Arthur Howard Paskett

Arthur Howard Paskett was born 14 April 1925 in Grouse Creek Utah. He was the third son of Sidney Paskett and Alice Myrtle (Johnson) Paskett.  Art’s birth certificate is filled out in the hand writing of Philip Andrew Paskett (Grandfather).

Some of the experiences that I relate on the following pages are put here for my posterity to benefit from.  I do not want anyone to think that I recorded them here for personal recognition.

I lived in Grouse Creek until it was time to start High School.  In 1939 our family moved to Montello, Nevada.  Montello was near the ranches where my father was the cattle foreman.  None of the family had the opportunity to attend High School until then.

Parley, Sidney, Arnold & Arthur Paskett

When School started in Montello, I didn’t know anyone so I sat at my desk and did the work that I was assigned.  At the end of the first six weeks period, I was first on the honor role.  I thought that felt pretty good, so I worked hard and stayed there most of the time.  I graduated from Montello High School as valedictorian of the class of 1943.

I lettered four years on the basketball team.  We went to the State Tournament twice but were eliminated in the first round by the same team both years.  We didn’t have a tournament when I was a senior.  The tournament was cancelled because of World War II.  We had a good basketball team that year and had beaten every team in our division.

Winecup 1942 – Sidney, Parley, Arnold & Arthur Paskett

In 1944 I was married to Pauline King.  We were blessed with three children:  Frances Millicent Olsen, Linda Rae Ammer, and Howard Arthur Paskett.
I was drafted into the Army in February of 1945.  I attained the rank of T-3, the same as a Buck Sgt, working in the 4th General Hospital Admission Office in Manila, Philippine Islands.  I returned home just before Christmas in 1946.  President Truman saved my life when he ordered the atomic bomb attack on Japan.  We were scheduled to be the second wave on the main Island of Japan.

After returning from the Army, I worked with Dad on the George Ralph Ranch in Clover Valley, Nevada for two seasons then bought a small farm on the Snake River north of Buhl, Idaho.  My family and I lived on this place for about four years, and then moved to Contact, Nevada where we lived for about two years.

Grouse Creek is a good place for young people to grow up.  There were seventeen of us in the first grade the year that I started school.

There are plenty of hills to play on both winter and summer.  In the winter, the hills are all covered with snow.  We made trails for sleighing.  Sometimes we ventured onto the roads when the snow was deep enough for sleighing.

Glen Paskett, Francis Barlow, Arthur Paskett, Merton Paskett, Bill Shaw & Clifford Paskett

My father always made sure that I had a good horse to ride.  Dad owned a registered thoroughbred stallion.  This stallion sired some of the yearlings that Dad let me break and ride for the winter.  I didn’t come up short in most of the horse races.  Most of the boys in Grouse Creek had a horse to ride.

Wayne Tanner and I were riding near Buckskin Springs one day, when we jumped a small herd of deer.  There was a new cover of snow on the ground so it was easy to follow the deer’s tracks.  We rode up to the trails where the deer had gone and on top of the deer tracks, there was a large cat track.  We followed the cat track for about 100 yards where it disappeared into a patch of sage brush.  The sagebrush patch was not very large, so we rode around it and looked for the cat tracks to show where the animal had moved on around the mountain.  We didn’t find any tracks coming out of the brush so we decided the cat was still hiding there.  We also decided from the size of the track that the cat had to be a cougar.  The only gun that we had was a 22 rifle, so we swallowed our pride and rode on to let the cougar live for another day.
The winter of 1937–38, Dad gave me a 5-year-old gelding to ride.  His mother was nearly a purebred Hamiltonian and our thoroughbred stallion was the sire.  In the early fall, I was riding this gelding near Paskett Spring on the east side of the Grouse Creek Valley.  As I was riding down a long ridge, I met Herb Tanner and his nephew, Merlin.  Herb was after a bay gelding sired by the same stallion.  He told me that he had tried to take them to the corral several times with no success.  The horses would always cut behind him and he would lose them in the trees.  He wanted me to ride behind him and not let the horses pull their old trick on him.  The cedar trees are thick in that area and it is not easy to ride a horse at full speed through them.  I enjoyed the feeling of wind in my face and the thrill of running horses, so I was quick to tell Herb that I would be glad to help him.  We soon spotted the horses and the race was on.  Herb was riding along side the leaders and I was making sure that none of them cut behind him.  Soon they were out of the trees and onto the flat.  This was where Herb was to outrun the leader and turn them toward the Ranch.  Herb was well mounted but he was a large man and his horse was getting a little tired and he couldn’t turn them.  I gave my horse his head and urged him on.  I was like a fly on his back (about 12 years old) and my horse quickly surged to the lead and turned the horses toward the corral.  Herb was really happy to see his beautiful bay gelding go thru the gate.

