1926. The sheep are looking good and a few lambs are big enough to ship. Bob is going around them and once again showing them to the baby. She too is growing and feeling good. Mary and Jack had lost their baby in 1924 so my baby was special to them and Mary had helped to make all her baby clothes. People seeing us all together would say she looked more like Mary than she did me.
We all spoiled her because she was a good baby and seldom cried. She did have that hernia, and I did watch her carefully.
Bob was a coal miner, one of the best. He cut coal, loaded mine cars and was a mule skinner. Mules or horses were used to haul the mine cars out of the mine. He made very good money, kept a little, and turned the rest over to me, telling me not to give him any if he got drunk. I bought the groceries and did not know what to do with the rest of the money, so I put it in the bank. We could have used some more clothes but we could not get along without, so I did not buy any.
I sure missed my garden, house work was so easy for me, and I got pregnant right away and Bob did not want me to mop a floor. He said he would mop when the floor got dirty. It never got dirty because I mopped it every morning just for the exercise that summer.
Aunt Pearl and Uncle Nate lived in Sego, so we visited them some, then Mary and Jack, Vick and Ethel came to work at Sego that fall. It was not so boring then.
I should not say it was boring because usually there was a dance at the coffee house on a Saturday night. Some time girls I had known in school came and stayed with us for a few days, most uninvited but always welcome.
Jan. 30, 1926 I went to get a bucket of water at a community hydrant, there was lots of ice around it, I slipped, did some gymnastics trying to regain my balance, caught hold of the hydrant, my feet went up and I sat down hard, but saved myself from a tumble of about 20 feet on the ice to the bottom of the wash. That night my first child was born. My sister Mary was there and I thought she should have been a midwife, she sure could have helped a lot of girls. Bob got the Dr., but Mary told me what to do, so I had my baby girl, a premmy. For the next three months our baby was in a lot of pain because of a hernia due to undeveloped stomach lining, so the Doctor said. Bob and Mary got her named too, Verona Edna Muir, an odd combination. I had been raised around babies but I sure did not know much about a baby that young. Mary helped Mother with the young babies and the cooking. I preferred to do dishes, sweep floors, make beds, bring in water and wood and best of all tend the garden. Now I sure had a lot to learn.
My Uncle, Otho Murphy, stayed with Bob and me off and on. He was a dreamer, he thought of a lot of things a man could do on his own in this country, but all his ideas required work. Bob listened then he talked to Dad. Some of Otho’s ideas were good, but Dad’s was more practical. He told Bob with a little money and of course work he could get a start. Dad helped us with both his knowledge and his time.
First he had Bob file on a homestead up in Spanish Valley close to Pack Creek. There was a good spring on the place. Dad and Mother come to Sego the last of March and moved us to Moab. Dad had an old Model T truck. Then Dad and Bob went to Kayenta and bought 300 Navajo sheep, five dollars a head, most of them were old ewes: $1,500 for the sheep, going after them, and the move from Sego, all that money I did not know what to do with was gone. Well we did have a baby and a new car, but no new clothes.
Dad and Mother gave us a little one room frame house, 12 by 15 ft. to put on our homestead. Dad loaned Bob his mules to plow a garden spot for me, he also put a fence around it. I was happy now that I had a garden to work in. We were broke but the Millers Co-op gave us credit. Bob was not a farmer and he knew nothing about sheep or the range. I had been helping Dad with cattle and sheep since I was 13, so I did understand range conditions. I tended the garden and also the sheep much of the time. Bob did odd jobs on the ranches, he worked for a horse and he helped Earl Somerville with haying and took hay for wages.
We herded our sheep all that first summer around our homestead. The lambs did not get very big. We did have fun learning about the sheep and exploring around our place. We found Indian ruins and arrowheads.
The sheep lambed most of the summer as the Indians did not separate the bucks from the ewes. We kept the ewe lambs and sold the wether lambs that were big enough to sell, about 30 head. It was not enough to pay the Co-op. Bob took our lambs to Thompson with Boyde Hammonds; they had to be trailed all the way.
When the lambs were sold, Bob got a job at Sego. That left me to herd the sheep. My sister, Annie came to stay with me and help care for the baby. Our car was broke down, she had to ride from the head of Spanish Valley where our homestead was to get groceries from Moab. She did not mind that horseback ride, but I had to walk and carry my baby to herd the sheep while she was gone. Annie seldom made it to town and back in one day.
