 Lloyd Jeppsen |  Wanda Jeppsen Adams |
Note- One year after Nels Peter Jeppsen Jr and Luella Nelson’s children were grown Ardell Jeppsen asked his sister Wanda Jeppsen Adams to furnish something she remembered from her life for a family reunion. The following is from a letter she sent him.
Dear Ardell,
I was having a difficult time thinking of what I could write from my life that would be of interest to others. Then it came to me that most of your life you were too young to remember your oldest brother, Lloyd. You were only eight days old when he died of pneumonia. We had moved down from Mantua and were living in Brigham City that year, because Lloyd and I were both in High School and Mother and Daddy wanted to be with us. Lloyd was a freshman (9th grade) and I was a junior.
Lloyd had just recovered from the measles, but said he felt well enough to go to a football game at the high school. The afternoon of the game it turned cold and stormy and he felt chilled when he got home. He developed a high fever and Dr. Fister diagnosed his illness as pneumonia.
Ardell you were born on November 29, 1926, and Lloyd died on December 7th. Mother was in bed throughout Lloyd’s illness and death. Grandma Nelson came to attend to Lloyd and I stayed out of school to care for Mom.
Your birth had been difficult and I can’t imagine the stamina it took for her to stay in bed. She was not even able to attend his funeral. I am sure she could not have endured it if it hadn’t been for her great faith and belief in God and of the salvation of the dead.
I remember Grandma put a mustard plaster on Lloyd’s chest which was standard procedure for chest congestion in those days. When Dr. Fister came to see him he snatched that plaster off and threw it across the room and swore. But Dr. Fister’s remedies didn’t help either.
While he was so very ill and gasping for each breath and the congestion was rattling in his chest, he ask me to get his patriarchal blessing and read it him. I could not for it was left in Mantua in Mother’s treasure trunk. I have always been sorry that I couldn’t have done that for him.
Even at that time I was sure he would get well and the shock and sorrow was great when Daddy woke me from my sleep and told me that Lloyd had left us. There was no more sleep that night as I listened to the constant howling of Lloyd’s big black dog as he sat on the cellar roof and gazed through the window straight into the room where Lloyd lay in bed.
The next morning I rode with my father (in the Model T Ford) to Mantua to make arrangements for the funeral. After they were made we went out to Grandma Jeppesen’s for awhile. Daddy had let Lloyd’s dog come with us. When we started for home, we forgot about the dog, but he came running after us, accompanied by a dog of Grandma’s. They were tussling and fighting a little and Lloyd’s dog bounded in front of the car and died on impact.
I remember the good times Lloyd and I had playing together in Mantua. We, with our cousins, Joysa and Helen Jensen, we played ball, hide and seek, kick the can, climbed trees, roamed the hills, and sailed boats in the creek.
Best of all was when Lloyd and I rode our horses. I remember once we rode over to Paradise Creek. As we were coming home I was riding our horse, Polly. She always had to be the lead horse. As we galloped down the hill, through a shallow creek and around a sharp curve, there in the middle of the road was a huge rattler, all coiled and ready to strike. Polly planted her feet and stopped so suddenly that I was thrown over the saddle horn. I kept myself from landing on the snake, by clinging onto the mane and ear of the horse.
The rattler uncoiled and slithered into the bushes and maple trees. Lloyd jumped off his horse and went after the rattler with a big stick. All I could do was jump up and down and scream at him to come back. I was sure the snake would be waiting for him, but it was not to be found.
I remember another time when Lloyd got on old Polly, with a long leather belt with a heavy buckle on one end. He said he was going hunting rattlers. I know of several other times he went and came back with a trophies.
To me Lloyd seemed more sober and responsible that the rest of us. Bishop Hansen said at his funeral, “I am sure that if the young man’s faith could have saved him, this boy would have been alive today. I told the people of our ward last Sunday, that it had been a long time since I had seen the amount of faith exhibited by a young boy when we administered to him. He was very thankful for things that that were done for him. I recall that he thanked us two or three times before we left, for coming to administer to him.”
Lloyd loved the outdoors and together we followed the trails and climbed Maple Hill just south of the fish hatchery. We picked hands full of wild flowers to take home to Mother. Flowers and birds abounded on the mountain. We were always watching for new ones and trying to identify them.
Lloyd was allowed to use the 22 rifle to shoot ground squirrels and king fishers. Ground squirrels abounded all around the farm and did great damage to the crops. On one occasion he asked me to go with him. After many squirrels had bit the dust at his accurate shots he allowed me to take a turn. I was as good at missing, as he was at hitting, and he was somewhat disgusted with me, but not so much as the time I missed the king fisher. King fishers fed on the fingerlings in the shallow channels. Lloyd was the protector of the small fish and it was woe unto the king fishers that were sighted by him.
Lloyd suffered pain without a whimper. I have forgotten just how he broke his arm but it was a bad break, just above the wrist. The doctor tried to set it several times and finally had to operate. They found when trying to set it, they had been trying to turn the bone the wrong way. This was before the day of the X-ray. Another time he was bitten by a muskrat he had trapped and had to have a tetanus shot.
