Odessa’s Remembrances of Dad’s Life
I would like to record some of my remembrances and impressions of my father, Judson Adonirum Tolman, Jr.
He came through choice parents. His father, Judson Adonirum Tolman, Sr. was Bishop in Preston, Idaho and his mother, Mary Ann Howard Tolman was the midwife who delivered me when I was born. She and her family came across the plains on foot. Her mother died, also, two sisters while crossing the plains.
Grandmother had six lovely daughters and was greatly desirous to have a son. She knelt in prayer and pled earnestly that our Father would send her a son. Her next child was my father.
I remember hearing my father tell how sad he was when a special friend of his died. That night as he lay in his upstairs bedroom, his friend stood at the foot of his bed. Father was frightened and covered his head. When he looked up again, his friend was still there. He hid his face again. When he looked up and saw his friend still there, he called for his father. Before his father arrived his friend left. (This is as I remember the story.)
My mother and father were married in the Logan Temple. After their first child, Minnie, was born father was called on a mission to Scotland and England. He served as a counselor in the Bishopric in Chesterfield, Idaho. I don’t know whether it was before or after going on his mission. My earliest memories of father was when he was building our home in Preston. (Grandfather Tolman had given or sold , I don’t know which, five acres of land to father.) The next I remember was living in the upstairs of the Meeks home in Riverdale while father worked on their dry farm. Mother became ill and died while we were there. Then I remember father standing by her casket in our front room in Preston with tears falling down his cheeks as friends and family came for a last viewing of mother. (I was four years old.)
After mother died we girls were “farmed out” to different members of the family. Minnie, the oldest, and I the youngest, were together. Genevieve and Drucilla were together. One night when we were at Aunt Dora’s, father came home after we were in bed. He came in to say “hello” and “goodnight” to us. Before leaving, he took some licorice from his pocket and gave to us.
When I was around five, father married Cecelia Arthema Durfee, a friend of one of older cousins…(May Bergesen). (February 14, 1917) I vaguely remember helping father plant corn, onions and etc.
Sabina Hart’s mother, Evadna, became quite ill. (Sabina was the only girl my age that I remember. Most of my playmates were boy cousins.) She was possessed by evil spirits. I remember hearing my father tell how when he administered to her he could hear the evil spirits leave. As long as father was there, they would stay away. When he left, they returned. Because of this, he spent much time with her. Finally they put her in a rest home for about a year.
When I was eight years old, I had to wait until about ten o’clock at night to be baptized. I wanted to be baptized on my birthday, and father had to come home on horseback after the days work at Meek’s ranch. Being the 26th of March, there was still snow on the ground. The moon was full and bright. He took me out into Grandfather Tolman’s pond and baptized me. Then we walked home which was almost a city block. I remember standing by the pot-bellied stove changing my wet clothes. This was a very special occasion. I had looked forward to it with great anticipation.
Not too long after this, my father got a job in Salt Lake with the Utah Power and Light Company as a stationary engineer in their power plant on South Temple. (As I remember) We lived for about six months at 174 L Street. While we were here, my father taught me a good lesson in honesty.
We lived close to a small grocery store. They had penny candy and gum. One day while I was swinging Jennie in our back yard I got the idea to wrap a penny I had in aluminum foil and use it as a dime to get us some candy and gum; which I did. The man at the store, told father what I had done. Father took me aside and quietly and lovingly talked with me. Then he instructed me that every time I earned a penny I was to take it to the store until I had paid back the nine cents I owed the man. This I did and have never done anything like that again. It took a lot of courage to go to the man and acknowledge what I had done and ask his forgiveness. I had to make several trips before it was all paid. Each time I was filled with shame and remorse. He was very kind and when it was paid, he thanked me.