One time while tending the sheep and watching Vee play with the dog I saw some sheep in the bend of the creek away from the herd so I went after them. I crossed the creek below them in order not to be between the strays and the herd. I also saw a big cat on the bank above the sheep. I yelled at those sheep and they took out of there toward the herd. The big cat stood up, only it was not a Bob cat, just a lion. I followed the stray sheep to the herd, the small sheep dog stayed close behind me growling and trying to hurry me along. We got back to the herd and started the sheep on their way to the corral, a half mile away. It seemed like a hundred miles. Every time that dog growled a little louder and pushed at my heels, I looked back and that lion looked to be much closer. Finally when we were almost to the house the lion stopped by a cedar tree and I did not see it again. My baby was 8 months old. I put her in the house then put the sheep in the corral. It was mid day but those sheep stayed in the corral until the next morning. Annie was back from town then so I had a horse to ride.
Bob came home from Sego when he could hitch a ride. He had ordered a new part for the car. When it came he brought it home but did not have time to put it in before he went back to work. Sometimes he had to walk from our place to Moab to catch his ride. While he was gone I took the transmission out and put the new part in. I just was not big enough to line the transmission up on the shaft, or whatever, to get the car back together.
When Bob came home it did not take him long to fix that car so he could go to work and come home every weekend. He worked until Thanksgiving then he came home and my sister Mary visited us a few days and showed him how to trap coyotes. From then on we always had enough money to keep us going until the lambs were sold in the fall or the wool in the spring. Jack Pogue, Mary’s husband was a good trapper and he showed Bob how to get scent to trap with. There was a bounty on coyotes but he caught some good fox. The grey ones were 50 cents to $1.50 but the cross fox were $25 to $30.
The summer of 1927 Bob put our sheep into Boyde Hammond’s herd. Bob herded them all on the mountain, Moores Range, Clarence Tangren was the camp mover. Boyde paid no wages to Bob but he did furnish the groceries and our lambs did very well. I rode once a week to our place to water the garden and young peach trees I had planted.
I lost Vee on the mountain once, there was no chance of tracking her in the thick trees, but I called the dog and he came back to me then led me to her. The first time I lost her was the fall before, she could not walk then. I was herding the sheep on foot and carrying her. The sheep took off and I knew I could never turn them back unless I laid her down, so I did just that, and ran. When I came to pick her up, it was a big area of sage brush and I could not find her. I had to locate my tracks and back track to where she was sleeping very peacefully. It took me at least 1/2 an hour to find her and as I was frantic it seemed like forever.
When we came off the mountain our sheep were pulled out of Hammond’s herd except the wether lambs which Bob drove to Thompson with Boyde’s lambs and were sold. If our neighbors had not been so nice we would have had more trouble selling our lambs and wool.
When Bob got home I moved to the ranch in Moab to help Mary care for our mother. We stayed 6 weeks, Mother was very bad all that time, she had cancer of the stomach. She died Nov. 14, 1927, leaving Dad with 5 children under 12. The youngest was 4.
I came to Dad’s home from the hospital, Christmas eve after my pesky appendix had been removed. They had given me trouble since I was 7 or 8 years old. Bob came from the sheep camp and we spent Christmas with Dad and the kids.
My aunt Mary Duncan gave Bob $500 and asked him to buy her some sheep. May 1928 my brother Felix just turned 12 years old, went with Bob to Kayenta for Aunt Mame’s sheep. He walked all the way back driving 100 yearlings for Aunt Mame. Bob drove the car and he had to build some sort of pen at night to hold those young sheep.
While they were gone my two youngest sisters stayed with me. I had the sheep to look after and they tended Vee and watered the garden.
I had a few scary experiences when I was herding sheep but the one that happened in May just before Bob and Felix came home was the one I had nightmares over. There were hundreds of cows on the Flat and Bob told me to always ride when I was with the sheep. This day I did not take time to saddle my horse, the sheep went over the hill and I went after them. I turned them about half way from the point of the hill to the old airport. I walked fairly close to what I thought was a sleeping cow. I had gone a short distance when I heard a bellow, not a cow, a big mean bull. I was beside the Plat ranches irrigation ditch. I stood still, the dog lay down at my feet and never moved. There was no place to move to. That bull pawed the ground and bellowed. He kept taking a few steps toward me, then he would stop and paw the ground again, all the time that low, mean bellow. Finally a bull up at the point of the hill figured he was being challenged. He pawed the ground and bellowed for a bit, then he trotted right close by me to meet the other bull. I was never afraid of him; he had been around for quite awhile. I did not move, and neither did the dog. As soon as those two bulls met, we took away from there fast. When I got to the point of the hill I met Felicia, Josephine and Vee. Not knowing what the situation was, they were coming to meet me.