His leaving was a great loss to us. I am sure though that he is in a better place now and is doing the things that were promised in his Patriarchal Blessing.
Dear Ardell,
I was having a difficult time thinking of what I could write from my life that would be of interest to others. Then it came to me that most of your life you were too young to remember your oldest brother, Lloyd. You were only eight days old when he died of pneumonia. We had moved down from Mantua and were living in Brigham City that year, because Lloyd and I were both in High School and Mother and Daddy wanted to be with us. Lloyd was a freshman (9th grade) and I was a junior.
Lloyd had just recovered from the measles, but said he felt well enough to go to a football game at the high school. The afternoon of the game it turned cold and stormy and he felt chilled when he got home. He developed a high fever and Dr. Fister diagnosed his illness as pneumonia.
Ardell you were born on November 29, 1926, and Lloyd died on December 7th. Mother was in bed throughout Lloyd’s illness and death. Grandma Nelson came to attend to Lloyd and I stayed out of school to care for Mom.
Your birth had been difficult and I can’t imagine the stamina it took for her to stay in bed. She was not even able to attend his funeral. I am sure she could not have endured it if it hadn’t been for her great faith and belief in God and of the salvation of the dead.
I remember Grandma put a mustard plaster on Lloyd’s chest which was standard procedure for chest congestion in those days. When Dr. Fister came to see him he snatched that plaster off and threw it across the room and swore. But Dr. Fister’s remedies didn’t help either.
While he was so very ill and gasping for each breath and the congestion was rattling in his chest, he ask me to get his patriarchal blessing and read it him. I could not for it was left in Mantua in Mother’s treasure trunk. I have always been sorry that I couldn’t have done that for him.
Even at that time I was sure he would get well and the shock and sorrow was great when Daddy woke me from my sleep and told me that Lloyd had left us. There was no more sleep that night as I listened to the constant howling of Lloyd’s big black dog as he sat on the cellar roof and gazed through the window straight into the room where Lloyd lay in bed.
The next morning I rode with my father (in the Model T Ford) to Mantua to make arrangements for the funeral. After they were made we went out to Grandma Jeppesen’s for awhile. Daddy had let Lloyd’s dog come with us. When we started for home, we forgot about the dog, but he came running after us, accompanied by a dog of Grandma’s. They were tussling and fighting a little and Lloyd’s dog bounded in front of the car and died on impact.
I remember the good times Lloyd and I had playing together in Mantua. We, with our cousins, Joysa and Helen Jensen, we played ball, hide and seek, kick the can, climbed trees, roamed the hills, and sailed boats in the creek.
Best of all was when Lloyd and I rode our horses. I remember once we rode over to Paradise Creek. As we were coming home I was riding our horse, Polly. She always had to be the lead horse. As we galloped down the hill, through a shallow creek and around a sharp curve, there in the middle of the road was a huge rattler, all coiled and ready to strike. Polly planted her feet and stopped so suddenly that I was thrown over the saddle horn. I kept myself from landing on the snake, by clinging onto the mane and ear of the horse.
The rattler uncoiled and slithered into the bushes and maple trees. Lloyd jumped off his horse and went after the rattler with a big stick. All I could do was jump up and down and scream at him to come back. I was sure the snake would be waiting for him, but it was not to be found.
I remember another time when Lloyd got on old Polly, with a long leather belt with a heavy buckle on one end. He said he was going hunting rattlers. I know of several other times he went and came back with a trophies.
To me Lloyd seemed more sober and responsible that the rest of us. Bishop Hansen said at his funeral, “I am sure that if the young man’s faith could have saved him, this boy would have been alive today. I told the people of our ward last Sunday, that it had been a long time since I had seen the amount of faith exhibited by a young boy when we administered to him. He was very thankful for things that that were done for him. I recall that he thanked us two or three times before we left, for coming to administer to him.”
Lloyd loved the outdoors and together we followed the trails and climbed Maple Hill just south of the fish hatchery. We picked hands full of wild flowers to take home to Mother. Flowers and birds abounded on the mountain. We were always watching for new ones and trying to identify them.
Lloyd was allowed to use the 22 rifle to shoot ground squirrels and king fishers. Ground squirrels abounded all around the farm and did great damage to the crops. On one occasion he asked me to go with him. After many squirrels had bit the dust at his accurate shots he allowed me to take a turn. I was as good at missing, as he was at hitting, and he was somewhat disgusted with me, but not so much as the time I missed the king fisher. King fishers fed on the fingerlings in the shallow channels. Lloyd was the protector of the small fish and it was woe unto the king fishers that were sighted by him.
Lloyd suffered pain without a whimper. I have forgotten just how he broke his arm but it was a bad break, just above the wrist. The doctor tried to set it several times and finally had to operate. They found when trying to set it, they had been trying to turn the bone the wrong way. This was before the day of the X-ray. Another time he was bitten by a muskrat he had trapped and had to have a tetanus shot.
His leaving was a great loss to us. I am sure though that he is in a better place now and is doing the things that were promised in his Patriarchal Blessing.
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