DONNA RUTH HANSEN WOODWARD
by
Donna Ruth Woodward
by
Donna Ruth Woodward
I was born January 27, 1950 in Boise, Ada, Idaho to Dean H Hansen and Ruth Mae Nelson. That was a special day for my parents, especially for my mother as I was born on her twenty-fourth birthday. I was the third child to come into the Hansen family. I had an older brother Ronald Dean and an older sister Ellen Jean. They were both born in Salt Lake City, Utah because mom’s parents felt like that was where mom was suppose to be when she had a baby, but my dad finally put his foot down and said that the rest of his children would be born at home or at least in Idaho where the family lived. I think he was probably right as we all managed to live through the experience.
At the time of my birth, my family was living in Dry Creek, the dry hills north of Boise, Idaho. One month before I was born, the home my family was living in finally got electricity hooked up to the house. My mom said, “it was a real surprise to see how dirty the walls in the house were from using coal oil lanterns.” For the next month she and dad scrubbed the walls so she could bring her new baby home to a clean house.
My mom commented in her life history that as a baby, “I slept a lot to the point that I wasn’t eating enough and they had to wake me to get me to eat more often.” Mom said, “I was very frail.” Judging from the size of me now, I might want to question that.
My father was farming while we lived in Dry Creek. Dry Creek was about ten or twelve miles out in the dry hills north of Boise. The roads leading into the area were all dirt which made traveling in the wet seasons quite hazardous. One Sunday as we were coming home from church in Boise our car got stuck in the mud going down hill. Dad finally gave up on trying to get the car going again and left mom and us kids in the car while he walked home about two miles and brought our team of horses, “Tom and Dick”, to pull us out. I can’t even imagine how dirty his suit must have been that day.
I was lucky to see part of both the old and the new world. All of dad’s farming while our family lived in Dry Creek was done with a team and horses. I can still remember when dad finally bought his first tractor. It was a “John Deere” and was quite funny looking compared to today’s tractors. It seemed like the work went a lot faster, but I can still remember the day the tractor got a flat tire and dad saying, “that a horse was more dependable.”
When Ellen, my older sister and I were 3 and 5 or about that age, mom had warned us not to go down and play by the bridge, because we might fall in the creek. Well, off we went one day and where did we end up, but at the bridge and there we played. We found this really neat ledge of cement along one side of the bridge and decided to scoot out along the edge of it. After we got out as far as we dare go, Ellen reminded me to be careful not to fall in the creek and I promptly lost my balance and fell in. As if falling in wasn’t bad enough she told me, “whatever you do, don’t go under the bridge, because there’s snakes under there.” I remember looking around me and seeing that there was no other way to get out of the creek but to go under the bridge. I thought, thanks Ellen for that information and I headed under the bridge, thinking that I was going to be dead any minute. Ellen in the mean time headed home and told mom that I had fallen in the creek. I can still hear my mom as she came out of the house running full speed, through a barbed wire fence and calling for me, scared to death that I was drown. I don’t remember how I got out of the creek but I know mom came to my rescue and the next thing I remember is being wrapped in a warm blanket and sitting on the kitchen counter feeling totally loved and safe. Ellen said, she was always jealous that I got all the attention that day when she was the one who really saved me by going for help. She’s probably right, but I learned a great lesson that day, always listen to mom because she seems to know things before they ever happened and to a three year old that was like a miracle.
We lived in Dry Creek until I was seven years old. I have many happy memories of living there. We were out and away from everybody, but we always had plenty to do. We played together a lot and were best friends to each other. Ron and Ellen and I used to sneak up into the hills around the fields where dad was hauling hay and spy on our hired help. Every time dad took a load of hay to the hay stack the guys that were left out in the field would just stand around and so we would tell our dad that we had caught them playing and boy, did we think we were smart. I’m sure our dad got a few laughs out of us.
One year a hired hand by the name of Milo Ball was working for us. Mom made lunch for all the hired hands in those days when the haying was being done. On this one particular day the hired hands had come in to eat their lunch at the house. Mom always had a large home cooked meal for them. It was probably more like a large dinner. Anyway, this one afternoon there was a skunk in the yard and Milo saw it from the kitchen window. He told us kids that it was a kitty and proceeded to go outside and call it and try and coax it to come to him. Of course all of us kids followed to my mother’s horror. I can still hear her calling us back into the house and warning Milo if the skunk sprayed him, he couldn’t come back in the house to eat.
