While on our mission in Toronto, we were asked to plan a Dominion Day ward picnic that was like our old Lewisville Park celebrations, which was still being talked about months later. On the day of the picnic one of the leaders had an assignment to bring sandbag weights for the volleyball stands but he forgot. My husband had a minor miracle occur. It was a holiday and stores were closed, so he just started driving around trying to think of something. He turned into a cul-de-sac where there was a pile of 2' by 4' cement slabs with a sign saying, "free take some." They were perfect for the job and the bishop said he would keep them to use next year.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
LDSW #11 - Why We Decided to Serve a Church Mission
In late1999 my husband and I had been on a visit to the Portland Temple. On our way home that evening he asked me how I felt about going on a mission for the Church from September to September. He was a white water rafting guide and only wanted to miss one rafting season. I had several reasons why I didn’t think it would be a good idea, the major one being that my mother was living in an assisted living facility and I was her main moral support. I don’t know what cosmic beings heard that conversation, but my mother died exactly one week later. That was in February of 2000.
One of my sons who came to the funeral had a discussion with me. He pointed out that we had reasonably good health and we were out of debt. We had a regular pension income. He called it a window of opportunity. I had received a modest inheritance and felt that going on a mission is something my mother would approve of.
We started the process of applying to go on a mission. We had a lot of household goods we needed to sell or give away so over the summer we held three garage sales. During the last hour of our third sale I literally saw people come to the sale to buy the very things that were left. We still had some big items that weren’t in the sale, and we only had three days to get rid of them while cleaning house before our renters were to move into our home. In those two days we sold a car, had someone offer to store our washer and dryer in their shed, and eight other “miracles.” By the day before we entered the Missionary Training Center all ten items were taken care of. There is no doubt in my mind that we were supposed to go. We entered the MTC in late August of 2000 prior to our serving in the Toronto Ontario East Mission. It was a great mission!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Spiritual Experiences - LDSW #9 and #10
LDSW #9
When I was living at Fort Devens, MA as a young bride, we belonged to a Servicemen’s Group of our church and attended Sunday meetings at a non-denominal chapel on the base. Two missionaries from our church also attended there and about 15 service families. One Sunday after the meetings several of us were standing in a small group, just chatting. The missionaries approached the group and one, an Elder Keith S. from Brigham City, UT, whom I had never known before he came to Massachusetts, shook my hand and asked, “How are you today, Sister Gustaveson? “ ”I looked at him in surprise and asked, “Where did you hear that name?” Startled, he replied, “That is your name isn’t it?” I answered, “That’s my maiden name, nobody here knows it. Where did you hear it?” He replied, “I just knew it.” We concluded that he must have known me in our pre-existant lives.
LDSW #10
My father passed away in February, 1989 and my grandson Scott was born March 12, 1990. When he was about four years old he pointed to a photograph of my parents in his home. He asked who the man in the photo was and was told he was his father’s Grandpa Gustaveson. He then told his mother, “He brought me to you.”
When I was living at Fort Devens, MA as a young bride, we belonged to a Servicemen’s Group of our church and attended Sunday meetings at a non-denominal chapel on the base. Two missionaries from our church also attended there and about 15 service families. One Sunday after the meetings several of us were standing in a small group, just chatting. The missionaries approached the group and one, an Elder Keith S. from Brigham City, UT, whom I had never known before he came to Massachusetts, shook my hand and asked, “How are you today, Sister Gustaveson? “ ”I looked at him in surprise and asked, “Where did you hear that name?” Startled, he replied, “That is your name isn’t it?” I answered, “That’s my maiden name, nobody here knows it. Where did you hear it?” He replied, “I just knew it.” We concluded that he must have known me in our pre-existant lives.
LDSW #10
My father passed away in February, 1989 and my grandson Scott was born March 12, 1990. When he was about four years old he pointed to a photograph of my parents in his home. He asked who the man in the photo was and was told he was his father’s Grandpa Gustaveson. He then told his mother, “He brought me to you.”
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Getting a Prescription Refilled
I have been through a hoop--so to speak, which took me two months and $80 to jump through. I have taken Avandia since 1999, when it first became available on the market. Despite its bad press, it has kept my type 2 diabetes under excellent control with few or no side effects.
