Paul W. Jespersen's Wedding Trip Diary

Transcribed by Laura Fontaine

Introduction by Mark O. Jespersen

During the Great Depressions, my father, Paul W. Jespersen, put his life on hold as a young and promising industrial engineer. He had decided to volunteer for 2 ½ years at his own expense to be a missionary in Denmark for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. While there he met a young woman named Lilly Matthiessen.

Lilly at far right with dad in Copenhagen.

Lilly was attending services but was not all that interested in converting to the “Mormon” church. But dad persisted and, just as he was about to return home, finally convinced her to become a member. Back in the States, dad thought a great deal about Lilly as he struggled to get back into the swing of life with his old friends. And then, in a dream one night, he had an epiphany about his future. He would write to Lilly and propose marriage and a new life together in the United States. Considering they hardly knew each other, except through their brief time together at church in Copenhagen, this was a risky proposal.

But dad was a serious guy with strong convictions. And, like many engineers, he could over-think equally small and large events in life. Lilly was also strong-willed, though not as dramatic about decisions in general. Once she made up her mind to do something – that was that. No big deal. Move on.

Dad proposed in a 16-page letter that carefully explained all his reasons for why this was a good thing—even though they hardly knew each other. He told Lilly that he would be anxious to read her response, knowing he had to wait several weeks for a reply letter. The mail came via ship across the Atlantic. He had also told Lilly to not send a response by telegram because as you had to pay by the word count this would be too expensive for her to write all her feelings.

Never one to be told what she could or could not do, mom went ahead and sent a telegram that used only one word: COMING.

This diary is the account of how dad’s dream of the perfect marriage became real. It is from his perspective (which is usually the one he preferred to use) as nothing from Lilly’s side of the story exists except the photos that dad took of her as he recorded those first moments of their long life together. A few of those are included here.

But first Lilly had to get to the States, and dad had to find a way to meet her when she arrived in New York City, get married (as that was the provision for getting into the USA at the time), and then get back to Salt Lake City (on a very limited budget) where they could be officially married in church … all the while trying to get to know each other.

Here’s how it all came about. I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I did when I first read it.

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MAY 24, 1935

Arn (lifelong friend Arnold Knapp) and I were talking last night about this “getting married” business and decided that it would be quite a thing for drawing out the smiles in years to come if a record were kept of the honeymoon. So I stopped in at Woolworths where I picked up this worthy little book.

This going away and getting married seems to affect others more than it does me – anyway they seem to enjoy talking about it more than I do. Altogether I have told – let me see – Arnold, the folks, Blanche (girlfriend), Phil, Gina, and Dennis about my getting married. Only six, yet from those six everyone knows about it! Almost as bad as the chain letters that are circulating about. There must be something about getting married that is worth talking about – I’ll know more about it over on about page 50!

I had an exceptionally busy day at work – mostly voluntarily “busy” so I could keep my mind off the reality of it all. For even though I hate to admit it, this thing of marrying someone you have never been “close” to, well after all F. Eliason got quite a thump out of searching for nervousness in me at work, but I kept myself so busy drawing a 16’ 6-8 trailer, I think he was disappointed.

Anyway I bid Lott, Fred, and Dave a fond adieu and left the Lang Bros. shop at 4:30 as I’d promised myself, so I could get changed and eat before coming back to the station. At noon I had dropped in at Stephens’ and

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he treated me to a “Wedding Haircut”, all of which I didn’t mind at all being as I only have $89 to last me until the whole plunge is over! I had a strange farewell supper. I was so nervous that I didn’t have much appetite and couldn’t eat much. But at that I must have been more at ease than my folks for I was the only one who ate! Turner at the Bus Depot told me to be at the bus 45 minutes early, so I got my gladstone and briefcase packed, picked up my raincoat and left the house about 6 o’clock. The folks and Katherine and her kids took me down to the depot. Mother had a lunch fixed for me that looked bigger than my bag. But I unpacked it and got it scattered around in my coat pockets and suitcases so that she got all her sacks back.

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I was at the depot plenty early so got my choice of seats taking the front left outside seat where I hoped to be free from tobacco smoke. The bus is a new streamlined type having run only 6 weeks but 22,000 miles. Built by White Company.

We were 31 passengers pulling out of Salt Lake. The bus driver, after checking our tickets, sold pillows to last to Omaha for 15 cents each. But I’ll suffice with the pillow on the seat. The seats can fold back, so are pretty nice for sleeping in. The bus pulled out at 7:20 amid the cheers of the many throngs to see me off – my folks only. Guess Arn got tied up and couldn’t make it. The rest thought I was leaving Saturday. We had a nice sunset over the lake and just as I got thinking about it the bus horn blew me back to my position – what a blast. I thought we were heading for Ogden,

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so was surprised when we cut off thru Weber Canyon at Woods Cross. The passengers are chiefly a loud mouthed bunch from California – middle aged men acting foolish. All of which proves that there is no fool like an old fool. I have as a traveling companion a middle aged quiet lady from Salt Lake to Kansas City who passes the time in eating chocolates and squirming around for a more comfortable sleeping posture. We stop quite often – every couple hours for five minutes or so for rest – which is a rest. The evening passed without incident interrupted only by my California friends cries of “hamburgers” every time we hit a town. Slept very well.