I rode after that.
We were looking for some place to graze our sheep that summer so we moved toward La Sal. My Uncle Victor Murphy and family were renting the Dill Hammond ranch. There were a lot of abandoned farms close by him. We thought we would visit him for a few days and ask around about different areas. When we got there Bob bedded the sheep down then he went to sleep and never woke up for two days, only to eat two meals. I visited with Ethel and Uncle Vick herded the sheep. When Bob was feeling better Uncle Vick introduced him to Jack Loomis who lived in Lisbon Valley. He thought it would be a good place for our sheep. Bob caught a ride to Moab and brought our car to La Sal and left it with Uncle Vick.
Our camp outfit was loaded on a wagon. I never did like to drive a team, but I drove. Bob had a mean little half broke horse he rode to drive the sheep. The first farm we came to in Lisbon Valley belonged to Mr. Wise. They were friendly and asked us to stay for dinner. Mrs. Wise came from Ireland. It was interesting listening to her and Bob talk Irish. That is when I learned the Irish language was so different from the English. I could not understand a word they said.
We moved on and met Jack Loomis. He took us to his place and showed us a place to camp close by. While I herded the sheep Jack and Bob went for our car. There was lots of good grass. The sheep did not move around much so Mrs. Loomis and I did a lot of visiting. There were two or three children for Vee to play with.
In all of Lisbon Valley there was only three families. Wise’s at the beginning, Loomis’s in the middle and another family at the end a mile or two from Three Step Hill. We visited them all. They were friendly and lonesome, especially the women, because none of them had good cars. All had stock and when something was needed from the store the men went after it about every two or three weeks, often on horseback with a pack animal. Someone had to stay to milk the cows and feed the chickens and pigs.
When we moved it was toward a spring Jack Loomis had told Bob about, for in Lisbon Valley there is very little living water. The grass was good and that summer it rained often. Bob got up at daylight and left with the sheep. I harnessed up the horses, loaded the camp on the wagon and followed him. When I caught up I was going to cook breakfast.
I had gone about a mile when the wagon wheel hit a chuck hole. I was sitting on an empty water keg, it bounced up, I flew out of the wagon and under the front wheel. I still had the lines in my hand. The wagon wheel passed clear over my left arm and was on my stomach, but all I could think of was if it kept going it would run over my little girl too. I pulled on the lines, the horses backed up and stopped. The wheel had gone over me again. I passed out. The next thing I knew Vee was looking down at me and the sun was up. I was still where, if the horses had started up, that wagon wheel would have gone over me again. I crawled out and unhooked the horses from the wagon. I was so sick at my stomach. The next thing I remember Bob was there and so cross, he was hooking the horses back to the wagon. He told me to get in the wagon which I did. It was past eleven o’clock and he was both tired and hungry.
When we got to where he had left the sheep he fixed himself some breakfast. I asked him to get the baby out of the wagon, which he did. He got on his horse and started to leave, then he turned and asked me if I had broken anything. I told him only my gall bladder. He looked at me for a moment then said “Well you will be dead soon I guess”. Then he turned and rode away. That made me so mad I dumped his coffee into a pan, put a towel in the hot coffee, then on my stomach which was hurting so bad.
Bob came back and told me he had a good camping place by the spring and we were moving there but could not take the wagon. It was a mile up the canyon. He put the packs on the horses except the one he told me to ride. I did not say anything but I was wondering. When he was ready to go he said “Well, are you coming?” I was still sitting in the wagon. I told him I did not think I could, so he helped me off the wagon and onto the horse, put our two year old baby girl in front of me, gathered up the lead ropes of the pack horses and I did ride that mile to the new camp.
He set up the camp and I cooked supper, washed dishes, then went to bed. At daylight the sheep moved out to feed and Bob went with them. I did not want to move but I knew I had to. I got a fire going, heated some water, and put hot packs on my arm and stomach. I sat down close to the stove and anything not close to me Vee brought. I always marveled at her understanding.
