Neighboring ranch hands/cowboys soon began visiting the Parkin ranch and the three lovely “girls” that lived there. Jessie was the first to marry when she and Truman Porter exchanged vows in May of 1930. Blanche, with her two little girls in tow said “I Do” on September 3 1930, as she and Joe Ashton stood before the Justice of the Peace. Peggy, several years younger, married Wayne Dickson in 1938.
Good Morning, I've decided to pause Blanche's story, with the preceding paragraph and post some of Joe's story, as here is where they met and were soon to marry...You are going to hear about his childhood and growing up...It will be awhile before I get back to "Dumpster Diving Mama."
My father, Elmer Isaac Ashton was born in Woodruff, Utah on May 14,1907 to George and Idella (Eastman) Ashton. He was the fifth child in a family of seven, four girls and three boys. In his lifetime he was a sheepherder, cowboy, coal miner, farmer, and logger. More importantly, he was the man I called Daddy.
From the stories I’ve been told Daddy was a happy little boy and learned to whistle at a young age. His two uncles, Rawl and Marsh Eastman, nicknamed him “Whistlin’ Joe.” His name became Joe Ashton and he signed Elmer only on legal documents. Rawl and Marsh looked out for him and became his role models, as Daddy spent time with them, and away from his sometimes abusive father. Daddy spoke highly of his mother, a kind, caring person, and a positive influence in his life. Her death when he was a teenager devastated him. An accident while riding in a buggy caused injuries confining her to a wheelchair, in the last years of her life. Even when in the wheelchair, she continued her job clerking at a small grocery store. Daddy told the story, of her adding the bill in her head, faster than an adding machine, seldom making a mistake.
At the age of fourteen Daddy’s father sent him out to a sheep camp to herd sheep, while he attended to business matters. Daddy had no choice but to do as his father told him. He talked little about his childhood when I was growing up, but admitted to being afraid going to the camp alone. I can imagine that during the daylight hours he did quite well, keeping the herd together, and with the help of his dog, he brought them close to camp, where they bedded down for the night. As darkness fell, he would have felt brave, though surely on the inside he was as frightened as the lambs he had been sent to protect. Terrified at night with only a dog for company, he lay staring at the stars, listened to the howl of coyotes and prayed that all the sheep in his care, would still be alive come the next morning. To be continued...Hugs To All...OWAV:)
No comments:
Post a Comment