My mother was looking in the newspaper and she saw a picture of a most beautiful bride named Lael and she named me Lael. She hoped a little beauty would rub off on me, but it never did. Someone told me it was a name in the Bible. I looked all through it, before I finally found it in Ecclesiastes, but it referred to a man. And it appeared only once, it means “of God.” it’s from Elwhym—what God was called. It’s been a good name but I’ve had to explain it to everyone all my life.
—Lael Sorenson
DURING THE DEPRESSION
I lived on a farm, we went through the Great Depression. People in cities were jumping out of buildings, but we were lucky on the farm. We all knew we needed and depended on each other. The town and the farms together had it all. We did learn to live with nature, to utilize what we cold get. But I remember my father sitting bunched up on the front porch in the rain. He said; “The storm will beat our wheat to the ground. We’ll never be able to harvest it.” But we always got by. We had food, we had a cooperative enterprise. We shared what we had.
# # #
We had an ornery white bull who used to get out and run all around the town. He was white, ugly and horrible. It seems every time I turned down a street, there he was, waiting. Everyone in town was afraid of that bull. He was always escaping, it was a regular occurrence. My uncle Leon had to keep fixing the fence, it was too low. I think he ended up on the dinner plate too.
# # #
I grew up in Utah near Mount Nebo. I remember, in some of those little towns there were only 2 or 3 phones for the whole town. In our town, Mona, there was only one phone, at my Aunt Hazel’s. We used to pay her a quarter. It would always be for something serious, like for a doctor , I used to have to go to Aunt Hazel’s to use the phone. You had to crank it all the while you were talking. Now, we take so much for granted. Everything is instant. In those days it took a long tome getting the news. Days, weeks before some folks got the news.
# # #
When I was young, I used to love to wade in the field ditches on hot summer days. There was a place near my folks’ home where it was pretty wide, and it would gurgle. One time it was so hot I took all my clothes off. And a neighbor friend ran to my house screaming, Lael’s swimming without any clothes on!
I loved to wade in the field ditch on the way home from school or I used to leave my shoes where I went in and wade all the way home. When it was Sunday, time to go to church, my mother discovered I had no shoes. I only had one pair. We’d have to go along the ditch to find them.
Later, my folks knew they had to get up extra early on Sundays in order to find Lael’s shoes. I guess I spent the whole summer with no shoes on. I went barefoot everywhere.
* * *
Long underwear and long socks, how I hated them. I’d walk to school and as soon as I was out of sight, I’d roll them down and go to school with huge cuffs on my socks.
—Lael Sorenson
BIRD ON A WIRE
I once wrote a story, “Heedless Hattie.” It was my own story, based on my life. My parents always said, “Think before you act.” But I never did. (I still don’t think before I act.) I wrote it in a class, and my teacher said, “Develop it into a story.”
I was always in trouble. I was curious about everything. If I didn’t understand it, I’d seek it out. One morning, we had snow so heavy that some of the power lines were broken. I was in 5th grade. We’d been talking about electricity earlier that week. There were all these birds on the line. And I wondered: How come they could do that? How come they didn’t get electrocuted?
Across from the school, there was a great big coil like a black snake hissing. I just saw that red thing lying there. I could see all the red coming out of the end. I asked my friend George, “ How can the birds be alive up there?” (I was told never to touch a wire.)
Well, it was in a pool of water. When I touched it, I couldn’t get off. George couldn’t help me or he’d get stuck too. I had sparks running all through my body. I thought, “God won’t let me die.” And I fell away from the electricity. I could feel a surge of power coming up from my arm to my body.
I yelled to George, “Get me loose! Get me loose!” I could see him reaching out to touch my hand but the he pulled it back. I fell over on my side, away from it and broke the current.
All the old bums sitting at Uncle Ed’s store came running down to see if I was dead. I was ashamed, I was OK. I put on a bold front, pretended I was fine. “I’m all right, I’m OK.” I was brusque about it. I went to school, feeling bad. I went out to the loo, and snuck home.
When I got home, my mother said, “Lael, you touched that wire.” The electrician called my father and said, “She should be dead. The only thing that saved her was the water. It drew off the electricity and she fell away from it.”
I wrote about it. I should’ve called it, “Curious, fortunate to be alive.”