I understood Bob’s problem. He knew so little about range or where to camp that the sheep would like. Sheep are really very choosy about their bed grounds. He had to depend so much on me.
Three days after that stupid tumble off the wagon Bob went out with the sheep as usual. When he came back Jack Loomis was with him. They had the car down by the wagon and told me they were taking me to the Moab Hospital. That really made me mad. I still hurt all over and I did hate to move. Vee handed me things so that I did not need to. I was beginning to sort out the worst pains and knew I was getting better and I was sure all the time I was going to live. I told them I was staying right there and if I died they could do as they pleased. Frankly I did not want the pain a ride on horse back for that mile would cause me. I had not showed Bob my arm and now he insisted. It was black, blue, green, and all shades an arm should not be. I think the bone was cracked. My stomach was black and blue too but he never saw that.
I believe I was very confusing to him. I never cried or complained or asked him to do anything. (That’s the way Dad raised Mary and me; never ask someone to do for you what you can do for yourself, and no one can share your pain so why complain).
About a week later we moved on down the valley and camped across from the old Silvey place. It was rather a long way from Moab where we did our shopping. Our tires were wearing out so Bob took Vee with him to get new ones and buy groceries. I herded the sheep.
In Lisbon Valley there were lots of mourning doves, they mourned from dawn to dark. Coyotes that howled all night and all kinds of owls, some of them could make your hair stand up with their hideous screeching. The chipmunks were friendly. One night I woke up suddenly, the tent was alive with too much activity. I struck a match. There were at least 25 or 30 chipmunks, some were on my pillow and in my hair, that is what woke me. Well, another lesson learned. I had been giving crumbs to a number of them and they were never wild. They should not have invited so many of their friends to the party.
The next night the coyotes howled more than usual and there was a lot of cars at the ranch across the valley. The sheep were restless so I did not get much sleep. Bob came back that day and told me the man who lived on the ranch had died, he had miners consumption.
Our next move was onto Middle Mesa. The days were hot with no air stirring. After sundown the wind came up and blew hard all night. Vee was cross and bored and needed lots of attention and I was very pregnant and did not even want to move. Bob went exploring one day and when he came back he said we were moving off that Mesa. His reason for leaving fast was he had found a bunch of stolen cattle penned in a side canyon and heard two men talking. We already knew we were being watched. We ran into a strange horse track too often. Sometimes very close to our camp.
I went to Moab one time while we were in Lisbon Valley that summer and that was for my sister’s wedding July 19, 1928 when Neva and Earl Martin were married. Then my brother Felix came back to the sheep camp with me and helped with one of our longer moves.
By the middle of August it was time to start a slow journey back to Spanish Valley. Bob scouted a way into East Coyote Wash. We had liked that camp ground. I was doubtful if we could hold the sheep there. We woke before daylight. Bob went to get the horses which we had hobbled. (To hobble a horse, the front feet are tied together with a soft rope or leather straps with about 6 or 8 inches of chain in between so the horse can only take small steps). They could hop, however, and they traveled that night back to Lisbon Valley and good grass. Bob had to walk back after them, only I did not know that at the time.
I had just started to eat my breakfast and Vee was not even awake when the sheep left the bed ground. I grabbed her up anyway and tried to turn those sheep. I couldn’t, of course, not on foot and carrying a two year old child. I never even thought about taking any food along.
That was a day, I paid for it too. After going about three miles traveling as fast as I could we were out of the sage brush and cedars. We had reached a little side wash with clear, cold water, plenty of grass around it too. Some of the sheep had to go exploring the main Coyote Wash, quick sand too. I pulled out the few that had got in before I was able to turn them back. They had done their mischief so they were good for the rest of the day.
Noon came and went. Vee played in the water where it spread out over some sand bars. It was very warm. We built sand castles and she slept for awhile. Finally mid afternoon Bob came. His day had been rough too. The horses had scattered and by the time he had rounded them up and returned to camp and found it as it had been when he left it. He was very worried. I always packed things away and I hadn’t this time. As I said, that was a day and I always marveled at that little girl because she never cried. Her only demand was that I tell her the story of Peter Rabbit, and she never tired of it. She learned all the nursery rhymes I could never remember. These she would tell me in exchange for Peter Rabbit.
After a few days Bob took the work horses back to Lisbon Valley to get the wagon. He had to take it and the car to La Sal. He had Vee with him. She stayed in the car until he drove the wagon a mile or two, then he returned to the car and drove it past the wagon. It was a lot of miles to take two outfits.