May 25, Saturday.

Had a 20 minute rest period in Rawlins at 5am and from there on started looking for Independence Rock.

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Must have dozed off for I haven’t seen it yet. At Laramie stopped for breakfast of my mother’s jam and peanut butter sandwiches and a banana. Enjoyed reading my Collier’s Humor into Cheyenne, alternated with half hour spells of just dreaming of Lilly.

Lilly on board ship with fellow travelers.

If she is thinking as much of me on board the S.S.Washington as I am of her, I’m afraid her deck tennis game is poor.

Took myself a nice little walk in Cheyenne and bought a magazine to read.

My traveling companion left here to take the bus to Denver. Also another bus joined us to follow us into Omaha. We were 30 in the first bus and there were nine in the second. The busses travel at the rate of 55 miles/hour and have governors installed to prevent overspeeding. The drivers change every eight hours and are all careful, stopping at every railroad crossing.

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Next in Kimball, Nebraska, the road plenty dusty as there was a slight detour, and plenty hot. Ate the rest of my lunch in my briefcase. Nebraska must be a terrible place to live, just plains, plains without end. Supper in North Platte. Decided to get a square meal but as I got out of the bus the appetite dwindled more and more and I ended up with a piece of apple pie that tasted rotten, so bought myself a couple of apples and wrote a card to send home.

May 26, Sunday

Woke up as we were pulling into Omaha. Many of its 250,000 were still up and busy on the street. We tipped the porter and again I got the front seat of the new Chicago & Northwestern bus to take is into Chicago. 500 miles yet. We clipped over the road at a good rate as we were late in pulling out. The scenery was

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more rolling and interesting, especially in the glare of the bright bus spotlight. So I stayed awake, but must finally have dosed off as I awoke at daybreak somewhere in Iowa, close to Des Moines, with a severe stiff neck. Even the horn doesn’t seem to wake me now. I’m getting so used to sleeping sitting up now that when I finally go to bed for a “sleep” I’m afraid I’ll wake up sitting in a chair! So it was breakfast in Des Moines, lunch in Davenport, and supper in Chicago. Incidentally I finished the last of the sandwiches on the lawn of Chicago’s Michigan Drive Park.

Was dead tired when I got off the bus at Chicago but the supper helped. Walked down on State and took in a show. The vaudeville was both good and bad. I might be able to use one skit put on about “ cancel the other order of beans” (?)

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Am in the Union Bus Station at Wabash and 12^th. My bus leaves for Detroit in one hour at 12:15 or 1:15 daylight savings. Will have to get a shower in the morning before visiting any Freuhauf (truck trailer) factory. Lilly is right in the middle of the Atlantic now – I hope. I don’t really know yet if she sailed or not as I haven’t heard from her since the 7^th of May. The idea of living with her directly upon her arrival seems quite breathtaking, but I guess we’ll get over it – we’ll have to! Just time for a card to the folks.

PS by the way we had a blowout today…a sweater blew out the bus window!

May 27, Monday

Rolled into Detroit in a unconscious stupor and just had enough wits left about me to get my Gladstone checked, look up a YMCA in the phone book, pick up a map of Detroit at a hotel to find it.

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And walk just across the square to where it was. A wash-up and breakfast seemed to bring me back to my senses, so I looked up the address of the Freuhauf trailer outfit and took the bus out. The office was too indifferent to see me so I went and strolled around their machine shops myself to see what I could see. However the only thing I was so interested in seeing made wasn’t to be seen. Namely how the trailer frame drops were made … as they were made at a steel factory. However I did learn that the round nose trailer shouldn’t be round as we were trying to make them (back at Lang’s in Salt Lake), but elliptical instead. I also learned that there is such a thing as a steel buzz saw. Namely a very thin carburendum stone. Otherwise the shop was very much as usual with nothing over our own. Saw a show and went to bed at 7 for

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a 12 hour sleep which seemed only like 4 when I got up. By the way, second-hand cars in Detroit seemed more expensive than I guessed, being only about $75 under those in SLC. Pulled out for Toledo at 7am more dead than alive and slept most of the way. At Cleveland, the bus to NY was loaded, so they made us a new “section”. There were only 11 of us in the second bus. I got the front seat per usual, making my ride from SL to NY a front seat one. The whole distance which would be lucky at half the way! The Ohio roads are terrible being brick almost 100%!

Wed May 29.

Some pretty scenery in Pennsylvania coming across the Allegheny mountains and along the Allegheny and Susquehanna rivers. Into NYC at 9:30 on schedule at the Greyhound’s new depot by Penn station. Looked up a YMCA, namely Sloan’s, and went down to sign up for a room 1066 at $1.00 per night.

