Sunday, November 17, 2013

My Gardens, by Nancy Peterson

MY GARDEN
1990

I love my garden!  This is such a wonderful place to be.  I love all the colors and forms and light patterns through the trees.  I love feeling the breeze and hearing the running water.  There are flower beds here, fruit trees and great open spaces.  What an abundance of beautiful handiwork! 

This garden is new to these little ones by me.  They are so delicate.  I hope they’ll find joy here.  Their senses are filled with new sights and sounds and feelings.  They trust me completely.  Their survival depends on me.  Sometimes this responsibility is weighty, but I find great joy in being close to their new life.  

I have a beloved coworker in my garden.  His love and companionship make me whole!  We cultivate this part of the garden together.  It was what we both wanted most in this life.  We knew we would find great joy here.  Of all the treasures in our abundant garden we love these little ones the most.  They make this season in our garden so magical.  

We love to watch these little ones.  We marvel at their tender shoots as they push forward.  We’re thrilled at their spontaneous budding.  The blossoms unfold in perfect form and we cradle the confidant pedals against the hidden frost.  We wipe away tears of discouragement as the petals wither and offer a vision of the forthcoming fruit.  We dig about the roots.  We fertilize.  We water.  Patience comes easily when we understand God’s gift of time. 

It’s not hard to understand the feelings these little ones are experiencing in this garden.  We’re growing here too.  We are still trying to discover our full potential and stretch ourselves upward.  We understand frustration and sorrow, as well as the joy of growth.

It’s not always sunny in my garden.  In fact, at times, strong winds rip through the growth pulling at our very roots.  But, if we are willing, nature’s pruning of the deadwood inspires new growth, and we enjoy new life that we hadn’t even anticipated.    

And there are weeds.  They usually pop us when the garden doesn’t demand constant care.  If they’re not pulled they grow quickly and begin to obscure our view of the important things in the garden. 

But we are not left alone to take care of ourselves here.  We have majestic shade trees.  These are gifts from past generations.  Not only do they break strong winds and offer merciful relief on hot days, but their very presence in every season reminds us of the principles by which they have grown so tall.  These must be preserved.   

I love the work in my garden.  These tender starts require a lot of care.  My most important work in this season is to ensure that they have the best possible environment in which to grow so they can achieve their full potential.  The law of the harvest renews my hope that our hard work here will bring us great joy for a long time to come. 

This garden is so beautiful!  I am so happy here.  Of course, we don’t take credit for all the beauty and joy in this garden.  For this we thank the gardener.  He gave us this garden and planted us in it. 

Life won’t always be the same for me here.  These little ones will soon be big enough to grow on their own.  And we too will have changed.  We will be taller.  My influence with these growing near to me will be less intimate but if I try I can grow as tall as some of the shade trees and spread my influence over a greater part of the garden.  And I will still be close to these that are growing up by my side.  I know I’ll find joy in being close to them and in watching them continue to grow. 

And my beloved coworker, he will always be my dearest friend.  The strength of our relationship comes from our growing together as we pass through all the seasons in this garden.  We share everything that is important to us.  We understand each other and have helped to prune each other along the way.  We don’t spend all of our time together here in the garden but at night we’re always reunited.  I climb into his branches and give my trust to him. 

This is our garden.  We knew we would be happy here.     


Seasons of Change
2010


I’m still here, in my garden.  It’s a very good place to be!  I would say, I am very happy here, 20 years down the road!!  There is a lot of activity in this garden, involving many good people.  Through it all there is a feeling of peace and of purpose.  The garden is bathed in light much of the day.  I love the light!  And we can still feel the love it brings radiating into the night, reminding us that the gardener is near.  Although there is always a lot of work to be done in this garden, my constant care is not required for cultivating every field.  Many of our trees have matured now, bearing rich fruits seemingly on their own – fruits of faith, fruits of friendship, fruits of eternal joy!  What wonderful gifts these are for me!  I am grateful for this garden and the many gifts it brings!!   