We had an apple orchard down the road about one-fourth of a mile and every summer we would go down and pick green apples and eat them. Mom and dad warned us every year that we would get a stomach ache if we ate green apples, but we never did, and what great fun it was to be a kid then.
Dad milked cows while we lived in Dry Creek and every night it was Ron’s job to go out into the hills and bring the milk cows home. Dad didn’t have them fenced in usually so they roamed the surrounding hills close to home. Sometimes I would go and help Ron find the cows. This could take an hour or two some nights if you didn’t know where they were feeding at that time of the year. I remember sometimes being so tired by the time we found the cows that I didn’t think I could make it home and so Ron would have me grab old Nelly, Ellen cow by the tail and she would run and pull me home. It was really more like flying home. I bet dad wasn’t to happy about the cows running home because that meant that you wouldn’t get as much milk, and dad sold most of the milk to a dairy.
I remember having a wood burning stove and at night Ellen and I would go and grab our pajamas from the cold bedroom and run into the living room where the stove was to warm up our yellow PJs or long johns with a flap door in the back, so we could getting into them while they were all toasty warm. They looked like the old fashioned long underwear that the pioneers use to wear. I remember that many of our neighbors still only had outhouses and those who had electricity had very poor lighting with maybe one bulb in each room hanging from a long cord with a string to snap it on. Those who didn’t have electricity where still using kerosene lanterns
We moved into a rented home in Boise, Idaho the year I was in the first grade, 1956. That winter we lived on the foothills on northern Boise and were close enough to school to walk, which was a new adventure for us children, since in Dry Creek, our closest real neighbors were about five miles up the road. I remember how the Boise house sat on a hill and the front yard was higher than the back. When it snowed that year we rode our sleighs down the front driveway to the back of the house and then over a canal bridge and on pass our big red barn. What fun that was and there was no worry about cars coming because it was all behind the house. We spent a lot of time that year sleigh riding with the family.
A new chapter in my life began the end of May of 1957 when my family moved to Parma, Idaho. We lived in a basement home out in the county about seven miles east of Parma and about two and a half miles north of Notus, Idaho. While living there I attended the Notus schools, from second grade clear through high school. That statement is a little deceiving because schools were really one school as first grade through high school were all in the same building. My family attended church in Parma and we were in the Parma Ward. There were many fun times while we lived on the farm in Parma. First of all we had neighbors kids our age that were living close enough to us that if we really wanted to go and play, we could walk the distant, which occasionally we did. Not only that, but our cousins lived right next door to us, and there was even a neighbor across the street. We had a large shallow pond that was just west of our house and the first couple of years in the summer our family would go swimming in it. Ron, my oldest brother would often have a raft floating in the pond and we would float out into the middle and play like we were pirates. In the winter the pond would freeze over and then we would use it as an ice skating rink. I remember getting a pair of ice skates for Christmas one year. I had a cute little blue circular skirt and pretty red and white sweater that I would put on and I’d go down to the pond to skate. I thought I was so pretty and was so busy with trying to look pretty that I never did learn how to skate.
My mother was a hard worker. We were always busy with house and yard work. One of my favorite jobs as I got older, was picking strawberries and raspberries early in the morning. I would volunteer to do the job by myself because it was quite and I would ponder a lot of things as I worked. Another memory I have was picking asparagus with mom. We would walk along the ditch banks and hurt for the young tender shots. I don’t remember eating any, or canning any so mom and dad must have eaten most of it. Speaking of eating, everyone would eat corn on the cob when we were freezing corn. That was truly a treat for the whole family. We would literally have corn from ear to ear.
Going to Notus to school was a wonderful experience for me. Notus was a small town which was surrounded by farm land so there weren’t very many kids in each class. In fact there were only 25 students in my graduating class but because of this I had many opportunities to be involved in activities and leadership positions. I was one of the popular girls but then all of us were popular because our class was so small. It made for great fun and pleasant memories that will always be in my heart.