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Room very small but clean. Called up the Eastern States Mission and found President Cotton unavailable. So went to the Marriage Bureau in the Municipal Bldg to get myself a license. But was soon headed out again with a long face as they wouldn’t give me one without Lilly’s presence. And being Decoration Day tomorrow, this of course postpones the wedding one day. Visited then the US Line’s office at Broadway #1 and wrote a letter to LM which I handed to them to deliver. Went over to the Customs House and received a pass to the pier for tomorrow. Nothing left to do then but wait. I took in a show on Broadway then remembered that there might be some letters for me at the McAlpin Hotel. There sure enough was! Both from Lilly (from Esbjerg), and from the folks. So it appears

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that she must really be on the boat! Took myself a good bath and crawled early to bed.

Thurs May 30.

Decoration Day. Saw no flags upon arising so surmised that NY must chiefly celebrate the days of the unleavened bread or such… Hurried down to the Pier #60 at the foot of 19^th Street and picked up a couple rolls (4 for a nickel) and a couple bananas (2 for five cents) to eat on the way. But I could have saved myself the rush for the boat was an hour late. So in the meantime I wrote a card to Arn and went over to the cooler “Sailors Home” to write a letter to Orson. Finally about 9:30 the boat, the S.S.Washington, rounded the pier and pulled up alongside. I got two glimpses of Lilly, just enough to convince me she was on board. She didn’t come off with the other passengers so I learned that she

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had to stay on board and be examined with the “aliens”, all of which annoyed me very considerably. While waiting I found her baggage under “M” and read the paper. Finally about 11am she came off the boat under the custody of the Travelers Aid. When she leaned over the rail and kissed me, it seemed that we had kissed a thousand times before it was so natural. Anyway, Miss Very-Polite of the Traveler’s Aid wanted some more “info” concerning myself and friends, as to wage, age, occupation and such…which I gave with external smiles and internal contempt. Anyway, she finally left. And soon we had Lilly’s 3 pieces of baggage inspected, checked to the bus station, and were in a taxi on our way to her room at the YWCA. She was very tired as she had been

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up since 5:30, but we resolved to spend the day together. After lunch at Thompsons we picked up a telegram to us at the McAlpin from Katherine and Aage.

We then strolled into the writing room on the mezzanine floor – whereby commenced a series of episodes which cannot be so readily described by any words, but better by just the letter “M”.

Walked down to Radio City to see “Under the Pampas Moon”,

And a very fine stage show which was well worth the 85 cents each. Got out of the show perfectly convinced that I was more in love than I thought.

Had supper at an Automat then took a sub to Central Park where we stayed till after 12 – and thereby hangs a tale – . However let it suffice that we enjoyed our engagement day to as great an extent as an engagement will permit.

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Friday May 31

Got up early and checked out of the YMCA taking my bags aboard a cross town streetcar for the McAlpin Hotel where I rented a $6.00 double room (room 1220 by the way) with twin beds for $4.00 on account of my missionary letter of introduction from Brother Reynolds.

I was to meet Lilly at 11am so by the time I got over to the YW she was waiting in the door for me.

We checked out and took the streetcar for the McAlpin and after getting straightened in our room had breakfast at Thompson’s. We must have spent quite a bit of time getting acquainted with each other in our room on the sofa, for before we knew it, it was 2pm, so we dashed down to City Hall to get our license. I didn’t have any birth certificate to prove my age

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but luckily Lilly had per passport and that seemed to satisfy them. We swore to the clerk to the truth of our statements on the license then were preparing to depart for Brooklyn to get married but on learning of this we were told that we would have to get the license over there for that. So the time rapidly approaching four we decided it would be just as good to get married then and there. So we “blaste kirken et stykke” and we walked upstairs to the chapel to get married. We paid $2 for the license, $2 for the wedding in the chapel, and $1 for the witnesses. I forgot all about paying the justice for the actual ceremony until I saw the long expression on his face, and then it was too late. The wedding ring I had was too small so we got along without

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one – which made the wedding even shorter. We had all we could do to keep from laughing at the first part of the ceremony but when he said something about “love and honor” I suddenly felt serious and remember no more except that I clasped her hand tighter (as we were holding right hands) and kissed her when he had pronounced some blessing on us.

We were both starved so dashed downstairs for a meal of pot roast and strawberry dessert at a cafeteria. Outside, the Lord was shedding his blessings on us in the form of rain. Back again at the hotel I wrote some letters while Lilly had her hair fixed and then went down to arrange our bus ticket reservations and check her cases thru to South Bend while she wrote. I brought home some sandwiches,

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ginger ale, and fruit, and we had ourselves a little wedding supper in our room. We took a picture with the flowers our folks had sent and then after a good bath each and mutual prayer, went to bed.

We lay each in his own bed looking at each other for a while – they seemed so far apart. We pulled the beds as close together as they could come with the telephone table in between and held hands for a while. That made the beds seem even further apart, so we turned the phone table around and got another 6 inches closer. This also developed to be too far, so after a while, Lilly invited me to come over in her bed, which I must admit, I was glad for, even though I did hesitate in accepting. It was grand just to be able

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to be close to each other. Then after a while Lilly went over in my bed and we went to sleep. And thereby closes the wedding day -- and as much as I expected of it, it was even better.

June 1 Saturday.

After quite a few unsuccessful attempts, finally got up, and got down to Thompsons for breakfast. Lilly had quite a nice letter from Krista and some pictures. So we have heard from quite a few of our friends. Katherine and Aage sent us a telegram, as did Fred Rechida. I wired back the folks, and also Fred as soon as we were married and told Fred to buy the beer for the boys.