I still find great joy in attending to the work that is to be done here!  And there is nothing I love more than to help our children grow!  My main job in this garden is to introduce them to the gardener, who is the source of all that is good.  His love comes into focus for them as they learn to live by the law of the harvest.  There are so many good gifts he has given us here!  For me, my greatest gift is still this cherished association with them.  The brightness of their eternal spirits has not been dimmed by the darker things of this world.  I am so grateful!  With them, there is simple satisfaction in the daily routine.  I feel blessed every day.  They are the gardener’s children!  I feel his love.  This work enlarges my soul and defines who I am.  


In many ways, my garden has changed.  For one, it has grown!  Not only are the children older now, but there are many more of them!  My capacity has increased in many ways. My life feels rich and full!  This is the very life of life, everything I ever hoped for!!


I acknowledge that a few of the changes in my garden have been difficult for me.  The hardest of these changes are the ones that have actually required me to stand still, and watch as the master gardener invites those who have been near me the longest - who are so beautiful and strong, to leave my garden, one by one, for the purpose of cultivating fields of their own.  They live and work in places outside of my sphere.  They have no need for my garden here, yet here is where I must stay.  It is humbling to behold their capacity in carrying out their work with such surety and love! They know the gardener well!  My life’s greatest work in raising them up unto him has come to an end.  As their lives and their hearts move on, I feel a tender sadness.  Fortunately, I am learning not to fear the distance between us now.  I know the gardener!  His promises are sure.  He fills my void with his love.  A new and sweet understanding of the law of sacrifice is etched deeply into my soul.  This is a part of life I would not miss.  


Having said this, I must say that there is still great joy in my garden now, with greater peace and strength than I have known before.  This is because the gardener is near!  Throughout every season, my sights have been lifted steadily toward him.  He is the true source of my strength and my joy!  I sense who I must be in his sight.  How sweet are the gifts of love which he bestows on all who seek him here!  They give power and peace to our lives.  My heart is at home in my garden.  And happily, for yet a little season, I will still be allowed to tend these younger ones that I have near.  What a blessing that they grow so slowly!  They are his best gifts to me!  I feel his love.  


Now, I call this my garden because this is my story, and that’s how I feel in my labors here.  But this is a united garden, and my sweet co-worker still works diligently with me here.  This garden was given to us both by the one whose garden gives us life.  Together we cultivate its fruits, though from different sides of the field.  For some reason, it seems like we’re laboring from the outside in, with him on the far side and me over here.  I seldom see his efforts in the daily rhythm of life.  But from our separate fields, I can always feel his tender heart and righteous ways.  They bring me peace.  His sacrifices and faith breathe life into our little garden!  I love him for his love, and his many gifts to me!  The delicious fruits of our harvest we will always share.  And in the quiet nighttime hours we still come together and rest in the branches of our love.  We find strength and peace in the unity of our purpose.  


My co-worker and I have developed many skills over the years, yet there are so many things left to learn!  We live out our lives by faith as we each try to follow the gardener’s plan for us.  He knows best how to help us grow!  I find peace in knowing that I am not responsible for the growth of my partner.  Our parallel lives of service will continue to pull our hearts ever closer until we become fully united as one.  We love the gardener!  We trust his ways. We will wait patiently for the day when we can be sent out to cultivate his fields of love together.  


In this current season, we have a tender new seedling growing in our garden.  She is a rare and precious transplant from a far off field.  She is one of striking beauty and startling resilience.  Her place near the gardener’s heart is apparent.  She has been brought here to be loved and to be healed by him.  We are grateful for his trust. She has endured dangerous storms already in her short life.  And there are still times when her young heart aches afresh from promises not fulfilled.  It is our true desire that she receive here all that the gardener would have her receive.  She will be responsible for the bearing of much fruit for him in the generations to come!     