A year ago we had to go onto a new health plan. After begging and pleading I was allowed to have a one-year prescription. About December 9th I began the process of renewal. The renewal was due for the first of this year. Thanks to three three-day mail holidays and an ice storm in the Northwest, plus an intern pharmacist who tried to call me, and did't know I don't text or answer voice mail messages, and he only worked weekends so that was another delay in getting vitally needed information to me. I finally learned that the manufacturer had stopped manufacturing the prescription. I called several well-known pharmacies and none of them had any Avandia to dispense,
Well that was only partially true. I contacted the company involved and was told I had to apply to be admitted to their access program. I spent more time finding the web site without help, and finally downloaded an application form, but that wasn't all, and my meager supply of pills was dwindling. I cut them in half to make them last longer, even though my blood sugar readings went somewhat higher. I had to send the application to my doctor because I am spending the winter in Arizona and he is in a northwestern state --more delays and waiting for phone calls. Everyone I talked to knew I was running out of the pills. Finally the doctor decided to send another kind of prescription to the mail order pharmacy for me to try. I made the online order but stopped short when I was charged $646.50 for the substitute. (Avandia only cost about $240 for 90 days supply and I was already in the prescription doughnut hole). My credit card could not stand such an increase that month. I cancelled the order.
I went without any Avandia for the next 10 days, controlling the blood sugar with smaller amounts of a companion drug and watching my diet. Except for episodes of diaharrea from the companion medication being too strong, I did fairly well. I guess I had weaned myself off Avandia when I was taking the half pills.
So finally, on Feb. 7th I got a phone call telling me I was accepted into the access program and my doctor's correct prescription was entered with the only pharmacy that dispenses Avandia, who contacted my regular mail order pharmacy to set up my account, and by the miracle of next day mail, a 30-day supply with 11 refills available arrived at my door on Feb. 9th. If this is part of the O'Bama/Medicare Part D plan what happens next January 1st?
A year ago we had to go onto a new health plan. After begging and pleading I was allowed to have a one-year prescription. About December 9th I began the process of renewal. The renewal was due for the first of this year. Thanks to three three-day mail holidays and an ice storm in the Northwest, plus an intern pharmacist who tried to call me, and did't know I don't text or answer voice mail messages, and he only worked weekends so that was another delay in getting vitally needed information to me. I finally learned that the manufacturer had stopped manufacturing the prescription. I called several well-known pharmacies and none of them had any Avandia to dispense,
Well that was only partially true. I contacted the company involved and was told I had to apply to be admitted to their access program. I spent more time finding the web site without help, and finally downloaded an application form, but that wasn't all, and my meager supply of pills was dwindling. I cut them in half to make them last longer, even though my blood sugar readings went somewhat higher. I had to send the application to my doctor because I am spending the winter in Arizona and he is in a northwestern state --more delays and waiting for phone calls. Everyone I talked to knew I was running out of the pills. Finally the doctor decided to send another kind of prescription to the mail order pharmacy for me to try. I made the online order but stopped short when I was charged $646.50 for the substitute. (Avandia only cost about $240 for 90 days supply and I was already in the prescription doughnut hole). My credit card could not stand such an increase that month. I cancelled the order.
I went without any Avandia for the next 10 days, controlling the blood sugar with smaller amounts of a companion drug and watching my diet. Except for episodes of diaharrea from the companion medication being too strong, I did fairly well. I guess I had weaned myself off Avandia when I was taking the half pills.
So finally, on Feb. 7th I got a phone call telling me I was accepted into the access program and my doctor's correct prescription was entered with the only pharmacy that dispenses Avandia, who contacted my regular mail order pharmacy to set up my account, and by the miracle of next day mail, a 30-day supply with 11 refills available arrived at my door on Feb. 9th. If this is part of the O'Bama/Medicare Part D plan what happens next January 1st?