After breakfast we took a bus over to Grants Tomb on Riverside Drive, riding on the top deck and enjoying as much of the scenery as we could

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while we were getting the blown up sand out of our eyes.

Took the sub down to South Ferry – by the way Lilly doesn’t think much of the subs—quite the contrary. We only had a minute to make the Statue of Liberty boat after we got off the subway so we ran hard to the dock – only to wait a half hour for it to pull away after getting on board.

Enjoyed the little sail and visit to the top of the statue. I noticed that the mouth of the dear girl measures about three feet across. On the boat trip back something happened so that to me it seemed that Lilly was peeved at me. It seemed that I had irritated her – and I didn’t feel very good. We didn’t speak on the sub back to the hotel. She avoided me entirely and as soon as we were in

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our room, she threw herself on the bed and pretended to sleep. I didn’t know what to do—I was sick. Actually I’ve never felt so heartsick before in all my life. There I stood by her bed wanting to do everything for her that could possibly be done, yet afraid to do anything for fear she would criticize me. And I felt so low that I would rather have everything quiet as it was, than to do something to show her how much I loved her and then be scolded for it. So I waited, and she fell asleep as I could hear by her breathing, and then later awakened. I got her a glass of water and we got to talking with the result that everything was OK again. I think the trouble was that we just didn’t understand each others thoughts completely. And before we do, things

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are bound to be a little difficult. We walked down 34^th street and seeing some cheap dresses in a shop went in and bought a green one for $1.98 (Danish stuff am leaving out here). Had a nice supper at a cafeteria (liver and onions) then spent the rest of the evening in taking baths and “________”

Caught the bus to Rochester at 12:45am and had fairly good reserved seats on the second row.

June 2 Sunday

I spent a rather cramped night in the bus as there wasn’t room to stretch you legs. No pillows were sold in NY, which didn’t help any. At lunchtime we stopped in some town, but Lilly and I forgot to eat, and instead walked up and down the streets and probably shocked some of the local people by kissing in public, ha! Reached Rochester very much tired

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Checked our bags in a couple checking lockers and walked to the outskirts of town with our briefcases and rented a room for tourists in a private home for $1.50 for the night. It was then 4pm so by the time we hat bathed it was suppertime. So we walked downtown and enjoyed supper in a café to the accompaniment of radio music. Spent rather a fair night at the … in a too soft bed, for it felt too much as though u was laying on my head and feet with nothing in between. But I placed my pillow under my back and managed better. Breakfasted where we had supper then took the bus to Palmyra.

The fare was $1.10 each, return. The old station agent at Palmyra mumbled in the telephone for us and got us a taxi (just an old hack)

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to take us out to the hill, groves, and back for $2.00. At the hill we met the first saints, in the form of missionaries, we had seen for quite some time so had a nice couple words chat with them while looking over the new statue of Moroni almost ready for dedication. One of the lady missionaries was related to Clark Gardner’s girl, Lois Fairbanks.

After a picture, drove to Joseph Smiths farm, and walked down to the grove. Missed the trail into the grove and got into a bull’s private pasture instead. But Lilly’s red dress, the bulls stamping and a human instinctive fear for mad beasts soon got us on the right trail. I set up my Voigtlander and took a picture by the large tree where Joseph Smith was to have had the

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vision. Just as we got it snapped, it started to pour down in an A No 1 cloudburst. We stopped under a tree til the mosquitoes got too bad for Lilly, then after she had taken my coat over her red dress we dashed for our taxi. The missionaries at the hill had told us about the chapel so we found that in Palmyra and went inside to rest a bit and read some church songs. Just as we were about to leave, a missionary came in and took us upstairs and introduced us to the landlady. So we spent about 15 minutes with them. And of course they seemed very thrilled about our getting married. Outside the sun was out again so we strolled over to the park and took advantage of the empty swings for a while.

Back at the bus station waiting for our bus to Rochester

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we saw quite the comic sight. An old half drunk highwayman came in and bought a couple strong cigars. Lighting a match, he says to the old station agent “Ever see a man shave with a match?” And with this remark he struck a match on his big pants and ran the flame across his face, wincing a little, but doing a nice job of it. After it was over he pulled out his hanky and calmly wiped off the ashes. The station agent didn’t bat an eye, but I had all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. When we left the station to board our bus it smelled as if someone had been burning chicken feathers in there. The bus followed the highway into Rochester and didn’t stop at all the neighboring towns as did the one we rode out in. I didn’t mention that while riding out, we stopped at one town and the station keepers dog came

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running out with its tail wagging and picked up the bundle of newspapers in its mouth and too it back to the station. We rode in the rear seat which on account of being so obscured was quite convenient for honeymooners.