With my constant attention no longer required for the growing children who remain, I am often invited to work in other people’s fields.  This too brings satisfaction to my soul!  With each new opportunity comes increased light and an awareness of greater things.  I've noticed that through my service, the younger ones in my garden develop skills as well.  It certainly hasn’t hurt them any to learned to stretch and grow with me! Not only are we allowed to feel the gardener’s love for his other children, but the eternal principles of the garden are impressed deeply into our souls.  Through these experiences, we are permitted to share in the master’s joy and the harvest of his love! What mercy is to be found in the gardens of life!!!


My work clothes are....getting a little worn out.  Too bad that we only get one pair!  They’re showing unmistakable signs of the passing seasons of my life.  I remember the time when they always seemed fresh and new!  I understand that they will fall completely apart by the time my work is finished here.  My only hope is that I can first accomplish all that I need to do!  I don’t know how I feel about being numbered among the experienced!  My seasons here I now wear on my face, like the rings of a tree.  There is, however, something very satisfying in giving one’s whole self to this important work.  We only have one chance to try!  Fortunately, despite this deciduous decline, our eternal spirits continue to shine bright.  Perhaps my real inner self will become more visible through this fading fabric I’m in.  


As the seasons of our lives roll along in our garden I see many new opportunities for growth.  Things are looking good for the harvest ahead!  I sense that our boarders will continue to be broken down - boarders between our garden and the other gardens of the field.  Distances between me and my precious loved ones will decrease.  Soon, the boundaries between us and our posterity yet unborn will be removed, and the lives and worlds of loved ones passed on will come more clearly into view.  There are coming to us even now, delightful, prepared children, raised up with care in other workers’ fields.  These are gifts of the Master to help our children grow, and cultivate the fields they will share.  I love these dear friends, gifts of mercy and love!  They bring power for the sweet harvest yet to come.  We rejoice in our posterity, who learn of his ways, and honor us with their lives and their love!  


For myself, as I look ahead, I see the truths of eternity continuing to distill upon my soul.  What joys I find in coming to know the gardener, and all his holy ways!  It is my hope in this lifetime to see our gardens come full circle with a coming home of the generations that surround us.   My inner desire is for a binding of the hearts with each of these loved ones - extensions of myself.  I rejoice in the promise of eternity with all of the precious people my heart has been given to love!    





A Mother's Thoughts On Mother's Day Morning, by Beatrice Cannon Evans

What I Believe, by Wayne Cannon Evans, 1975

Rescue of the Lost Lamb, story of personal "rescue", by Vella Evans

Personal Life Sketch by Robert Lee Peterson

I Can Know For Myself, a Primary Song by Pat Thomas

It's Just The Way You Take It, by Lark Galli

Memories of Rachel Vella Fowler, by husband Jim Neil and siblings Joe, Lois, Norma Rose and Wendell

MEMORIES OF RACHEL VELLA FOWLER

Informant Code:       Jm = Jim Neil, husband
                                    Jo = brother Joe 2 ½  years younger
                                    L  = sister Lois 1 ½ years older
                                    N =  sister Norma Rose, 9 years younger
W = brother Wendell, five years her junior


Appearance: W Tall and stately, a little taller than most girls.
L Blond as a child, dark brown hair as an adult. Known for her “violet eyes.”
            L  Fell a long way down in Waterfall Canyon resulting in a scar across her eyebrow. She was self-conscious about it the rest of her life.
            L: Mother didn’t use makeup and we girls didn’t use much – maybe a little powder. When I got married and started using makeup, mother was appalled.
             Jo  Didn’t fuss with appearance, made no effort to enhance it, had no interest in fashion.
            NR Never fussed about looks but always looked very nice. Shoulder-length very dark hair usually wore long except pulled it into a bun after marriage.
            Jo A beauty queen – remember her riding on a float around the track for a football game.

Courtship: W (uneasy with this question) Because Jim Neil was not active in the church and because he drank and smoked, Rose and Ben were not happy with Vella’s choice to date him exclusively. Why would she do that when she had so many other beaus who all wanted to date or marry her – good, handsome, popular young men? But the family didn’t make it an issue for comment, just a word dropped here and there – it was explored mostly by the parents in private. And the church wasn’t as strict about such things then.  
            L One of her rejected beaus pleaded to have her sealed to him after her death.