He brought the horses back to the sheep camp the next day. Vee was used to riding with us on the horses so she was no trouble.
One day Bob was doing something around camp and I walked up the wash to see what had frightened some sheep back. I went around the bend and came face to face with a big lynx. It made a lunge at me and I got away from there fast. It had one paw in a trap, the other end of the chain was caught in a tree stump. Bob shot the animal. He had not set any traps in Coyote Wash.
We had to be home by the last of September, therefore we did not stay long in any one place, but kept the sheep on good grass and plenty of water. Finally it was time to go home so Bob went to Moab to get someone to drive our car home. He did not want to do any more walking between wagon and car. He also decided it was best if he drove the team and let me drive the sheep.
Once again I was in camp by myself for a few days. One evening I was bringing the sheep to the bed ground and passed close to a big tree. The most awful wail came out of it. Should I see what it was or run? I did not run, I investigated. It was a big owl.
That night the sheep were restless. I started to go out to check on them. The dog did not agree with me. She turned her back to the door and growled. I thought, well, she knows best. I loaded the gun and tied the door or tent flaps as they were called as tight as I could then went to bed. What else was there to do? The little dog came close to my bed and that was usual. I slept well and in the morning I went out to see what had been there to scare her so. The tracks said a lion.
The thing that puzzled me and still does was the mice, birds, kangaroo rats and even a lizard the lion had left against the back of the tent. Why? I left them there and when Bob reached camp about midday he looked at the collection and said “the lion was a good hunter but as we were leaving it could eat its catch from now on”
It was nice to get home and have a board floor to walk on. When Mary saw me she was surprised to see I was pregnant; 4 1/2 months. The Doctor had told them I could not have any more babies.
Bob trailed the sheep to Thompson with Boyde Hammonds once again, and while he was in Thompson he borrowed $800 from John Jackson to buy more sheep. Aunt Mame stayed with me to care for Vee. It rained for three days, and all the dry washes were running with water. The second day when the sheep crossed the creek, it was high, but when I brought them back that afternoon, I had to find a wide place for them to cross, and as I reached the bank with the last of them, I looked up the creek and watched a wall of water come around the bend. I did not let them cross the creek again for a few days.
Bob returned and prepared to go to Kayenta for more sheep. I was doing dishes that morning and Bob was shaving. Why he emptied his shave water into my dish pan I did not know, but my reaction was fast. I picked up the dish pan with some of the dishes in it, went to the door and threw them all out into the yard, including the dish pan. It was done before I even thought. He picked them up and I felt as foolish as he looked.
Uncle Heber Murphy went to Kayenta with Bob to get 150 three year old ewes. They were gone almost three weeks and the weather was bad for most of that time. The snow was deep around Blanding and Monticello. Bob drove the sheep all the way on foot and he had no overshoes until he sent Uncle Heber into Monticello for some.
Uncle Heber was driving the car with all the camp outfit in it and he was supposed to hurry back and set up camp, but being a friendly soul and knowing so many Monticello people, well, he got to the place they had agreed on camping 2 a.m. in a blizzard. Bob had a fire going under a tree. He was too mad and hungry to freeze. Their relationship was below zero, and it never did get very high after that.
A Navajo Indian had helped Bob drive the sheep the first three days. They shared their tent with him, and he shared his lice with them. When they reached home they bathed outside and put their clothes in a tub of boiling water before coming inside.
I had my troubles too while they were gone. Annie was staying with me to herd the sheep. For three days there was a blizzard. I knew the country, the horse, and the sheep better. I knew the horse would go home if I let him and the sheep would go to the bed ground. I was afraid Annie would get lost. Riding was very difficult for me; I was about 6 months pregnant. Yes, 1928…that was a year for me to remember.
After Christmas I stayed with Mary in Moab; Jack was working at Indian Creek and was seldom home. She had an apartment over what was then the Post Office. I thought I would lay around awhile until I felt better, then I would go back to the sheep camp. The baby had other ideas. He was born Jan.16, 1929, just one month too soon. He got sick and also developed a hernia as Vee did. I would not recommend a premature baby to anyone. I had nothing to do with the naming of my two oldest children. Mary insisted on the name Robert, and Bob said no, William, so the baby got both. Robert William Muir. I thought it all so very funny, and I enjoyed their arguments. So did they.