Coming back to Rochester, Lilly and I went out searching for some Cuban bananas we had seen in the fruit shops, but she suddenly felt the urge to return to the station rest room. So I continued alone and bought a half dozen each of Cuban and ordinary bananas for 18 cents a dozen for the very large ones. Back at the station I met Lilly again and she had the sad news that (dad wrote in Danish that mom had her period) she was “syg.” So we walked around a bit and found a drug store but upon looking in, she could only see men clerks so refused to go in. And we searched for another with this same

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result. The third place she spied a lady and went inside to get some of the material we had seen in the window while I stood outside and snickered to myself. It rained a bit but quit in a few minutes. While waiting for the Niagara bus, we enjoyed some of those large Cuban bananas which are reddish in color, short, but about twice as thick as the regular ones and taste about the same. The bus to Niagara was an old timer but it could certainly travel fast—or maybe it just seemed fast because it rattled so much. In Niagara Falls Lilly was so anxious to get out she forgot her hat. That made me very happy but it didn’t last long for the hotel clerk called up the bus station and had it brought back. The room in the hotel “Temperance House: was $2.00 but he let us have it for $1.50. We parked our

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grips in the room, then dashed down to the falls to see them before the lights were turned off—for it was 10:30—an hour later than we figured from the timetables on account of daylight savings time.

The falls were nicely lit up, but not colored. We bought some postcards on the way back to our room and wrote them before going to bed. I sent one to Ed Shipp who I had forgot up to now, and to Knud and the grandfolks. Took a picture of ourselves eating breakfast in the honeymoon city and walked again to the falls for another picture. Back at the hotel we learned that the clerk had given us the wrong train time, and we had missed our train to Buffalo, but we managed to get the next one that brought us to the Buffalo Bus Station just one minute before the bus was scheduled to leave. The train to Buffalo is a high speed trolley and the fare was 70 cents each.

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bus station, but the thing was ½ hour late anyway. So in all the times I have caught the bus, they never even once did leave on time. A steward was on this bus so we had a very nice ride along lake Erie and into Ohio to Willoughby where we got off and after checking our grips with the soda fountain station agent, took a taxi to Kirtland to see the first temple.

A reorganized LDS was explaining the place to some tourists. We didn’t stay long as Lilly didn’t seem interested. I took a postcard of the rear end of the building with the pulpits where Christ appeared, left a dime in the collection box, and too the taxi, or rather, the old sedan, back to town. The driver told us about the large school for girls there and how it had been built on the will of a rich family. The man and wife both perished together in a hotel fire and as the wife was the last one seen alive in the

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flaming window, the money went to her estate, and her will which called for the school to be built. Back in Willoughby we went into a nice clean restaurant with a washroom where we got cleaned up, and enjoyed a good dinner with radio music. Then we went down and saw a show “Richelieu” and an Our Gang comedy with “Spanky” that was one of the best I’ve ever seen.

At 11pm we boarded our bus for Cleveland where we transferred to the Chicago bus, our last bus ride – and we were glad. A pillow for 15 cents was a little help in sleeping.

June 5 Wed. South Bend at last. It is a town about the same size in population as SLC, but looked so small I didn’t recognize it and almost rode on past. We pulled up to the station around 9am. Lilly’s two boxes were there OK. I inquired as to Studebaker’s whereabouts and left Lilly at the depot to walk out

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there as the few streetcars they had didn’t come close. At the drive-away department (dad had previously arranged to pickup a new Studebaker and drive it back to SLC to help defray his costs), Mr. Jordan advised me that no license plates were there for the car so I had to wire Norville in SLC as to what to do. While waiting for a reply, I walked, or rather paced back to the depot and had breakfast with Lilly. I surprised her reading “my book” – and was she surprised, ha. Phoned out to Jordan and learned Norville had wired to buy Indiana plates, so paced out to the factory again and signed for the car, a blue President land cruiser worth $1600 with radio, spotlight, and heater.

After buying the $11 license and some fruit, met Lilly and loaded in her two boxes on the rear seat and our grips in the trunk compartment in the rear. Sailed out of South Bend to the tunes of sweet radio music and glad to be on the last stretch home.

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Lilly dozed most of the way to Chicago. Even tho the car had a governor on limiting us to 40mph, we mad the 90 miles in about 3 hours. The highway markers were sure handy in finding the road in Chicago. Without them we would surely have been lost. Coming into Chi we had our eyes peeled for the “Tourist Rooms” sign, and when we passed one with garage, we turned around and took the room for the night, for $1.50 and 25 cents for garage. We took turns bathing then drove to a suburban restaurant where we had supper.

June 6 Thursday

A slight drizzle was falling in the morning but by the time we had packed up it had stopped. We drove into the city along Michigan Blvd stopping to see the Natural History Museum and the Shedd Aquarium. We left Chicago on the Joliet road stopping a short ways out of town for lunch at a country restaurant where we got a large dinner

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Including soup, milk, salad, and dessert for 35 cents. The car is running fine but seems to use a lot of gas. Maybe it is because we are traveling so far. Gas out here costs around 17 cents a gallon compared with 21 cents in Salt Lake. Lilly is feeling pretty good considering and except for a tired feeling in my back from driving, I couldn’t be better. Drove past Joliet prison and later into Peoria. The weather clouded up again so we drove thru rain that soon put a nice layer of mud on the car. The roads are quite narrow down thru Illinois and there are no shoulders, only grass, so driving here was tiresome as I had to be so careful. Towards evening we began looking for a place to eat supper and finally stopped at a newly furnished home and restaurant in the country. The daughter

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of the house took our order and fried us some eggs. We let her decide the dessert and she gave us some strawberry shortcake. While eating, a farmer drove by and upon seeing our car outside, came inside and says “Where is the president? I see his car outside with President written all over the wheels” We decided to push on into Carthage, so with the help of the spotlight we made good time and drove into the town at 9:30. The only Tourist park proved to be deserted so we had to be content with the hotel where we got the cheapest room they had on the top floor in the rear corner for $1.50. For since buying that license for the car we “svomnig in penge” “swimming in money” no longer. But the room wasn’t so bad tat that, even though it did look a trifle Danish with its pitcher and bowl arrangement.