Domestic: W Mother Rose was so efficient and good around the kitchen and house that she didn’t ask her older daughters for help with cooking, dishes, or cleaning during the week – only a little on weekends. She wanted them to have time to become what they should become.
            L The Crowthers were very pious and had long and frequent family prayers that Rose wanted to continue but Ben did not. So Rose never went against him. Ben also had a real temper, especially when arriving home from work, and would sometimes shout around the house. Rose was very loving --  liked physical closeness, liked to kiss and hug the children and their friends. Always sweet in temperament and touching people. Ben said too much love made children weak. Vella rebelled against Ben’s rules to some degree but was never disrespectful towards him.

                        (Meals W dinner about 6:30 in the dining room, “father Ben” at the head of the table, boys on one side, girls on other, “mother Rose” at the foot. Fowlers were always noted for eating everything. Rose had a salad and cooked vegetable every night. Ben brought home a steak every second or third night that weighed less than a pound and was divided among the members.

                        Jo When he thinks of Vella he thinks of her eating peanut butter and jam spread on bread. Dinner was to be at 6:30 sharp and anyone late caught “verbal hell.” There was always a lengthy evening prayer at the table and the rest of the meal was pretty structured with discussions about family matters, school, or any problem that needed to be addressed.


Intelligence: W an outstanding, brilliant girl, quite a student.

            NR and L Spoke beautiful French – majored in it in college and spoke it socially with others who also spoke French. English minor. Graduated with a perfect GPA but was not valedictorian because the faculty chose a man with a comparable GPA but who majored in engineering to take that honor.

Interests and Talents: W  Tennis, doubles champion in Ogden City with best friend Carmen Garner
            L Vella and I did a lot of singing at different churches when we were about 9 and 10 – were invited by different organizations, I (Lois) sang soprano and Vella alto. Also did some dancing – Lois ballet, Vella tap --in public as children. Vella did recitations. [The wards used to have this kind of talent at evening meetings. What a gentle world without television and the Internet.]
           
            NR She was seldom home; but when she was there, she was always reading.  She was wonderful at tennis – played to the #2 position in Weber County, losing only to her friend and doubles partner Carmen Garner.

            L and NR  Went to  church as long as she was living at home and taught Sunday School. After she moved in with the Neil family’s dormitory in Salt Lake, the Fowlers didn’t call on her even though the building was only a half mile from the Fowler home – said they didn’t feel comfortable with the obvious differences in point of view over religion and religious practices.

           
Outings: W Every summer the family took a car trip to Malad Idaho to visit with Rose’s relatives, the Crowthers. The drive was always a lot of fun with conversation, jokes, and plenty of singing.

Personality: W Vella was always very congenial, pleasant, helpful. Strong willed at times but not seriously. Very popular at school. Boyfriends coming over to the house almost every night. Vice President of school senior year, elected final prom queen – a big deal, selected as a “sponsor” for the ROTC band (ROTC was also a big deal at the time.) complete with uniform and “presence” at band appearances.

            L She had tall friends. Some seemed ugly or unconventional in dress or behavior but she chose them for her own reasons – liked everybody. Ben very disturbed by her choice of friends. She was a tom-boy, usually played outside at whatever the boys were playing rather than playing with dolls or crayons like her sisters. Liked to ride her bike. Later as a young woman she had a very romantic outlook on life – longed for true love, being swept off her feet by a handsome man and living happily ever after. [I think this was a “Fowler women’s” dream, but less of my mother than the others.]

            L Vella was always light-hearted, optimistic, and upbeat, giving people the benefit of the doubt. Inquisitive, brave, went off on her own exploring as a child. Generous. A religious rebel. (Apparently Vella had told Lois that Lois was “too stiff.”)