Brigham Young University was my next big educational experience. Wow, I never though I was smart enough to go to a university, let alone B.Y.U. I don’t know why I thought that because I graduated with a 3.5 grade point average and was a member of the National Honor Society. I guess I just thought that if you went to Notus High School that you didn’t know enough to go to some huge school where everyone was obviously smarter than you. While attending the university I majored in Clothing and Textiles. I figured that I could handle that since I had had sewing classes starting at ten years of age through the County 4-H Club, and my mothers help. Mom, use to tell me that even when I was a little girl, I always wanted to have a needle and thread and sew something. I really did enjoy sewing, but my first choice of a major was Art, but I figured if I had to make any money with that major, I would probably starve. My sewing skills have come in very handy throughout my life. I started sewing professionally when I was eighteen. I did this off and on at the first of my married life to help supplement our income. Much of what I learned about design paid off not only sewing professionally, but designing all my little girls dresses was really fun and allowed me to be creative. As my family was almost grown and gone, I had the chance to do some professional costuming. I once again found some real satisfaction in being creative, but I was still content to stay home and be a wife and a mother than accepting a full time job.
Better than going to B.Y.U. to continue my education was dating all the cute boys that attended B.Y.U.. I never lacked for dates. It seems like I was busy dating almost every weekend. Some days I would have more than one date which sometimes made for an interesting and tense afternoon and evening. The big question was always, “will I get home in time before the next date comes to pick me up and not let the other guy know that I had another date.”
I always loved the fall of the year and what better time to meet the guy you’re going to marry. That is just what happen in September of 1970. I met Duane and knew the minute that our eyes met that there was something special about him. We met in a music class at B.Y.U. It was a large class room that would hold about two hundred and fifty students. I had come early to class and was sitting all alone when Duane came up to me and asked if the seat next to me was taken. Without looking up, I said, “I’ve been saving it for you! What took you so long?” When I finally looked up, I nearly died because I usually wouldn’t have said that, and dad was so cute that I wanted to die. Duane says that I was just trying to hook him and that he didn’t have a chance. We went on our first date that night and were married two and a half months latter.
Christmas was a great time to get married, but neither Duane nor I had a job, since we were both going to school full time. Needless to say, we didn’t buy Christmas presents for each other since our budget was extremely limited. Duane had some money that he had in savings from his job in Alaska, where he had just come from before school started that fall and that is what we lived on until I finally got a job as a waitress. Duane traded in his new car for a new mobile home for us to live in. Grandpa Woodward, (George), gave us an old station wagon to help us out. Let me tell you we were quit the classy newly weds that night we got married in that old station wagon with “Just Married” painted all over the car. We couldn’t afford a honeymoon so we just drove to Provo and stayed in our new trailer. The neighbors next door thought someone had played a joke on us with the “Just Married” written all over the car. You see, we had just got the trailer moved into the trailer park that afternoon that we got married and we had been working all day to get everything hooked up before the wedding.
We settled into a very happy married life. As I mentioned before, neither Duane or I had a job. I got a job first as a waitress. Duane had trouble finding a job because he had been overpaid for the Provo area. He had been living and working in Alaska before we met so no one thought he would work for them very long because of money he had made. They were of course wrong, he just wanted work. He had decided when he came back from Alaska that he was staying in Utah to live closer to his parents. He wanted to raise his family around them so that they could enjoy their grand kids. Duane finally took a job selling “Fuller Brush” products. That was pretty discouraging to him, but it was work and he gave it his all. About nine months after we were married, Duane went to a priesthood meeting and they told the brothers that if they couldn’t fine work to make work. Duane took that to heart and not to long after that we started a film pick up and delivery business. By that time I was working for the Singer Sewing Machine Company, teaching sewing lessons, which I really enjoyed, but Duane needed me at home to answer the phone while he was out picking up film to have it developed or returning it to it’s owner, so I quite and came home to help with our new business. I remember one of the first phone calls I received. The caller wanted to know what the film speed was. Well, I was clueless, but I remembered seeing something on the film box about the speed. I remember going into the bedroom where we had the film and frantically trying to find out what the speed of the film was. When I finally found it, I ran back to the phone to give the caller the answer and was wringing wet from being so frantic, and shaking like a leaf. It’s good the caller couldn’t see me, or I’m sure that they would have wondered about giving us their business. Boy, if that wasn’t learning by fire! That first little while, I would panic every time the phone rang for fear that someone would ask me something I didn’t know, and I would lose their business. Needless to say we were blessed with that little business to be able to make a living and learn from the experience to prepare us for future businesses that we would have. What a wise and kind Father in Heaven to give us the necessary experiences that we would need!