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One week wedding anniversary, but to me it seems that we have always been married. Packed up fairly early in the morning. Getting dressed, Lilly used the bathroom and I used the toilet, where there was running water so we wouldn’t have to use the pitcher and bowl. But then we always dress in two different places. Our car was still OK on the street where we left it. We drove across the square and had breakfast at the same place I ate a year ago while returning from my mission. We then asked for the old Carthage jail and drove down the couple blocks where it was.

After taking a picture of it we rang and the lady caretaker showed us the room upstairs where Joseph and Hyrum were killed—with the bullet hole in the door and the bloodstains on the floor. I don’t know if she expected

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anything for showing us around, but all she got was Thanks. We drove down the highway to the river where we turned north on the river road for the 12 miles to Nauvoo. The road was wet but hard underneath so safe enough. At Nauvoo, we were taken through the old homes of Jos. Smith and saw a lot of old church relics. Of most interest to me was the graves of Joseph and Hyrum. I learned for the first time why there had been such secrecy in burying Joseph, namely because there was a reward of $500 on his head. Emma first buried him in the basement of the Mansion with a fake casket buried on the temple lot. But when the fake casket was dug up by enemies, she became alarmed and had Joseph’s body secretly removed from its first burial place and transferred under the floor of the old little house

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nearby, where it was found about six years ago. We drove to the Nauvoo Ferry, but it was closed, so drove back down the river road and headed for Independence. We crossed the river at Quincy and paid 50 cents for the privilege.

Driving thru Missouri, we heard on the radio that the rivers were flooding and that the highway we were travelling on was blocked near Kansas City. But we were to branch off to a more southern route so we could pass thru Independence, so didn’t care. However, as we neared the Charleston River, we noticed that the countryside was flooded, so stopped to get a picture of the telegraph poles and trees half buried in water. The road was about two feet above the general level of the land

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and was therefore above the flood. However, once a little water was on the road, so we felt quite proud of having driven thru “flood water” – little did we think of what was to come.

About dusk we rand into a large lineup of cars and upon advancing found that the highway was completely flooded over for as far as you could see. That quite discouraged us for a while as we had figured on driving on into Independence. But then we learned that cars were going thru OK—all you had to do was to drive slow so the water didn’t splash into the auto distributor, and keep between the sticks that stuck up over the water and marked the edges of the road. So we waved farewell to the crowd gathered at the waters edge and sailed in. The first stretch

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was only about a block long and we got thru that fine even though the water was up to the runboards. The next piece was over a mile long and as we were going in low slower than the engine idled, I had to use the clutch a lot, and got plenty tired in my foot. We passed a few cars that had tried to take it too fast and had killed their engines. They were being pushed out. It was a relief to get on dry land again even though the brakes were wet and wouldn’t work for awhile. We drove into Independence about 10pm and as the only Tourist Room was filled, took a hotel for $1.50. We bought a strawberry pie for 20 cents and had ourselves a little supper before turning in.

June 8 Saturday

Got the car from the lot where I had it parked during the night.

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and drove over to the reorganized tabernacle on the temple grounds. As we walked in one of the members wanted to show us the place, but he was so interested in bragging up the place that he was more nuisance than good—he irritated Lilly even more than me. He loaded us with reorganized literature when we left, which we took in order to keep someone else from reading it. Drove up to our own church; here the office of the Central States Mission, and at once felt a far better spirit. Was surprised to meet Lynn from Yale Ward who just arrived the same morning from Salt Lake, to spend two years in the mission. Drove with him down to see the old jail where Jos Smith has been tried. Lilly & I drove over to the temple grounds again, as Pres Woodruff

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hadn’t yet arrived—and took a picture of ourselves on the temple lot. When we returned to the office, Woodruff was there, so I bummed him for $10.00 as we were running low and left an IOU with the mission secretary. Lilly was anxious to start off so we drove off heading for home for good. Driving thru Kansas we saw a turtle on the road and stopped. But it had evidently been hit, for it smelled as if it had long been dead, even though it were yet alive, so we let it be. Later we passed another one. He was plenty big and lively so we put him in the “Turtle-back” and planned a home for him among our goldfish. I was burning hot in Kansas and Lilly kept shedding clothes until she was riding in her negligee. We stopped and bought a pint of

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ice cream to eat on a side road, and after necking a bit hit the trail again.