            L As a child Vella took a double dose of Epson salts (one belonging to Lois) because Lois put up such a fuss with lots of crying. The double dose made Vella very sick, but she didn’t complain about it – “She was like that” – a dare devil, willing to try anything. When Norma Rose was whining about having to do dishes, Vella locked her out of the kitchen and did the dishes for her. Told NR to ignore her brothers’ teasing and they would soon stop it. This worked. (Joe had said that it was fun to tease both Lois and Vella because they were so trusting and gullible).

NR AND L Vella was idolized by all who knew her and with no resentment because people thought she deserved it.

            NR If Vella had a fault it was being stubborn. She preferred odd balls for friends.

            Jo  He and Vella argued. She would work with a problem; he was more headstrong. She was well-organized; knew what she was doing. Good outlook on life. Not distracted by other people’s opinion.

            The following is all Jim and not really categorical:

They lived in the same LD.S. Ward in Ogden and performed on the same evening programs – Jim doing recitations and poetry readings. She was two years younger, a grade behind in school, and he sat behind her in a speech class and never spoke to her once. Her junior year she was in the “queen’s court” and the following year elected Queen of the Classicalia with Karl Hopkins’ son working “fervently” to elect her even though her father was superintendent of the Weber Schools and Hopkins superintendent of the Ogden schools. Vella won by the largest margin of any girl in the history of the school.  After she started college, Mrs. Eccles (which one) asked Jim to escort Vella to one of her parties, and Jim never took out another girls after that although Vella continued to date other men.

“Vella was not differential like Lois and her mother. Instead she was very vivacious. Lois would sit quietly at a table at the party and observe the action while Vella got right in the middle of it. At the same time she was totally gracious. All of the Fowler girls were very idealistic, expecting a rosy future. She was very strong. She was a great athlete. We would play tennis and I got beat pretty often. Or she and another partner would play me  and my male partner and we got beaten regularly, also. She had a strong serve and a great net game that she wasn’t afraid to play to the fullest. She wore a white blouse or sweater to play tennis, a colored skirt, white tennis sox over her nylon hose and white canvas shoes – Keds or Converse. No woman wore pants or shorts at the time – an outrage.”

One of her former friends went to Hollywood where he worked for a movie company; and when he showed Vella’s photo to a director, he was told ‘If you can get her here, we can cast her,’” At 5’7” she weighed about 125 pounds. School (college) clothes were skirts with a blouse or sweater, or a print dress and hose with soft suede shoes that we called “mocs” but were not really Indian moccasins. She had beautiful party dresses (Rose’s work) and a little high-quality jewelry that looked very good on her as she had a long neck and pretty shoulders and neckline. She wore a fragrance called Coty’s ‘Chic.’
Jim thought she got the scar through her eyebrow in a motorcycle accident. He remembers her hair as long, “very long to the middle of her back. She wore it braided in two long braids that she wrapped around on the top of her head like a Jewish skull cap. Or she coiled them on either side of her head in a style called ‘shells.’ Or she let them hang down her back and tied them together at the end. Or she wore  a single long braid that hung down her back. She wore a bun for special occasions.

They had regular Sunday afternoon dates when they went to one of two homes in Ogden of wealthy and prominent families where the young people gathered to visit and play cards and eat.  Once they went to a large dance at the Alhambra Dance Hall in Ogden with Jim her date. He therefore had her dance card and so was theoretically in charge of her dances. He took dances four, eight, and twelve for himself, waltzes, because he didn’t want anyone else to get that close to her. And he always had to fill his choices in immediately because it otherwise filled up the first minute. But just after dance four, two guy appeared who had come down from southern Idaho and were related to her family “and she asked me to find them a place. And I said ‘your card is full,’ and she asked me if I couldn’t just fix it somehow so they could have dances after coming such a long way. So I gave up my last two dances, went to the coat room, checked out my coat, and was going to go back in and give one of them her claim check and ask them to take her home. But I watched her out there on the floor – so lovely -- and I just couldn’t walk away from that. So I returned my coat and waited. But I did want to say, ‘Lady, I just can’t compete with all this traffic.’”