When the baby was 2 weeks I went back to the sheep camp. It was in an impossible place up near Amasa Back and I had to ride horseback with my two children up over a rough trail. The snow was about a foot deep. We did not stay there long, but moved back down near Blue Hill.
Mary came to the camp to bring some groceries and I think she was worried about the baby. A storm came up snowing hard and drifting, so she had to stay the night. It was bitterly cold and by the time we made her bed down beside ours, the tent was full, but we were snug and sleeping soundly when suddenly something landed on top of us. There was a lot of commotion too. Bob struck a match and there was an old Navajo sheep standing right over us. However she got in the tent we did not know. It seemed to be fastened down tight. Mary woke up before the commotion started and she could hear something breathing right over her head. She thought it might be a bear (bears are not out that time of year) or some other wild animal. She did not know what to do so she reached up and touched it on bare skin. No wool was there. It was as startled as she was, so it jumped onto us. Bob put the sheep out and we all had a good laugh.
We all survived the deep snow and cold of 1929. March was not bad and we sheared the sheep the first part of April. Aunt Mame, (Mary Duncan) came to help with the cooking and tend the children while I was out with the sheep. Uncle Felix always helped with the shearing. He would shear only 100 sheep each day; if he got his hundred by 3 o’clock, that is when he stopped. Bob had learned to shear, and as he did everything, he sheared fast too. Archie (Sketer) Stocks was the other man who sheared that spring.
I herded the sheep and helped Aunt Mame as much as I could. I nursed my baby over three hours but one day I let the sheep get too far away and I was gone for six hours. When I returned Aunt Mame was walking the floor with the baby and they were both crying. The sheep never got that far away again.
Aunt Mame stayed with us until after the lambing. I always herded the ewes with the new born lambs. We had between 700 and 800 head of sheep in the herd. Some were Aunt Mame’s and about 150 belonged to Roy and Lee Larson.
We took our sheep to Dry Valley that summer. It rained almost every day, so the grass was almost to the horses knees and all the animals were fat. The lambs grow fast. There were hundreds of wild horses running back in the country beyond Hatch Wash. While we were camped by Jug Rock and Hatch Rock, we never tired of watching them.
We got a better price for our lambs that fall. Bob paid John Jackson $100 on the note, and bought a big black faced buck that was mean. I was scared of him and had to watch him all the time if I was around the sheep unless I was riding. We had some ewes that had some early lambs and I went to the shed of the corral. I couldn’t out run him to the fence, so I stood still and watched him. He backed up and made a run at me, but stopped just short of hitting me. The third time I knew he was not going to stop, so I stepped aside and a big ramboulet buck caught him and knocked him for a loop. I ran. Bob made a deal with Roy Larson to pasture our bucks and Lee Larson who lived on La Sal Creek took our mule to pasture. Bob planned on breaking him the coming summer. Things seemed to be going well for us and we hoped by the time Vee started to school we would have enough sheep so we could hire a sheep herder.
We had the sheep camp at Flat Pass. Bob went to the homestead every day to work on the corrals while I cared for the sheep. He had consigned the wool (that is an advance on the wool) – $350. The rest was to be paid when the wool was delivered at Thompson. He bought some lumber to make shearing pens, bought wool sacks, string to tie them, and new sheep shears.
We had $300 left in the bank when everything was ready to start the shearing. April 12, 1930 I packed the camp and Bob loaded it on the wagon. I helped him because he was sick and could hardly get around. He went on to our place, I kept the kids with me. I headed the sheep for home a little early because I was so worried about him. He had a high fever and was on the bed. I wanted to take him to the hospital then. He would not go. I set up the sheep camp outside in the yard and fixed a meal for the kids and me. I put the kids to bed in the camp. They never saw him again. He was so hot and I tried to cool him off by giving him plenty of water to drink. By then I knew he had typhoid fever.
The morning of April 13, 1930 Clarence Tangren came riding by and I asked him to get word to my folks that Bob was sick. He checked on the sheep. I never went near them that day. Early next morning one of my uncles came to take over the sheep and soon after the Doctor arrived. He would have been there sooner but he was out of town.
They made a bed in the back of the Doctor’s car to take Bob to the hospital. I followed in our car, a Maxwell Coup. I took the kids to Dad then went on to the hospital. Bob lived until 11 o’clock that night. April 14, 1930. He had walking typhoid pneumonia.
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