—Lael Sorenson
I was thinking about Mexico. There’s a pyramid somewhere in southeast Mexico. I was middle-aged, and we decided to climb to the top. You felt like you were on a mountain. But coming down all those steps took so much effort. I just wanted to slide down. I loved seeing the evidence of early people. Indications of writing. I wanted to know what it said.
There’s a spot in southern Utah where you can see a big wall, part of a mountain covered with writing. The people who lived there, left signs, writing of animals. Another world. I was old enough to have respect for that what had gone on before me. It’s a thrilling experience to come up to a cliff and to think someone had chiseled pictographs on that surfce so many years, centuries, before. It lets you know that there have been people here who’ve left their mark for later civilizations to ponder.
It’s like with Yellowstone. You see all that water gushing out of the ground, you look down and see little pools gushing and boiling, you have to restrain yourself from jumping in.
—Lael Sorenson
9/16//05 Labor Day Customs
My mother took Labor Day seriously. We had a farm but lived in Mona, Utah. Relatives from Salt Lake City would all jump into the car and drive down to the farm and Mother had to cook for them. In the morning there were hordes of people for breakfast. There were 8-10 people eating and eating. I had a cousin Will, who’d eat a huge breakfast, get up, stretch, and eat some more. And then he’d say, “well Aunt Zelda, I think I’ll run around the house. I’m ready for breakfast now.”Mother would cook a beef potroast with potatoes and onions, vegetables and carrots. homemade biscuits & jelly.
Everybody’d sleep outside on our lawn. People would be sleeping on the front porch, on the back lawn, wherever they could. All the kids had Labor Day fever, we’d decide whose lawn to sleep on ((our house was in town) There was always rivalry between us girls and the boys. They’d bring over dogs or cats to bother us and the girls would all jump up and move to someone else’s lawn. The day after Labor Day, all our relatives left and we really did labor. My mother canned pears, applesauce, green beans, and made jelly. We grew our own grapes, picked them off the vine.
My father had an apple orchard so we picked apples too. Post Labor Day meant washing the bottles, putting them upside down in a steam bath. She’d can about 20 bottles a day. For me, it was a relief to go back to school, it meant I didn’t have to can. I had to run out and get fuel for the fires—it was a kitchen stove. It was a relief when Labor Day was over. Labor Day was a hard day, It was a relief to go back to school. Those city kids were spoiled, the felt they were one level above us, the never helped out.
—Lael Sorenson
We always ran home to look at the moon. We’d spread our quilts out and watch it, it was so bright, it was almost like a sun.
—Lael Sorenson
For those of us who grew up in the country, biscuits were extra special. If you lived on a farm there was always something to do. They were always pushed for time. They generally made common food. If she had time, my mother would make something special. So when biscuits came along, we knew it was an extra special day. We ate them with honey and butter, or white gravy, it was all ours, all home grown and homemade.
Growing up on the farm, we watched our mother do many chores. Sometimes she’d milk the cattle. She didn’t like doing it but she sometimes did it so my father could get away to go hunting, which was pretty rare. If she didn’t do it, my father couldn’t go hunting as thre was nobody else to milk the cows.
I remember watching my mother thinking how smart she was, how she knew how to do most anything. She could drive the horses (after they were harnessed up), milk the cows, separate the cream, make butter, make cheese, gather eggs, grow and can fruits and vegetables. She used all those things to make a little extra money.
When I wanted to go to school in Provo, Father said we can’t send her to school. We have no money.” She said, “I’ll make more butter and eggs and cheese to sell, I can can fruit. We can send Lael to school. We’ll send food and she can live with a family. And those were the things she did. She had a way of being positive about everything and she always found a way to do it.
—Lael Sorenson
I was thinking about Mexico. There’s a pyramid somewhere in southeast Mexico. I was middle-aged, and we decided to climb to the top. You felt like you were on a mountain. But coming down all those steps took so much effort. I just wanted to slide down. I loved seeing the evidence of early people. Indications of writing. I wanted to know what it said.
There’s a spot in southern Utah where you can see a big wall, part of a mountain covered with writing. The people who lived there, left signs, writing of animals. Another world. I was old enough to have respect for that what had gone on before me. It’s a thrilling experience to come up to a cliff and to think someone had chiseled pictographs on that surfce so many years, centuries, before. It lets you know that there have been people here who’ve left their mark for later civilizations to ponder.
It’s like with Yellowstone. You see all that water gushing out of the ground, you look down and see little pools gushing and boiling, you have to restrain yourself from jumping in.