We bought a boat about four months after we were married and almost everyday that first summer we were out on Utah Lake boating. Since both of us were novice at boating, we had some pretty funny experiences. One of those was trying to learn to water ski. Duane decided to try it first. I was going to be the driver. First of all it took him about 45 minutes to get the water skis on and into the water. We didn’t know that it was easier to put them on in the water, but it made for a silly experience. When he finally got out in the water, with his ski’s on, he told me to take off or to pull him out of the water. I dutifully took off, but then thought that I was going to fast so I slowed to almost a stop and dad sunk. We have both laughed about that for years. As for me skiing, it took me a whole summer to finally get out of the water and up on the skis. I must have dredge all of Utah Lake that summer with my back end.
After a year and a half, we had our first baby, Shane. Duane called him a poly-wog because he had a big head when her was born compared to his body. He didn’t know that was how most babies look when they are first born. Shane was bald on top and had red cat fur around the rest of his head, but to me he was beautiful, and what a cute little boy he was. He had copper red hair and a sprinkling of freckles as he got older and he was my little helper.
Rebecca, our second child came and was gone in less than an hour. I had spent three months in bed trying to keep from hemorrhaging to death before she was born. Rebecca was born at five month into my pregnancy and weighed one pound and ½ ounce. She was dying the minute she was born from her lungs not being developed enough to live. Now a days they can save babies that pre-mature. Duane never got to see Rebecca, but I did before they rush her to the intensive care nursery. She was about ten inches long, had blond hair, delicate hands and fingers, and a long thin face like many in the Hansen family.
From my journal, “again the Lord saw me though great sorrow when our tiny Rebecca was born and died shortly after birth. I remember the day she was buried when we put Shane to bed that night he cried out for us to come to him, that Rebecca was there and wanted us to know she loved us. There was another time when Shane was playing in his room and it sounded like he was talking and playing with someone. When we went into his room there was no one there and we asked him what he was doing. He said, “I’m play with Becca.” We will never know, but at the age of 2 ½, I am not one to doubt the closeness he had with the Lord.
The Lord has given me special blessings too. About a month after Rebecca’s death, Duane and I had a temple assignment. I remember I had been busy that day and as I went to the temple my troubled mind had relaxed. As I went to enter the dressing room at the Provo temple an over whelming spirit came over me that said, “Rebecca is here.” My heart seemed to soar and as I passed the partition into the room I saw by the mirror a tall young lady and I knew it was Rebecca. The floor seemed to almost rise and everything around me seemed to become refined and for a minute I saw no one else in the room. She reached out and touched my right arm and communicated to me that she loved me. There are things that I still do not understand about that which transpired but I know that the Lord is aware of our needs and he is willing if we will first learn how to listen. The veil can be parted to all who try to make them selves worthy to partake of the influence on the other side. I pray that I may try harder to keep in tune so that I may have many more experiences to enrich my earthly life, and pray that whoever may read this may know trough the spirit that which I write is true.”
About two years after Rebecca died, we were blessed with another daughter, Jennifer Donna. We called her Jenny Jo, instead of Jennifer Donna and what a fun little girl she was. My cousin, Joe Nelson was the one who first called her Jenny Jo after him and it stuck. She was beautiful and everyone use to stop to tell us how beautiful she was. Jennifer was always going a hundred miles an hour. As a little girl she had two boys that were her friends and they would catch grasshoppers most of the summer and I understand that she actually ate one. She loved to go camping and see “bugs rabbits” as she called them.
Four years later came our Baby Huey, Jason. Jason was the delightful little boy that everyone wants, because he was just so pleasant, and huggable. When Jason was born he was so calm, even the doctor commented on it. Peace seemed to surround him. He followed Duane wherever he went and tried to do what his dad was doing. We originally called him Zachary, but on remembering what our mothers had said about the name, we reconsidered. My mom said, “I think I can get use to that name,” and Duane mom said, “I think you’d better pray about it!” Needless to say we brought him home from the hospital and looked at our little redhead and said maybe we should call him Jason, and so Jason it was, but his nick name to this day is Zach, and it fits him.
