When I was four years old, my brother Dallis came home from Utah State University during the Christmas Vacation. During this vacation a group of three couples traveled to a dance held in a little community twenty-five miles from our home in Vernal. During the drive home after the dance, they drove over an ice covered bridge. The car spun out of control and crashed into a large tree. Four of the young people, including my brother, were killed.
In the early hours of the morning we received a telephone call. I was partially awaken by the call but soon after I became fully awake from the sobbing of my mother.
My mother was unable to cope with Dallas' death. She told me later in life that she felt she was losing her mind. Finally she and my father decided that ti would be well for her to leave Vernal for a while and visit her sister who lived in San Francisco. I was to accompany her.
What great memories I still have of that trip. I remember the long boring bus ride to and from San Francisco. My aunt lived at the top of a San Francisco hill that provided a great view of the San Francisco Bay. I remember that we could watch the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge. I remember the "China Clipper" taking off from the bay on the beginning of its flight to the Orient. The "China Clipper" was a four engine passenger plane that landed on water.
I remember one Saturday visiting a large fish aquarium and being intrigued with the sea turtles. That Saturday visit to the aquarium was the beginning of an event I will never forget. After our visit to the aquarium, we walked back to the bus stop where we could catch the bus to my aunt's house. When the bus arrived and the door opened, I attempted to climb into the bus. My legs wouldn't work. I couldn't step up into the bus. I believe my mother became short tempered and grabbed me and lifted me into the bus. By the time we had reached our destination I couldn't move my legs or feel anything at all in my legs. My mother and aunt had to carry me up the long steep hill to her house. I think they both suspected that I was faking the whole thing because I was lazy.
The following Monday, my mother took me to a doctor. After his examination, the doctor said that I had contracted Polio and there was nothing he could do for me. His only suggestion was that I should spend a few minutes each day under a sun lamp. I was unaware at the time that very, very few people ever recovered from the effects of Polio. My mother was aware of this, of course, and made certain that I spent the recommended amount of time each day with the sun lamp. I doubt that the sun lamp did any good.
What did do some good was the many prayers my mother offered. Many times during the next six weeks, I saw here knelling in prayer. I could never hear her prayers, but latter in life I could imagine that she was
pleading with the Lord for my recovery. She felt that since she had already lost one son, her remaining son should not have to be an invalid. Thank goodness for a mother's fervent prayers.
After laying in bed for six weeks, I started to feel a tingling in my toes. A day or two later feeling started to returned to my legs. I could actually move them a little. Slowly over the next several weeks I regained more strength and began learning to walk again. One of my favorite prayers is found in James 5:16 - . . . . "pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.
A week later my mom and I were on a bus going home to Utah.
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