—Lael Sorenson
9/16//05 Labor Day Customs
My mother took Labor Day seriously. We had a farm but lived in Mona, Utah. Relatives from Salt Lake City would all jump into the car and drive down to the farm and Mother had to cook for them. In the morning there were hordes of people for breakfast. There were 8-10 people eating and eating. I had a cousin Will, who’d eat a huge breakfast, get up, stretch, and eat some more. And then he’d say, “well Aunt Zelda, I think I’ll run around the house. I’m ready for breakfast now.”Mother would cook a beef potroast with potatoes and onions, vegetables and carrots. homemade biscuits & jelly.
Everybody’d sleep outside on our lawn. People would be sleeping on the front porch, on the back lawn, wherever they could. All the kids had Labor Day fever, we’d decide whose lawn to sleep on ((our house was in town) There was always rivalry between us girls and the boys. They’d bring over dogs or cats to bother us and the girls would all jump up and move to someone else’s lawn. The day after Labor Day, all our relatives left and we really did labor. My mother canned pears, applesauce, green beans, and made jelly. We grew our own grapes, picked them off the vine.
My father had an apple orchard so we picked apples too. Post Labor Day meant washing the bottles, putting them upside down in a steam bath. She’d can about 20 bottles a day. For me, it was a relief to go back to school, it meant I didn’t have to can. I had to run out and get fuel for the fires—it was a kitchen stove. It was a relief when Labor Day was over. Labor Day was a hard day, It was a relief to go back to school. Those city kids were spoiled, the felt they were one level above us, the never helped out.
—Lael Sorenson
We always ran home to look at the moon. We’d spread our quilts out and watch it, it was so bright, it was almost like a sun.
—Lael Sorenson
For those of us who grew up in the country, biscuits were extra special. If you lived on a farm there was always something to do. They were always pushed for time. They generally made common food. If she had time, my mother would make something special. So when biscuits came along, we knew it was an extra special day. We ate them with honey and butter, or white gravy, it was all ours, all home grown and homemade.
Growing up on the farm, we watched our mother do many chores. Sometimes she’d milk the cattle. She didn’t like doing it but she sometimes did it so my father could get away to go hunting, which was pretty rare. If she didn’t do it, my father couldn’t go hunting as thre was nobody else to milk the cows.
I remember watching my mother thinking how smart she was, how she knew how to do most anything. She could drive the horses (after they were harnessed up), milk the cows, separate the cream, make butter, make cheese, gather eggs, grow and can fruits and vegetables. She used all those things to make a little extra money.
When I wanted to go to school in Provo, Father said we can’t send her to school. We have no money.” She said, “I’ll make more butter and eggs and cheese to sell, I can can fruit. We can send Lael to school. We’ll send food and she can live with a family. And those were the things she did. She had a way of being positive about everything and she always found a way to do it.
—Lael Sorenson
10/21/05 When I was 7
When I was 7, I wanted to be a movie star. I had a friend, Arlene, and when we were 6 or 7, we took a stick and drew in the dirt, we made a house with a stage and then we’d try to act. Arlene was excellent at acting but I wasn’t. She would always be queen. I would walk up the porch steps and kneel before her because she was the queen. Sometimes I got to be queen for a week and she would bow down give obeisance to me.
At school, my first grade teacher put on special programs so the community could see what we were up to. But by that time I had become very shy so I didn’t participate. I had my chance but... I looked into the mirror. I didn’t see anything queenly. I didn’t see anything beautiful. Arlene looked like an actress, she had beautiful curly hair. Mine hung down straight.
Every morning I went over to her house on the way to school, and her mother would be curling her hair with a curling iron. And whenever Arlene dropped her chin, her mother would whack her on the head with the curling iron. I told my mother that it was all right that I didn’t have curly hair. I didn’t want to get whacked in the head.
Over the years, I lost track of Arlene. I overcame my shyness and became a teacher, first in Utah for 10 years, then here 30 years in Fremont. In a sense, I was 40 years on stage. I taught every grade from kindergarten to 8th grade. I really enjoyed it.
When I was 7, I wanted to be a movie star. I had a friend, Arlene, and when we were 6 or 7, we took a stick and drew in the dirt, we made a house with a stage and then we’d try to act. Arlene was excellent at acting but I wasn’t. She would always be queen. I would walk up the porch steps and kneel before her because she was the queen. Sometimes I got to be queen for a week and she would bow down give obeisance to me.