Lilly prayed for rain, and while we were taking time out necking by the side of the road—here it came—as good a cloudburst as I’ve ever witnessed. Going into Salida we picked up a horse-shoe nail just as we were passing a garage. As I didn’t know how to change tires with those guards on the fenders, this was “held I wheld”. ( Just remembered that it was the next day in Colorado that we picked up the nail—that’s how it goes when you don’t keep the diary up to date.) But we had worse luck than horse-shoe nails for while driving into Salida on some detour, we hit a “dip” in the road that almost cracked the car double, and pushed Lilly’s two cases thru the ceiling of the new car. Did that make us feel sick!

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We were through for that day so stopped in Salida with a kind old lady in her Tourist Room at only $1.00 for the night, parking our car with the neighbors. The damage to the car, two big holes in the ceiling I estimated at $15.00 but it could have been a lot worse, so we soon got in better spirits again.

June 9 Sunday

The trip into Colorado and to Denver was quite tiring, the only thing making it interesting being the detours, which showed us the dried out conditions of so many of the farms, and gave us the puncture I mentioned. Couldbursts had visited the place about 3 days before and washed out 3 highway bridges and a railroad bridge, so we had our flood experience of Missouri repeated in that we had to cross the river twice and in the dark too. Our spotlight again proved handy. During the day we

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also passed thru the edge of a dust storm. We could see the storm as a pillar about 30 feet high. In Denver we got a lovely room for $1.00 and decided to stay there till we got the car fixed.

Jun 10 Monday

The first thing I did in the morning was to look up the Studebaker dealer and drive down to see about getting the head lining fixed.

I drove around town with the top maker and luckily finally found piece of goods that matched very well. He promised me the car about 3pm, for $15 just as I had guessed. Bought pie, strawberries, milk, cake, and bananas at a Piggly Wiggly and took the streetcar “home” to Lilly. I felt so lost without her since being with her almost constantly since she landed. After eating we walked to the State Capitol and then to the church. Rexy wasn’t there and none of the missionaries would lend me anything so we took a car to town

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and wired Hag at the job in SL for some money. We also sent a wire to my sis for her birthday, and to let them know when to expect us. The car wasn’t ready at 4pm so decided to stay in Denver until the next day. Learned the sad news that our turtle had crawled out of his box at the repair shop and left us without even giving us his forwarding address. Took the car to the Studebaker dealer and had the governor removed, and to the garage to get it gassed, fed, and greased, ready for the 600 mile trip to Salt Lake tomorrow.

Tuesday June 11

Up at 5am and hit the trail at 6:30 for Salt Lake. Kept the car at 65 miles practically constantly except while going thru the mountains by the Colorado-Wyoming border where we drove thru clouds. The radio seemed on the bum today so we couldn’t pick up SL as we wanted.

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The road was perfect and we covered the ground so fast, driving wasn’t tiresome at all. We hit Ft Bridger at 2pm and rested there one hour. Stopped in Evanston for a malted milk. All we have eaten all day has been fruit—we haven’t taken time for a regular meal. We crossed the border into Utah and even slowed up a bit across the detour at Echo Dam, but anyway kept good time and were in Parley’s Canyon about 6pm. Stopped there to wash up in the creek then came into town. Took a picture by the sign “Entering Salt Lake City”.

Drove up State to the Capitol then down Main to the Temple square which we visited, then drove home thru Gilmer Drive. The folks were on the front porch when we drove up and sure seemed glad to see us but no more glad than

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I was to be back after that long trip of almost three weeks of constant riding. They had a nice supper for us which tasted swell even though we didn’t feel so hungry at first. Arn, Phil, and Louise came at 9pm about the same time to shower their welcomes on us, ostensibly but mainly to see Lilly I think—and I don’t think they were disappointed. I promised to drive Phil where he was going, and on the way we met Dick. He effervesced all over the place when he saw Lilly and kept us laughing till we ket him off down town. He is planning on going thru the same as I soon, with Laila Guertzen.

We were both plenty tired so hit the trail for bed in what is to be our home for the next half year—the amusement room and basement which the folks have fixed up very nicely.

So here we are at what seems the end, but which is really the beginning. Three weeks ago I began this book—I started my wedding trip—I sighed, I wondered. Today the trip is over, the book is finished.

Yet again I sigh, I wonder.

Christmas in Wilmette 1954

 A Christmas in Wilmette I'll never forget

About a year after my first trip to the Carlson Building in Evanston, Dr. Grover said it was time to remove my braces. As I got ready for my appointment, Mom said it might snow later, so I put on my rubber galoshes, a heavy coat, and a wool cap with matching mittens that my aunt Betty had made for me. I had about $7 in my pocket and reached in to count it one last time.

In front of the ‘L’ station, the Duncan yo-yo man was demonstrating all the cool things you could do with a yo-yo, even in the winter. "It's the perfect gift for Christmas," he said to the small group of people watching. "And only twenty-five cents each." I fished out a quarter, then changed my mind. The only yo-yo I ever owned ended up in my sock drawer after a frustrating week of practice.

Inside the terminal, I slid my quarter across the counter at the ticket booth. A token for the return ride was pushed back, with the same instructions I’d heard a dozen times: “No running and watch your step.”