We bought a home at 2503 Dearborn Street in Highland Park. Father taught me another good lesson while we lived there. Mama was pregnant and not feeling very well. Genevieve and I were supposed to do the dishes. Neither of us wanted to wash so we were arguing who would wash and who would dry. Father walked in from the bedroom. He reached me first and booted me lightly with his knee saying quietly but firmly, “Get into that dishpan.” I did but I could scarcely see the dishes for the tears. It broke my heart to think my father would have to do that to me. I vowed to myself that it would never happen again. As a result, I washed every batch of dishes for some time. Finally I asked mama if Genevieve could wash a batch of dishes. She said, “yes” but I reaped a harvest, a great blessing. From that day until this, I have never worried about washing dishes.
When my only brother, Judson Adonirum was a tiny baby, he caught pneumonia. The doctor didn’t expect him to live but father administered to him and he lived. My father was a very loving, spiritual person. His whole desire was to do what our Father in Heaven would have him do. Sometimes because of work shift (He worked two weeks days, then afternoon, and then night) he was unable to attend church. Whenever he wasn’t working, he attended church and at least one day a week in the Temple (as I remember.) At Conference time, our home was always filled with visitors. I slept on the front room floor. It seemed like father was always doing something for someone in need. People knew they could call on him anytime.
When I was in Junior High School, I had scarlet fever. He gave me a blessing which helped tremendously. I remember father with a book of instructions in his hand overhauling our Ford so we could go on vacation. He always planned minutely and carefully everything he did. He would write and tell people that he would be there at such and such a time, and he was there right on the dot.
He was the only one in our family who could drive on these vacations. He put in many long hours of driving. I remember one vacation we were on our way home and traveling on a narrow road. I saw a car coming toward us. Father didn’t move over. This was unusual. I looked at him and his eyes were on the road ahead. The car was getting closer and still father didn’t move. Finally I could stand it no longer. I called “Father”. Almost instantly he moved to the side and the car passed us.
One other vacation we were going to Tucson, Arizona. They had just finished the bridge down near Lee’s Ferry. It was night and the dirt road was winding, rough, and steep in places. We didn’t know what was ahead so father was driving very slowly, but as we traveled we sang. This was one thing I loved about our traveling. Father loved to sing so we were singing most of the time.
After father married mama, we had someone living with us most of the time. When one person left someone else would come. Mama and papa were always helping someone. We four girls were very strong willed and so was mama. She had a quick temper and as a result real problems could arise quickly. It was our love for father, and his kind wise way of handling situations that kept our family going. I enjoyed our regular family home evenings and evening and morning prayer.
When I was dating Leslie, I came home one night about 12:30 a.m.. Father was awake waiting for me. He asked where I had been. I told him and then he gave me some good fatherly advice. He told me that when the show or dance was over, I was to come directly home and not go for a ride. I was never to be out after midnight. He explained that it was in going somewhere late at night that was usually the time girls got into trouble. Another time I was talking with him and told him I had heard that some of the Apostle’s wives weren’t wearing their garments properly. Here again he gave me some good advice. “Daughter” he said, “Satan will work overtime on a leader. If he can get one leader to go astray he will take a lot of followers along with him. The important thing is for you to study and learn the right way to live and not worry about what others do. Your job is to see that you do what’s right.”
When Judson, my only brother, was sick, the doctor wanted to perform a heart operation. Father said, “Can you help him?” The doctor said he didn’t think so. Father said, “All right let’s just leave him alone then.” Judson lived several months longer than the doctor had ever known anyone in his condition to live. When he died, Minnie and I started to get him ready to go. Mama came in crying hysterically. We noticed a slight movement under his ribs like his heart was starting to beat again. Father said, “No, we’re not bringing him back now.” He took mama clear outside so Judson could go and be relieved of his suffering. (He had been kept in semi-sitting position for months. For sometime he had been unable to eat or drink anything because his heart had adhesions to his stomach. The only thing he could do was put a small piece of ice in his mouth and swallow as it melted.)