At school, my first grade teacher put on special programs so the community could see what we were up to. But by that time I had become very shy so I didn’t participate. I had my chance but... I looked into the mirror. I didn’t see anything queenly. I didn’t see anything beautiful. Arlene looked like an actress, she had beautiful curly hair. Mine hung down straight.
Every morning I went over to her house on the way to school, and her mother would be curling her hair with a curling iron. And whenever Arlene dropped her chin, her mother would whack her on the head with the curling iron. I told my mother that it was all right that I didn’t have curly hair. I didn’t want to get whacked in the head.
Over the years, I lost track of Arlene. I overcame my shyness and became a teacher, first in Utah for 10 years, then here 30 years in Fremont. In a sense, I was 40 years on stage. I taught every grade from kindergarten to 8th grade. I really enjoyed it.
—Lael Sorenson
I got my first real stage break in the 60s, there was a massive teachers’ strike over tax cuts and funding. I was on the Can DO Committee. They all said, “Lael, you’ve got to give the keynote speech ‘cause you’re the smartest.” I said I can’t. but I said I can Do! and I gave that speech. And you know what? They all stood up at the end and gave me applause. A standing ovation! I said: “We can do. We must be together, we can accomplish anything.” At that point, I commanded my subjects. They later gave me an award, “Our Spokesman” One teacher said, ”You know Lael, I hated every word you said.” I spun around to face him and said, ”Tough!” That was when I was truly queen for a day.
—Lael Sorenson
I taught kindergarten. One year, we had all the children sitting under the Christmas tree, One little fellow saw a shiny barrel and he took it apart and put it back together. I was amazed at how curious he was, it was like watching myself as a child. When I taught kindergarten, each child brought a blanket for naps and I’d turn the lights down low. I was always saying, “Be quiet!” Then I heard one kid say, “Hubba.” What’s this” Then I heard it again: hubba-hubba. So I said, “Shhh!” And before you knew it, every kid was saying hubba-hubba and I didn’t even know what it meant. Then I watched that kid taking that barrel apart, and I thought, oh well! Who needs a nap? Then it was hubba-hubba all over. Well, a teacher told me, this year, it’s “vagina-vagina.” Imagine that! Where do they get these words? We often don’t realize the lessons we’re teaching. Those little children are always watching and absorbing information all the time.
—Lael Sorenson
I was thinking about a wedding gown too. My cousin lent me hers. I was married in a little town in Utah called Mona. There was nowhere to buy a wedding gown. Helen said, “Oh Lael, I’d be happy to lend it to you.” It was white and lacy and long with long sleeves. Helen and I were both the same build. My mother often made both mine and Helen’s school dresses. The dress was lacy and sheer. I was so happy to accept her offer because we didn’t have any money. It’s hard to make people today understand what the Depression was like. There was a saying, If you’re strong at all, you made the best of it you can. We did have a reception and dance. I was married in a church hall, Ward’s recreation room. I was 22 years old, I was going to school at Brigham Young University. He came from the north. We met at school. We were both in line waiting to borrow $300 for tuition. We got to talking and next afternoon we were both at a matinee dance. He was dancing with a friend & when he saw me, he said, “Pardon me Miss Ellison, you’re going to finish this dance with me.” And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Every time I was walking to the upper campus, he was walking down, so he’d pass me notes. At first I wasn’t that interested in him. I had a boyfriend. Keith was out of school that semester earning money. I lived with my grandmother and when she saw Wayne courting me, she said, “I can see you’re gone on Wayne. It looks like Keith’s going to lose out.” She saw it before I did. He was a man used to getting what he wanted, and so he did.
—Lael Sorensen
I was a school teacher, I taught school for 40 years. One of the nicest things about teaching, was that you had the summer off. I married a man in education, when he wasn’t going to school at Stanford, he had most of the summer off too. We traveled the world. We went to El Salvador, to Norway, Copenhagen, Egypt. Every time we went to a new place I bought a memoir. In my home I had two memoir cases filled with things from my travels, along with a couple of dolls. I don’t know how many miles Wayne and I traveled, but when we returned, our family always gathered to greet us. That was as exciting as traveling. One of the reasons why I wanted to see the world was because I was a teacher. I can say my teaching took me to see the world. I wanted to know it personally, firsthand, for myself. One of the most interesting places of all was the Great Wall of China, the only man made monument that can be seen from the moon
—Lael Sorenson
Have you ever been to China? You must got there. I’ve been there three times. The first time I went to China, I went to Beijing to the Emperor’s Palace. The first time I went to China they were all riding bicycles, they were riding horses and carts. The second time they had a few cars. The third time, it was as busy and congested as California with all those cars and no place to go. Imagine, you can see the Great Wall from the moon. And we walked on it from one end to the other. It’s a thrill to walk on the Great Wall. We’d take a train and walk and walk all day long and then took the train back to the city. About China, it’s such a large place, you fly from place to place, it’s so interesting to see China from the air. I’d like to go again.