The train waiting on the platform was one of the old wooden ones, packed with shoppers and way too hot. Ten minutes later I got off at Davis Street, happy to be out in the fresh air, walking in the late afternoon twilight. All the shops were brightly lit with Christmas decorations.

The big clock on the Marshall Field department store said I still had about 30 minutes before my appointment, so I went in to Neisner’s dime store in search of presents for my family.Their front windows were crammed with ideas for the holidays. Inside, the smell of fresh buttered popcorn hit me, and I bought a small bag for ten cents. Fifteen minutes later, I had picked out an assortment of gifts, including a little sewing kit for Mom and a big black plastic comb for my dad. For Roy, I bought the latest Carl Perkins record, and for Earl, a miniature diecast hot-rod car with flames on the side.

I was stuck on what to get Pauline, but a lady at the cosmetics counter suggested a bottle of perfume called Radio Girl. “It’s made right here in Chicago,” she added. “And it’s only $1.25.” That was a lot more than I wanted to spend, but the little glass bottle was shaped just like the old radio my sister listened to up in her room. It was perfect.

With my presents and popcorn in a red paper bag, I headed over to the Carlson Building. I was going to save the popcorn for the train ride home but couldn’t resist trying some while it was still hot. In the elevator, the smell of buttered popcorn permeated the air and then, on the fifth floor, followed me down the hall.

Dr. Grover’s receptionist, who sat behind a small opening in the waiting room, said something smelled like popcorn as she put my coat, galoshes, hat, gloves, and bag of presents in the back room for safe keeping.

When Dr. Grover came in and said, “Open wide!” that’s exactly what I did. I was excited to get rid of my braces and wanted to be extra helpful. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Have you been eating popcorn?” I said I'd eaten some on the way over.

It took another fifteen minutes to clean all the kernels out of my braces and between my teeth. This included a lot of rinsing and spitting into the small porcelain bowl next to the chair. Finally, I was ready.

Dr. Grover wanted to numb the pain I might feel, so he gave me a hefty dose of laughing gas. I’d had it before, but it never made me laugh. All I remember next was staring out the window and watching what looked like swirling bits of snow blowing around in lazy circles. I also saw a rocket ship with some monkeys inside. Then I lost track of time.

When Dr. Grover was finished, he left to work on another patient. His assistant, Miriam, put me on a little couch in the back room and told me to lie down until the effects of the gas wore off. Mostly, though, I just ran my tongue over and over across my teeth.

By the time I was OK to head home, Miriam helped me bundle up. She handed me my bag of presents, minus the popcorn, and sent me on my way, adding, “No more popcorn or hard food for a day or so.” I was still feeling relaxed, so that was OK with me.

Out on the street, it was dark, with several inches of new snow on the sidewalks. When I got to the station, though, something was wrong. There were no lights on outside, or even inside the building. Several buses were lined up at the corner, and a lot of people were milling about in the snow, talking, shaking their heads.

A man in a long coat saw me and came over. “Where you headed, son?” I said 4th and Linden in Wilmette and he laughed. “Well, that’s not going to happen. It’s a blizzard and the power’s out. The trains aren’t running.”

I began thinking about the time I had once missed my stop, and that feeling of not knowing what to do hit me again. “Don’t worry, kid. See those folks over there?”

Four men and an older lady about my mom's age were climbing into a 303 cab. “What’s your name?” he asked. I told him my name, age, address on Greenleaf, even my phone number. “Well Mark, you come with me.”

I followed him over to the cab, where he stuck his head in the back window. “Hey, everyone, this is Mark. He needs to get up to Wilmette. Can you drop him off on your way?”

"Sure thing," said the lady, sitting on someone's lap. "Hop in, plenty of room back here, the more the merrier!" But the cab driver told me to get in front with him, and off we went.

It was slow going, and slippery. In the back, a bottle of something was being passed around. Probably not ginger ale. As we passed Northwestern University, they began singing along to a Christmas carol playing on the radio. I sat quietly up front, watching the snow, and trying to read the driver's name on the ID card pinned to the dash. It was a long name, Stanislav Rudolph Dombrowski, and it didn't seem to go with the little guy in a wool cap who was driving us along Sheridan Road. The cabby smiled when he noticed my interest in his ID card.

"You know, my mother wanted me to be special. Now, here I am driving cab in the snow." He paused for a minute to make a left-hand turn on Linden Avenue. "Anyway, at least our cabs are special. By the way, my friends call me Stan."

A few minutes later, about seven o’clock, Stan pulled up in front of our house, where Roy was shoveling the driveway. As I got out, Mom came running over to thank everyone for bringing me home. She wanted to pay something, but Stan said it was Christmas, and they were only too happy to help.

I was so relieved to be back, I’d momentarily forgotten my bag of presents on the front seat. About midway down the block, Stan's 303 cab stopped and then slowly backed up. “I think you forgot this," he laughed as he handed me my bag through the front window.

I just stood there, in my galoshes, holding my bag and watching Stan's taillights disappear in the snowstorm, thinking about how different I would've felt if he hadn't come back.

203Brent Jespersen, Suzanne Bean and 201 others

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