Friday, January 6, 2012
LDSW #8 Finding Uncle Jay Brown
LDSW #8 - Finding Uncle Jay Brown
My Grandmother, Leila, had two brothers and two sisters. Over the years I have collected a lot of family history along with names and dates. One of our “dead ends” concerned Grandma’s brother, Jay. All she could tell us was that he had married a woman from their hometown of Cardston, Alberta named Fern Caldwell. They had three children and lived somewhere near the Alberta-British Columbia border at Blairmore, AB, a mining town. In the late 1940s Uncle Jay turned up living in Vanport, Oregon, next to Portland, where my parents lived. He had a wife called Belle. He came to visit my parents and dad took a picture of him. He got a loan from my dad, left his fine carpenter tools and toolbox with dad for collateral, and moved to San Francisco.
He later sent dad the money he had borrowed and dad mailed the toolbox and tools to him. That was the last anyone in the family heard of him for many years.
There was a mystery no one could solve which complicated the search for him. My grandmother owned a picture postcard Jay sent to their mother. It showed Jay dressed as an Indian brave standing next to a young Indian woman. The inscription said “Mother, how do you like my new Indian wife?” signed Jay. We wondered if he had actually married her.
In the 1980s, my two widowed Aunts while serving a mission at the Family History Library in Salt Lake City had an opportunity to work on their own families while there. They found a death certificate for Jay Brown, who died 13 Feb 1973 in San Francisco, CA. It was the right Jay Brown.
In 1993, mom’s sister-in-law, Edna Fisher Duce (married to mom’s brother Ken) made a trip to Oregon and she visited with mom. During the visit Aunt Edna said, “Guess who I met at my high school class reunion last week when I was in Kelowna, BC ? Mom had no idea. “It was Jay’s son, Max Brown, who still lives in Kelowna.” Strangely, Aunt Edna was killed in a car accident just a week later in Saskatchewan. After mom told me about Max Brown I got on the phone and called Information to see if a number was listed for him in Kelowna. It was, so I called him and asked for more family information.
He wrote me a letter telling the circumstances of why Jay left his family, and they were very poor during The Depression. He told me about his brother and sister, and how well they liked their stepfather, who raised them. In his letter he mentioned that after they were grown, he and his sister and their spouses, made a trip to Bakersfield, CA to meet him. They were introduced to Ida, as Jay's third wife. He wrote that they had no feeling for him and supposed the feeling was mutual.
Fast forward to August 2011. I had entered many names into my family trees registered in Ancestry.com. This is a database of family names that helps distant relatives working on the same lines find each other. Actually Ancestry sent me a message that a picture of an Ida Benn had been added to another person’s tree on the Brown family. I wrote to Rosemary Reeves, who was the granddaughter of Jay Brown’s third wife, Ida
I learned that Rosemary’s mother died when she was young and she had been raised by Ida. In our correspondence by emails, I was able to share Jay’s history about his first family in Canada, and she filled me in on Jay’s life in California.
There is still one question to be resolved about Jay’s life. Grandma Leila said that Jay worked for a relative she called H. D. Brown, who had something to do with owning or managing the Santa Anita racetrack. These are the memories of two kids around six to ten years old (Rosemary and myself):
A Wikipedia history of Sanita Anita did not mention H.D. Brown. My family tree contains several names that could be H.D. Brown born in the 1890s up to 1908, which could fit the criteria, but none in California. Perhaps a clue can yet be found, as Rosemary Reeves said her Aunt Mercy married a Weir “Blackie” Chadwick about the same time as Ida and Jay were married in the 1960s, and she thinks Jay and Blackie knew each other before their marriages while working on construction projects for the government in Nevada and California. She wrote that Blackie’s brother drove in the sulky races at Santa Anita and his sister was an exercise girl there. I also think when Jay lived at Vanport, that he went to dog races with my dad, so he probably gambled too. This might explain what happened to his first family living in poor conditions or why he didn’t go back for them.
I do not think all of these clues just came to me by coincidence, and I hope I can learn the rest of Jay’s story.
In 1974 I made a trip to Cardston and researched what I could glean on my relatives from the town library and looked at some old issues of the Alberta Star from the early 1900s. After I returned home I sent, through inter-library loan, for a role of microfilm from the paper. I came across a picture of an Indian couple and learned that mom’s Uncle Jay and the young woman had won prizes for having the best costumes at a costume party. That solved that mystery. He did not have an Indian wife.