While I was expecting Jason, Duane asked me one day what I thought I would have. A girl, or a boy? I told him about a strong impression that I had had “we would have a boy to fulfill our patriarchal blessings, that we would have sons and daughters, and also that if we choose to have more children that I would be greatly blessed.” Three months later, I was surprised to find out that I was expecting again. This time it was with twins, the third set of four between me and three of my sisters. Kimberly and Kenneth were born a month early weighing in at about five pounds or less. Kimberly was born first and Kenneth second and he was the smaller of the two. Now he’s the biggest. There were several times during their growing up years that I thought I had misunderstand the “greatly blessed” part of that impression and that it really was “greatly stressed.” Whatever Kimberly and Kenneth couldn’t figure out on their own, Jason taught them and visa-versa. Needless to say there were never very many dull moments with the five kids growing up. I was always busy with all the activities that a mother has raising a family. From my journal I have taken one of the typical day entries.
April 9th 1984
“Today has been one of those days everyone has but wants to forget. To begin with Jennifer was crying on and off all night long. I slept with her for about 2 ½ hours and finally came back to bed about 3:00 a.m. At four o’clock she came crying into our room that someone had hit her in her shoulder. (She sleeps in a room all by herself) She had diaherria and a bad stomach ache before while I was sleeping with her. Anyway I got her back to bed and gave her Tylenol and she finally went to sleep and slept good until about eight a.m.. She laid on the couch all day long without hardly moving except when she thought she was going to throw up.
After I got all my weekend cleaning done, I started working on drafting three patterns for Jennifer’s class play. That took me about four hours to draw, cut out and make up two costumes and then write all the instructions for other parents on how to put them together. While I worked on the costumes I received ten phone calls. I thought I would go nuts trying to get everything done, and to top it off I was suppose to get together with a lady in the ward to decide about the Homemaking dinner. Neither one of us can go to the dinner because we are taking CPR training as encouraged for every member in our stake to be prepared for an emergency.
While I worked on all my different projects, took care of Jennifer, answered the phone, planned decorations and etc, etc, Jason, Kimberly and Kenneth fixed the bedroom, by tearing out all seven days of diapers to the middle of the room and proceed to dump all the dresser drawers of clothes on the top of the sole and then stirred tem all up. Goy was I mad! It took me 35 minute to clean the mess up. I thought what else could those stinkers do, which I shouldn’t have thought because not to long after someone left the bathroom door open and the three little kids went in with their toy buckets and bailed water out of the toilet onto themselves and the floor and into a drawer. That wasn’t enough, oh no then they pulled out all the bath towel to soak up the two inches of water all over the floor. What a mess and I was only down stairs ding the last load of wash for the day for ten minutes.
“Now all of this wouldn’t have been so bad but as I went to finish this last load, a towel that had been washed with something red before turned all my white under clothes pink. I’m sure Duane and Shane are going to appreciate that, and last but not least my only good pants got a whole in the knee.
“Thank heaven that day is over. Jennifer is sleeping on the floor by our bed. Jason screamed for about ½ hour before he went to sleep and after I cut out two blouses and a shirt, made pudding and talked to Duane all is quite. So good night and wish me luck!”
Oh, there were many good times and times that we laughed until it hurt. One day when Shane was about four, someone asked him where he got his red hair. He told them from my cat. They then asked him what color is your cat? Shane’s answer was a hoot. He said, “Black,” which was true at the time.
December 23rd, 1984
If my life is judged according to what I have written in my journal I’m afraid I’ll never make it. So many things have happen that are worth writing down, but by the time the days activities are over, I am dead tired.
Today as I looked back over what has occurred since last April, I am saddened to thing that I found neither the time nor the desire to write a few remarks of my feelings. This last winter until Duane’s graduation was really hard on me emotionally. I remember during May I wasn’t sure I could go on one more moment with no money to live on, only barely surviving. Duane breaking his elbow and having pneumonia twice, Jennifer having pneumonia, Jason having an ear infection every three weeks with the rest of us filling in the gags, was almost too much. I must admit, I was suffering from some depression, enough so that I went into the doctor and got some antidepressants to help, which really did help. I am trying to slowly get off of them now, but what a grump I am.