Every spring I would go to the UC (Utah Construction Co.) where Dad worked.  My brother Arnold and I would herd the horses so they could feed and the rest of the cowboys would ride the range and run the horses they found into the “Day Herd”.  At night, the horses were put in a large corral.  The corrals that we held them in at night had plenty of fresh water in them so the horses could have all they wanted to drink.

One spring at the Jim Thomas horse camp, we were gathering the horses on the South Side.  We had about 200 horses in the Day-herd and had them safe in the South Spring corral.  A storm moved in during the night and there was quite a discussion about whether or not to take the Day-herd out of the corral that day.  Jim Thomas was foreman over the horses and he wanted very much to make one more drive no matter what the weather was.  His decision prevailed, so we saddled our horses early in the morning and headed south on the range.  The place where we were to hold the day-herd was a large mountain side, probably as high as any in the area.  The mountain was free from trees except near the top where there were a few cedars and some pinion pines.  There were not enough trees to interfere with riding your horse or seeing the horses.  The main problem we had was that the horses were restless and did not want to stop and feed on the tall grass that was available.  It was a cold stormy day and layers of fog crept over the mountain side.  At times it was hard to see the horses we were supposed to be watching.  Late in the day when the rest of the cowboys were about to appear with the days gathering, a heavy cloud rolled in and covered the whole area where we were.  The horses had been trying to escape over a ‘saddle’ (a low area between two mountains) near the side I was watching.  I immediately rode to that point and sure enough horses were strung out down the ridge leaving on a high trot.  I went as fast as I could get Old Brandy, my faithful mount, to go down an adjoining ridge.  Soon we obtained the lead and the horses were halted from their quest for freedom.  There must have been 150 head in the bunch.  I started them back up the mountain to where we were supposed to be holding them.  They went over the wrong pass and were headed for freedom again.  This time my horse was winded and there was nothing that I could do to stop them.  I sat there helpless, watching the horses move briskly along the mountain side when my heart leaped for joy.  Dad and the rest of the cowboys appeared on the horizon and met the horses face to face.  We lost nearly 50 head that day but Jim took the blame for taking them out of the corral.  He said that we did the best we could under the circumstances.  I was ready to hang up my saddle and bridle that day.  We were all cold and wet.  If we do all we can, the Lord seems to find a way to help us succeed.

Arnold and I had many good experiences working together with the cowboys.

When I first started spending summers with my father (On the ranches and on the range), he started teaching me the cattle business.  He wanted me to be able to be a top hand when I grew up, if it was necessary for me to make a living in the same business that he was in.  He taught me how to use a sea grass rope, and also a rawhide rope.  It is very hard to throw a rawhide rope overhand but I practiced enough to learn how to accomplish the art,

One summer he left me with two cowboys that were breaking horses and gave me a two year old gelding to break.

In the fall when he was working cattle, he took me through the herd and told me how to identify a two year old as opposed to a yearling.  You can judge the age of cattle by the length of their tail, up to about three years when the tail is full length.  They sold steers at two.  He taught me how to identify an old cow that would be ready to be culled out of the herd.  We also had to be able to pick out a barren cow, one that would not calve.  After he taught me all of these things, he mounted me on a good cow horse and let me help do the work.  With most of dad’s horses, all you had to do was start the cow out of the herd and hang on.  Old Banjo was one of the best.