Vella had to drop out of college to work for a dentist named Foutz where she functioned as a receptionist and dental assistant. And when she had saved enough, she transferred to the University of Utah. Jim had not focused on his studies at Weber (had been working a lot to help support the Neil family) so when she arrived, they were both at the same class level. She always did her homework immediately – totally focused.  Jim was then living at the Highland Dorm, run by his mother and aunt; and Vella got a private room on the second floor with board; and to pay for this she set and served tables, made some dishes like salads, and did dishes after meals. By this time her family had also moved to Salt Lake City.

After they were engaged (no ring, no announcement)  they were sitting on one of the dorm balconies and Jim had loosened her braids and was running his fingers through her hair to loosen it. One of her many suitors passed by and saw Jim’s action. Vella began to cry. She knew that the other man would realize she was promised to someone else and that would wound him. And his wound caused Vella to cry for him. She was very tender hearted, kind and compassionate. She could also find something good to say about anything, even the squalid apartment they had after they were married – she liked it because Jim was there. Jim’s father used to brag that his son was going to marry a woman who was much too good for him. But he’d add – ‘She’s too good for anybody.’

They were married the afternoon they graduated by Apostle Richard R. Lyman in the Church Office Bldg. They didn’t go to church; they “prized their weekends together” as she had been either studying or in class or working at the dorm and he did the same plus working at Utah Power and Light on North Temple where he arrived by street car after school and caught the last car home at night arriving by 1 a.m. Weekends were the time they had together “We never said much about church, didn’t discuss religion at all. Her faith must have been there because her family were very devout, and you can’t live with religion without it rubbing off a little on you. But she dated Mormons and non-Mormons equally and married a Jack-Mormon. After the wedding the family fathered for a lunch that Ben Fowler sponsored.”

Jim and Vella spent their honeymoon summer working at Ideal Beach with the housekeeping crew, just a they had done the summer before. Jim helped her wash her long hair every Wednesday and Saturday – they had only standpipes out of doors by some of the cabins. They used cocoa butter to help them get dark tans. And they loved to swim and dance. Once, sitting on a blanket watching the waves come in, Vella noticed that her wedding ring (a small, inconsequential thing as plain as a ring can get except it had five tiny diamonds set deeply in it) had come off. They worked frantically until dark combing every inch of sand – but nothing. Then the following morning as they approached the water, something glinted in the slanted sunrise and it was the ring.

When school started they moved into a one-room basement apartment on the corner of Jefferson and 25th Street, directly across from what was then Ogden High School (now an elementary school).  It had only a pull-down bed and a table that folded against the wall. Vella once left a pewter dish on the stove and it melted through – causing her pain because it had been a gift. She sang popular music and hymns around the house but once said the apartment would be more cheerful if there were a little music. So, without consulting her taste, Jim took his paycheck (he made $83 a month and sold shoes in a department store  after he finished at school) and bought a very little radio (it was a very little apartment). Her favorite piece was “Meditation” from Thais.  

Their entertainment was walking even in the cold of winter. Unfortunately, Jim and his best friend spent almost every evening in the little apartment with the only window closed against the cold. Both were chain smokers, and Vella got an unhealthy dose of second-hand smoke for several  months before her baby was born. It didn’t affect her appetite, however. “Her favorite meals were breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She had no food dislikes and was a good cook. She was the only person I’ve ever known who would throw out dishwater when it got dirty and finish the rest with fresh water. She was also meticulously clean about her self, bathing, showering, and washing her hair often. She would rub cold cream on her face every night before bed, thick enough to be white before she rubbed it in. She also took her hair out and let it fall freely during the evening before going to bed.”

“She got only one new item to wear after their marriage. Lois and Harry took her to Ogden and opened Harry’s mother’s store and helped her choose a maternity dress. We should have had twins because I wanted a girl to name Vella (she said not Rachel Vella) and she wanted a boy to name James Sidney Neil. That’s why my daughter’s middle name is Sidney.” After Christmas Jim moved Vella to Salt Lake to stay with his mother in the boarding house that would be more healthful for her and nearer her doctor and hospital. He got a room in Ogden, and they saw each other only on weekends.