I was a school teacher, I taught school for 40 years. One of the nicest things about teaching, was that you had the summer off. I married a man in education, when he wasn’t going to school at Stanford, he had most of the summer off too. We traveled the world. We went to El Salvador, to Norway, Copenhagen, Egypt. Every time we went to a new place I bought a memoir. In my home I had two memoir cases filled with things from my travels, along with a couple of dolls. I don’t know how many miles Wayne and I traveled, but when we returned, our family always gathered to greet us. That was as exciting as traveling. One of the reasons why I wanted to see the world was because I was a teacher. I can say my teaching took me to see the world. I wanted to know it personally, firsthand, for myself. One of the most interesting places of all was the Great Wall of China, the only man made monument that can be seen from the moon
—Lael Sorenson
Have you ever been to China? You must got there. I’ve been there three times. The first time I went to China, I went to Beijing to the Emperor’s Palace. The first time I went to China they were all riding bicycles, they were riding horses and carts. The second time they had a few cars. The third time, it was as busy and congested as California with all those cars and no place to go. Imagine, you can see the Great Wall from the moon. And we walked on it from one end to the other. It’s a thrill to walk on the Great Wall. We’d take a train and walk and walk all day long and then took the train back to the city. About China, it’s such a large place, you fly from place to place, it’s so interesting to see China from the air. I’d like to go again.
—Lael Sorensen. 10/13/06
When I was a child I liked to wade in the ditch that ran by the side of our house. I’d follow it up to the bench where we had agricultural fields, where it was shallow, and we would take off our shoes and socks and wade in this ditch. It was rapid and deep by our house so we never waded there. It was too dangerous. We weren’t supposed to go in the ditch. I got interested in the flowers along the way home and then come Sunday, I’d remember that I didn’t have my shoes (I must’ve only had one pair of shoes). I’d say, “I don’t know where my shoes are.” My mother would say, “You were wading in the ditch again, weren’t you, Lael.” I’d say, “Yes, but they’re not wet.” We’d have to go back and get them. It made it so we’d barely make it to church. I couldn’t exactly go barefoot. It was Sunday. Sunday was different. I was going to get all dressed up. All the rest of the days were the monotonously the same. They never spanked me for leaving my shoes, but I’m sure they’d never do a thing like that on a Sunday. After I’d find my shoes, I’d walk with my father right down the middle of the road and off we’d go to church. My mother stayed home to cook our big Sunday dinner. There was no problem with my disappearing shoes. But I must’ve gone barefoot during the week & no one noticed.
—Lael Sorensen
When I was a child I liked to wade in the ditch that ran by the side of our house. I’d follow it up to the bench where we had agricultural fields, where it was shallow, and we would take off our shoes and socks and wade in this ditch. It was rapid and deep by our house so we never waded there. It was too dangerous. We weren’t supposed to go in the ditch. I got interested in the flowers along the way home and then come Sunday, I’d remember that I didn’t have my shoes (I must’ve only had one pair of shoes). I’d say, “I don’t know where my shoes are.” My mother would say, “You were wading in the ditch again, weren’t you, Lael.” I’d say, “Yes, but they’re not wet.” We’d have to go back and get them. It made it so we’d barely make it to church. I couldn’t exactly go barefoot. It was Sunday. Sunday was different. I was going to get all dressed up. All the rest of the days were the monotonously the same. They never spanked me for leaving my shoes, but I’m sure they’d never do a thing like that on a Sunday. After I’d find my shoes, I’d walk with my father right down the middle of the road and off we’d go to church. My mother stayed home to cook our big Sunday dinner. There was no problem with my disappearing shoes. But I must’ve gone barefoot during the week & no one noticed.
—Lael Sorensen
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