When Erminie was a baby about six months or so, papa and mama came to visit. As he was leaving, papa told me, “You have a hard disposition to handle here, daughter, don’t cross her unless you have to, but when you do, be sure you come out the winner.” I found this to be good advice with all my children.
As well as loving to sing, father loved to dance. The last few years he and mama used to go with a group of friends to Jackson’s Dance Hall quite frequently.
When father was about 56 (I’m not sure of his exact age, and being in New Zealand I can’t check it out) he took sick with phlebitis. He was administered to and the pain left, but not the disease. For the next five or six months he lay in bed and studied the scriptures. Father had a great gift of using his priesthood and healing the sick. He made the comment while he was sick that it was as though a veil had been drawn and he was unable to exercise his priesthood and heal himself.
My sister Leora went to the Manti Temple to be married. When she and Lavar came home they talked with father for awhile. Shortly after this he died. Father had lived long enough to see all six of his daughters married in the Temple.
Orin and I were living in Linda Vista at this time. I remember a knock coming at our door in the middle of the night and being told by a taxi driver to call home in Salt Lake. I went to a pay phone nearby and called. As I remember, I took Dennis and Klar, my two youngest children, with me to Salt Lake.
As I stood in front of the casket looking at father. I kept thinking how much he looked like his missionary picture. Aunt Myrtle, father’s youngest sister, came in the room. She looked at him and said, “He looks just like a missionary.” I have always felt father was called on a special mission to the spirits on the other side. He was permitted to remain here just long enough to see all of his daughters happily married to good men in the Temple. He was also able to re-read all the scriptures and prepare himself properly for his new calling.
I pray that I may prove myself worthy to go back to my Father-in-Heaven and be with my wonderful father, mother, mama, grandparents, brother and sisters along with my fine husband and children.
Wonderful tributes were paid father at his funeral. Then the family traveled to Preston, Idaho. Father was buried beside mother and Juanite, my younger sister (she only lived three weeks.)
Orin and I are to be buried in the plot next to father and mother. We have a plot next to theirs.
(Quotes from a letter written to Odessa by Jennie:)
One of the things I remember about dad was his excellent way for disciplining. He always made me want to do things that would please him and never do anything that he wouldn’t be happy with, even though I never remember any heavy punishment . That was a talent he had that I always longed to have. (This is an insert by his daughter Leora. I remember a lot about disciplining. When I was about six months old I didn’t get fed when I wanted it and I threw a tantrum. I was sitting on the bed in the bedroom and Dad was in the bathroom nearby shaving. In exasperation Mom started to spank me and during the spanking I crawled around the bed crying at the top of my lungs. Since it didn’t look like I was going to give up Mother decided to. It was then Dad said….Stick with it mother….and the spankings began anew until I sat back and stopped my tantrum.
As young children we only had one pair of roller skates. This particular day I was told I could use them for a certain period of time then I was to give them to Jennie. When the time was up I went on using the skates. Jennie was a tattle-tale. She told Dad and he came to the door and announced that my time was up. I was to give the skates to Jennie. I did. I took them off and threw them at her then I stomped through the front door, through the house to the back porch and climbed under the bed. Dad followed me and sat down on the bed with a razor strap in his hands. I paid the price for my disobedience when I came out (and I don’t know how long I dared stay under the bed.).
As a teenager one night my girlfriend and I came home with two young men who were going up to Little America in Wyoming to do some work. They wanted we girls to go with them. Lucille and I went in the house where Dad was shaving. I was glad Mom wasn’t there because I knew she wouldn’t give her permission, but I felt Dad would be a push over. I presented my request the best I knew how. Dad listened to my whole story then said, “I’d rather you didn’t daughter.” So I started all over again. Maybe I didn’t explain what we wanted to do the right way, so I told him again (in a better way) what we wanted to do. Again, he listened carefully then replied, “I’d rather you didn’t daughter.” I tried it again with the same results. When Lucille and I went out to the car and I told them that I couldn’t go, Lucille had insisted that my father had not said “No” so why couldn’t I go. The boys backed her and encouraged me to go anyway. I shook my head and told them that even though my father had not said “No” he had let me know he disapproved and that meant NO!