One story has Vella walking the three blocks from the Highland Dorm to the Holy Cross Hospital to deliver. Her obituary lists St. Mark’s hospital – then across town by the Hot Springs – an unlikely choice. In any case, her doctor was impatient that the placenta did not deliver quickly and gave her an extra heavy dose of pitossin which brought the placenta in a hurry but also apparently caused the uterus to turn completely inside out. No one checked on this, as would be standard now. Instead she was taken to a private room where her mother, Rose, sat by her bedside, naive, not daring to pry into such indelicate business, until Vella turned deadly white and Rose asked a nurse if something was wrong. Apparently the bed was bathed in blood. Her blood had not been typed, those willing to donate had not been typed, and all efforts were too little and too late. She was twenty-two. After her daughter’s death, Rose lobbied strongly to take the baby. Since she had been he person who had produced the superior original, shouldn’t she be the grandmother to reproduce it in the granddaughter? But Jim argued that the child shouldn’t have to lose both mother and father as his job was in Ogden. His own mother left the Highland Dorm and took a house in Ogden whereshe could care for the baby and keep house for Jim. And so it turned out that Vella’s daughter was raised by her father’s mother – a woman who loved her as her own. They moved from Ogden when Vella was 2 to Idaho Falls – Jim following – and back to Ogden when Vella was 11. The Fowler grandparents, Lois, Wendell and Joe lived in Salt Lake. Norma Rose and her growing family lived in Kanab and then California. And so it was that young Vella saw very little of her Fowler relatives until she was 19 and lived with Ben and Rose for three years while attending the University. There she worked after school until five o’clock each afternoon and during her senior year – Saturday morning, as well. She saw cousins only on Thanksgiving and briefly on Christmas. Little wonder they did not grow up close. Perhaps something of that can yet be achieved.

           




Vella Sidney’s Observations:

With the exception of her high school English teacher – who was also my high school English teacher – Vella was constantly described as the smartest, most beautiful, kind, and universally loved of anyone that speaker knew. (My English teacher said Lois was prettier.) Even the art teacher LeConte Stewart said she was beautiful. Many women said she was “dainty” – but no man ever did. Her French teacher (later my French teacher) said she spoke French like a native and thought fluently in French.

More than one person said that Vella was not her father’s favorite child. That honor would go to Wendell (over the long haul) although the focus was early on Joe. Ben even concocted the name Benson to identify his paternity, as it otherwise has no relevance in the family.  

Over the course of the years, I have come across this additional; information: I have two photos of her on horseback -- she was apparently an all-round athlete, a member of a social club in high school “Carpe diem” and belonged to the modern languages club in college. She was also the society editor for the Acorn, the college yearbook. At that time, Weber College was actually a church school – the L.D.S. Academy in Ogden, with daily devotionals just like BYU. She included everything in her annual report, from the devotionals to the debate team’s honors, to the team sports, the plays, and finally the school dances of which she was particularly fond. The literary editor of the Acorn chose two poems and one short story to include in the yearbook, and it was Vella’s story -- suggesting additional  talent with language and narration.

Here are the things that struck me in reading her yearbook singings: Class leaders, reputed athletes, other beauty queens, and “ordinaries” all wrote in her book. Several teachers wrote saying they had enjoyed her in their classes. A couple of the men said they loved her. Many wrote that she had helped them enjoy the school year. Many of the high school girls and college women told her that they loved her. I find this amazing, as a girl who is beautiful, smart, prominent, talented, and a “queen” is sometimes resented by other girls. Apparently Vella didn’t wear her “superiority” out in front and people related to her on a genuinely human level. One of the college men told her that she had the rare quality of being herself.

Rachel Vella Fowler Neil is buried in the Neil Family plot in the Ogden City Cemetery along side her mother- and father-in-law. Her husband Jim is buried in a cemetery in Sacramento, California, beside his son and a daughter who preceded him in death. Vella’s daughter Vella will be buried in the Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Salt Lake City next to her husband Wayne Cannon Evans