My Grandmother, Leila, had two brothers and two sisters. Over the years I have collected a lot of family history along with names and dates. One of our “dead ends” concerned Grandma’s brother, Jay. All she could tell us was that he had married a woman from their hometown of Cardston, Alberta named Fern Caldwell. They had three children and lived somewhere near the Alberta-British Columbia border at Blairmore, AB, a mining town. In the late 1940s Uncle Jay turned up living in Vanport, Oregon, next to Portland, where my parents lived. He had a wife called Belle. He came to visit my parents and dad took a picture of him. He got a loan from my dad, left his fine carpenter tools and toolbox with dad for collateral, and moved to San Francisco.
He later sent dad the money he had borrowed and dad mailed the toolbox and tools to him. That was the last anyone in the family heard of him for many years.
There was a mystery no one could solve which complicated the search for him. My grandmother owned a picture postcard Jay sent to their mother. It showed Jay dressed as an Indian brave standing next to a young Indian woman. The inscription said “Mother, how do you like my new Indian wife?” signed Jay. We wondered if he had actually married her.
In the 1980s, my two widowed Aunts while serving a mission at the Family History Library in Salt Lake City had an opportunity to work on their own families while there. They found a death certificate for Jay Brown, who died 13 Feb 1973 in San Francisco, CA. It was the right Jay Brown.
In 1993, mom’s sister-in-law, Edna Fisher Duce (married to mom’s brother Ken) made a trip to Oregon and she visited with mom. During the visit Aunt Edna said, “Guess who I met at my high school class reunion last week when I was in Kelowna, BC ? Mom had no idea. “It was Jay’s son, Max Brown, who still lives in Kelowna.” Strangely, Aunt Edna was killed in a car accident just a week later in Saskatchewan. After mom told me about Max Brown I got on the phone and called Information to see if a number was listed for him in Kelowna. It was, so I called him and asked for more family information.
He wrote me a letter telling the circumstances of why Jay left his family, and they were very poor during The Depression. He told me about his brother and sister, and how well they liked their stepfather, who raised them. In his letter he mentioned that after they were grown, he and his sister and their spouses, made a trip to Bakersfield, CA to meet him. They were introduced to Ida, as Jay's third wife. He wrote that they had no feeling for him and supposed the feeling was mutual.
Fast forward to August 2011. I had entered many names into my family trees registered in Ancestry.com. This is a database of family names that helps distant relatives working on the same lines find each other. Actually Ancestry sent me a message that a picture of an Ida Benn had been added to another person’s tree on the Brown family. I wrote to Rosemary Reeves, who was the granddaughter of Jay Brown’s third wife, Ida
I learned that Rosemary’s mother died when she was young and she had been raised by Ida. In our correspondence by emails, I was able to share Jay’s history about his first family in Canada, and she filled me in on Jay’s life in California.
There is still one question to be resolved about Jay’s life. Grandma Leila said that Jay worked for a relative she called H. D. Brown, who had something to do with owning or managing the Santa Anita racetrack. These are the memories of two kids around six to ten years old (Rosemary and myself):
A Wikipedia history of Sanita Anita did not mention H.D. Brown. My family tree contains several names that could be H.D. Brown born in the 1890s up to 1908, which could fit the criteria, but none in California. Perhaps a clue can yet be found, as Rosemary Reeves said her Aunt Mercy married a Weir “Blackie” Chadwick about the same time as Ida and Jay were married in the 1960s, and she thinks Jay and Blackie knew each other before their marriages while working on construction projects for the government in Nevada and California. She wrote that Blackie’s brother drove in the sulky races at Santa Anita and his sister was an exercise girl there. I also think when Jay lived at Vanport, that he went to dog races with my dad, so he probably gambled too. This might explain what happened to his first family living in poor conditions or why he didn’t go back for them.
I do not think all of these clues just came to me by coincidence, and I hope I can learn the rest of Jay’s story.
In 1974 I made a trip to Cardston and researched what I could glean on my relatives from the town library and looked at some old issues of the Alberta Star from the early 1900s. After I returned home I sent, through inter-library loan, for a role of microfilm from the paper. I came across a picture of an Indian couple and learned that mom’s Uncle Jay and the young woman had won prizes for having the best costumes at a costume party. That solved that mystery. He did not have an Indian wife.
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