(Back to Jennie’s comments.) Dad’s love for dancing and the way he would perspire so freely. (I remember that) He always had to have a pocket full of handkerchiefs. One time when I was playing at a ward dance, I was tapping my feet to the rhythm and as he danced by he said, “Not so heavy on the drums, daughter.” I loved to be his dancing partner.
He made such loyal friends of the animals he had, the chickens and especially the cow. One we had there in Holladay would not give any milk to anyone else who tried, including Gene (Jennie’s boyfriend and eventually her husband.) The cow would also bellow each time Dad drove in the yard. Even though he was coming home from one of his late shifts, he would have to go and pet her before he could sleep.
Another big thing in my life and in my remembrance of father are the trips he took us on each summer. He always made us feel close as a family. Whenever we met anyone who knew father we were made to feel special because we belonged to him and I always felt that way. (Me too!)
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The poem Brother James E. Moss gave at Dad’s funeral. Brother Moss said that he knew of only two men that this poem fit so well. Dad was one of them. (This poem really does describe our father beautifully.)
MEN ARE OF TWO KINDS
Men are of two kinds; and he was of the kind I’d like to be. Some preach their virtues, and a few express their lives by what they do – that sort was he.
No flowery phrase, or glibly spoken words or praise won friends for him,
He wasn’t cheap or shallow, but his life ran deep; and it was pure. You know the kind; not many in a life you’ll find – Whose deeds outrun their works so far – that more than what they seem – they are.
There are two kinds of lives as well; the kind you live and the kind you tell.
Back through the years from age to youth, he never acted an untruth. Out in the open light he fought, and didn’t care what others thought – Or what they said about his fight, if he believed that he was right.
The only deeds he ever hid, were acts of kindness that he did. What speech he had was plain and blunt; his was an unembellished front. Yet children loved him, babe and boy played with the strength he could employ without one fear – and they are quick to sense injustice and deceit.
No back door gossip linked his name with any shady tale of shame. He did not have to compromise with evil doers shrewd and wise and let them ply their vicious trade because of some past escapade.
Men are of two kinds; and he was of the kind I’d like to be. No door at which he ever knocked against his manly form was locked. No broken pledge, lost him respect; he met all men with head erect. And when he passed, I think there went to yonder firmament, a soul so white, so pure, so fine, it came complete to God’s design.
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(Part of the Bishop’s remarks at the close of the funeral.) It has just been said that Brother Tolman was honest. I happen to have had the opportunity of holding the hearing when he had his automobile accident. He came into court with a traffic ticket. I looked it over. I usually don’t go so much for this brotherly thing in the court, for I find so many people take advantage of it, but I asked Brother Tolman to tell me his story as it really happened. He told me exactly what happened. Consequently, I dismissed the case against him. I knew before he came into court that he was an honest man, that when he told me I could know he was telling the truth.
About eighteen months ago, when I was made Bishop of the Ward one of the first who came to me was Judson Tolman. He didn’t come to congratulate me. He said, “I am head of the Genealogical Society, but I want to work for you. Anything that I can do that I am qualified to do, I am ready to do it.” Naturally we appreciate the brethren and sisters that offer that kind of service. Brother Tolman was one of these brethren. I got quite well acquainted with him – more so in our welfare setup. Every time a work day was called Brother Tolman was present.
Brother Tolman had more of the spirit of Elijah than any man I have known for sometime. Temple work was especially close to his heart. I couldn’t help but notice his humility and reverence in the temple of the Lord. He was liberal, too, in giving transportation to those who wanted to go to the temple. Brother Tolman once said, “It is hard to get Temple work done; so I will take a load on my way to work and bring them back on my way home.”
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