Duane did graduate in August. It was a very eventful day. I found it hard at time to hold back the tears of joy I felt for Duane, knowing what it meant to him to finally graduate from any school.
We went through Duane’s second elbow surgery in September which was much easier on all of us. Duane had the flu for about three weeks after that and then went back to work the first part of October for Murdock International. It was an adjustment for me to have Duane gone and to have all the little kids to take everywhere I went. What a job!! Needless to say I go as little as possible, because it is such a job to keep the three of them rounded up and heading in the right direction.
Some days the three of them (Jason, Kimberly and Kenneth) are more than I can endure. Jason and his two side kicks can cause more destruction than anyone I know, and in just minutes. This last week alone they have torn out all my sewing equipment twice and thrown in on the floor, which is a major mess. They have plugged the iron in and left it sitting on the carpet to burn. ( I caught that one soon enough), flooded the bathroom with toilet water and toilet paper and then they sprinkled the entire basement heavily with Ajax two times. These are only the major things they have done, this doesn’t include eating the top of the nut breads off that I made for the Bishopbric open house, pouring cereal all over the house or buttering the floor so it would taste good!
July 25th, 2002
Dad and I really had a great adventure this week. Last week we went to a garage sale. Well, we found and bought a couple of rubber rafts so that we could float down the Snake River at Mack’s Inn.
First of all the raft we took only really could hold one adult and maybe a small child. Never the less dad and I went together. Oh yes, we both fit in, but just barely and then it was crowded. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but you know dad. We had to have something for every emergency, plus lunch, plus dad’s fishing pole and fishing equipment. After finally getting the raft pumped up, dad told me to get in first and to sit on the edge until he got in. Bad idea! I immediately fell backwards into the water, and of course there were about 20 people there watching. I’m sure they were wondering about these two old people trying to ride the river. Never the less we both made it in and headed down the river. We hit the first shallow part and had to stop and get out and pump the raft up some more as we did not have enough air in it to get past this part of the river. In the mean time everyone that was going down the river at the same time as us disappeared around the bend of the river never to be seen again. We walked the river with our raft in hand until the water got deep enough to sustain two old fat people. Again, dad had me get in first and again I fell in the river backwards. At least this time I didn’t have a cheering crowd. We finally both got in the raft and situated when suddenly I heard this funny sound. At first I thought there was a spring bubbling near by, but we soon realized that we had a nice size hole in the side of the raft. For the next 3 ½ hours it was my job to keep my finger over the hole. Dad was then left to row. Of course the two oars that we were to use, were two different sizes, and if you don’t think that was a challenge? We made it to within a mile of the bridge when we finally gave out and jumped ship and walked the rest of the way to Mack’s Inn. We had a great time and we laughed a lot. By the way on the way down the river, we hit a few rocks and several trees, but that was minor. When we got home we went to repair the hole that I held my finger in for 3 ½ hours and to our surprise there was a seven inch tear in the bottom of the raft. It’s a wonder we even made it down the river, but we were ready to try it again the next weekend.
Spiritual Experiences
The Lord has greatly blessed me with many spiritual blessings some of which I can not recall very well anymore but those that I can I wish to write. When I was 13 or 14, Satan attempted to forcibly take over my body by physically picking up my body and trying to get me to harm my mother one night when my father wasn’t home. I remember crying all the way down the hall to my mother’s room. She awoke and told me to come and sleep with her. I asked her to hold my hands so I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. Having a wise mother she realizes what was happening. She called the Bishop at two in the morning and they administered to me casting out the evil spirit that was trying to over take my body. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized what had really possessed me that night, but I testify to you that Satan is a real being and he wishes to destroy all that is lovely and beautiful and I would advise you to stand in holy places that you may always have the Lord for a protection.
The lord has blessed me with many experiences to prepare me for many spiritual blessings. I now consider this experience as a great blessing that I may know because of a spirit of discernment that which is good and bad. When Shane was a baby there was someone who came and watched what was happening at least two times. I remember glancing over my shoulder and seeing a man watching Shane and myself. I was not afraid but rather calm and I have often wondered whom the kind man was who was watching over a learning mother and tiny son, and someday I know I will know.
Woodward FamilyCast