright as well as caring and wanted their children to all finish high school.  Two of the five who survived childhood made it and went on to get bachelors and masters degrees.  Dad hoped that one of his children would become a doctor.  I finally received a Ph.D, but as my two brothers liked to remind me, I was the kind of doctor who couldn’t help anyone!  (I did manage to caution a whole generation about bananas.)

Dad had the ability to start laughing in a movie and others around him could not help but join in.  A theater in Wenatchee (I think it was the Rialto) tried to persuade him to come to all of their comedies, but Dad’s laugh was not for sale.  He did star in a local production about a World War I soldier that was staged in the school house on the Colockum.   Mom told me that the uniform did not fit and had to be pinned in strategic places.  All went well until the soldier’s death.  Dad collapsed dramatically to the stage only to be pierced in the side by a loose pin.  He yelped and jumped to his feet in pain, but the audience was wowed by the resurrection scene of the hero.

Dad was a strong man physically but not as strong as Grandpa Pete which I’ll tell you about in the future.  Dad was particularly uptight about men who abused their wives.  He was gentle in child rearing, but all of us knew that one line we could not cross was to sass or show disrespect in any way towards our Mother.  

I’ll close this sketch with a rhyme Dad made up to be sent in a box of cookies Mom had made for Leroy.  (Rhymes were part of the humor of both father and son.  I can just hear Mom say, “Oh, Ben” as she heard the words “swear,” “junk” and “punk.”)

Our mama dear to hear her swear,

Fills daddy’s soul with deep despair.

She’s making cookies for the Navy

While daddy begs for spuds and gravy.

Between the dog, Dave, and me

We’ve licked the cake pans till their free

Of all the dough and other junk

That goes to make these cookies punk.

We hope with you they will agree

As they have the dog and Dave and me.

We’re sending you this little rhyme

To help you pass away the time.

To you, dear Son, we wish to say,

If these cookies with you too long stay,

Take Carter’s Little Liver pills

And they’ll move all your ills.

Memo #30 (Written November 1, 2002)

Memo #30

November 1, 2002   

From: R. M. Pratt

To: all I love

Re: Marriage

Last months memo on marriage was far too brief and tho basically I covered the main points. Yet I feel that I need to bare down harder on all we men! That doesn't mean you wives are free of responsibility but for the most part you automatically respond when the husbands do their part.

Now a question, a serious question to each of you husbands as tho you and I were having a face to face discussion of the matter.

Will you be happy living single eternally? Resurrected a eunuch, de sexed, totally bereft of ever associating with one of the opposite sex other than as a platonic friend. For that will be the fate of ALL MEN who do not take advantage of the great gift God is trying to give you thru the Holy law of matrimony. 

Marriage for eternity is the highest ordinance of the gospel (God’s Law) on earth and to be eternal it must be performed by a man who has received authority to act in God’s behalf and can only be performed in a holy building called a Temple. And a Temple can only be entered after its dedication, by a person who has followed the basic steps of God’s laws. Which are, 

1. Faith (belief) in Jesus Christ as our creator and Savior.

2. Put ourselves in compliance with His laws. This is called repentance. 

3. Baptism by immersion for the remission of sins by an authorized servant of God.

4. Reception of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands of authorized servants. 

5. Men must then qualify to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. This Priesthood is defined as the power of God delegated to man to act in his behalf. 

All this the Savior plainly teaches in the New Testament and other scriptures. The women do not receive the Priesthood but they receive all its blessings by obedience.

6. Having complied with the five points above a man is now qualified to take a sister of his choice who has obeyed the first 4 points above to a temple of God and enter into the holy and eternal covenant of marriage. And if both then continue to the end of mortal life keeping that holy covenant they will claim each other in the resurrection and proceed on to Godhood. Being Kings and Queens and filling their kingdom with their own posterity.

Now here is the important thing. All this must be done in this life. For this life is the time to prepare to meet God. There is no promise that we will have a second chance if we could have done it here. 

Now it doesn’t matter how long you have been living together as man and wife (until death do you part any of you can qualify in one years time to be ready to have your wife sealed (married) to you in God’s Temple. Yes only one year to comply with the simple and easy steps thus outlined.

I remember the first time I served as Bishop. Zealously I contacted all the couples in the ward who had not entered into this covenant of everlasting happiness and tried to get them to understand that mortal life is too fleeting and insecure to put it off.

One such couple in their early 30's with three lovely children met in my office at the appointed time. He was a handsome man and she was an exceptionally beautiful woman. 

At my questioning they freely expressed their love for each other and their desire to go to 

the temple and be sealed as eternal companions. I conveyed my happiness and said then lets get it done.

He said, “I can’t because you won’t give me a Temple recommend because I smoke cigarettes.”

Said I, “No problem, throw them away tonight and in only 30 days I can issue you the recommend.”

He answered, “No I like to smoke and intend to keep doing so.”

This so provoked me that I held up a piece of chalk between my thumb and forefinger (it looked somewhat like a cigarette) and said to him, “you’re telling me that you love this lousy cigarette more than you love this beautiful woman. And in 30 to 40 years you will have neither wife or tobacco. For it is not available in Heaven and it’s a sure cinch that the Devil will withhold it from all those who enter His realm.”

With that he stormed out of the office in a rage muttering. “I’m not going to quit smoking.” 

The poor wife broke into a terrible fit of weeping. And with the mother crying, all three kids also wept and wailed.

I was sorry that I had made it so dramatic, but it was true. 

Now my sons consider carefully what I have plainly taught in this memo. I promise you it is true. God will not be mocked. Or when I was a kid my Dad taught us that you “sass” me or your Mother and I’ll whale the daylights out of you and that’s what God is saying.

In plain language he is saying, “I love you. I want the best for you, now and forever and here is the way I’ve provided for you to receive it. And if you turn down this free gift, that is mockery.”

And I sent my best son, the first born in Heaven and my only begotten on earth to bring to pass this great gift.

He sweat blood in his agony in Gethsemene and on that awful cross he suffered and died that all who would believe in him might have all that I have to give which in short is ETERNAL FAMILIES.

Incidentally, God also said that those who do not accept the sacrifice Christ made for them, that they must suffer even as he did which suffering is beyond man’s imagination. Finally when they have paid for their foolishness and are pronounced clean they may come forth in the second resurrection and dwell in some degree of happiness but without wife, children etc.

As a carpenter I was once nailed to a wall by an 8 penny nail (about the size of a wooden match.) It passed through the base of the nail on my second finger of my left hand. I immediately broke into a terrible scream, I sounded like a fire truck siren and I couldn’t stop until that nail was pulled out. That gave me just a small idea of what my Savior suffered for me because he loves me  and is trying to give me the best that God has to give.

Or as the Savior said: “He who accepts my servants, accepts me, and he who accepts me accepts my Father. And he that receiveth my Father receiveth my Father’s Kingdom; therefore all that my Father hath shall be given unto him. (Doctrine & Covenants 84:36-38)

I am Christ’s servant. If you will accept this teaching by acting on it you have accepted the Savior, and the Father and will heir all that the Father has to give. To which I testify in the name of Jesus Christ Amen.

My love eternally,                      

                                Dad, grandpa, friend etc. Richard Marden Pratt