The UC had ranches near Bakersfield, California and we shipped the old cows, by train to California.  We had about 200 head to load out of Tacoma, Nevada.  In the early days of the west, Tacoma was the largest rail shipping point in the west.  When we were saddling up ready for work that morning, dad led out his top horse, Joker, for me to ride.  He said “I want you to ride the best horse I have had“.  Joker’s feet and legs had ring bone and splints on them and he was not able to move around on the hard ground.  Dad sent him to California with the cows so he would have sandy ground to walk on the rest of his life. You could control Joker with your reins hung over one finger.  He was the best cow horse I have ever ridden.  I was just a boy then and I have never put my saddle on a better horse.

When I was thirteen years of age, I rode with the Cow Wagon until haying time, around the 5th of July.  At that time, I went to the HD Ranch to work for Sherman Lund Raking hay.  I had practiced many hours learning to throw a rope.  You had to either throw overhand or just pitch the loop so you would not stir the cattle up.  I thought that I had practiced sufficiently to be able to catch my share of calves. As I remember, the cowboys that summer were: Dad (Forman), John Kincaid, Ben Jergins, Jigs (Loyal Boyce), Charlie Parks, and Ray Roberts.  Dad would let me take my turn roping and when he would ask the others to rope, they would say, “Oh let the kid rope”.  Needless to say, I had plenty of practice roping that summer.  By the end of the summer, I could keep the men busy at the fire branding etc.

We were camped at the spring near the old Delno Mine.  The first day we rounded up the cattle on Delno Mountain, I was near the top of the mountain following the wild horse trails toward the spring where we would round up the cattle.  As I was passing through a series of slide rock, coming to meet me were three mustang studs.  They were about two or three year olds.  I took my rope off the saddle and built a loop. I was riding old Smutt, ‘A tall grey horse that was used to run horses’.  We were closing the gap between us very fast and to my surprise, the mustangs just kept walking towards me.  When we got real close, the horses moved off the trail and stood in the rocks a few feet above the trail.  I looked at the one nearest me and thought how easy it would be to throw a loop around his neck; then I looked at the rocks all around and knew what I would be in for if I threw that loop. I used my better judgment that day, put my rope away and rode on down the trail.  The young studs just got back on the trail and walked on around the mountain.  After all, what would a thirteen-year-old boy do with a wild horse on the end of a rope in a pile of slide rock?

It was the summer of 1942 and the cow wagon was camped at the 9 mile field, just 9 miles north of the HD Ranch.  It was time to move camp.  My father decided that it was time for me to learn to drive four horses on the bed wagon.  When he handed me the four lines, I was scared to death.  I had driven a lot of teams but never four.  I swallowed my fear and proceeded with the task at hand.  The horses responded beautifully and we made the trip without incident.

In the spring of 1944 we were at the HD Ranch dehorning yearlings.  There were about 600 yearlings in the bunch to run through the chute and dehorn.  We took care of about 400 the first day.  That evening, all of the cowboys went to town and returned with a few bottles of whiskey.  The next morning when we went to work, all of the men except me were tipping the bottle.  In the middle of the morning, a calf escaped through the chute without losing his horns.  I had my horse nearby all saddled and ready to go.   I stepped on my horse and roped the calf and dehorned him.  When I was nearly back to the corral, another calf came out and the men yelled “Catch him Art”.  This process was repeated several times and my horse was getting tired so I just let the calf go and returned to the corral.  My fellow workers were letting the calves out and betting as to whether or not I would catch them.  I don’t recall the results of my roping skill.  By noon all of the cowboys were overcome by the effects of whiskey and the Ranch boss, Bob Wright and his two sons helped me finish dehorning the yearlings.

Later that spring, I was given the responsibility of bringing the cattle off the desert, which extended south of Montello, Nevada to a few miles south of highway 40 just west of Windover, Utah.  The young men that were to help were about the same age as me.  We all learned a lot that spring.  Dad had left the UC and we had a new boss to deal with.  He had his own way to handle cattle and it was not the same as my father had taught me.  One day we pushed about 300 cows and calves past the Gamble Ranch.  There was water for the cattle to drink so we let them have all of the water that they wanted and matched as many cows as we could with their calves.  All of those that were left, we let go back down the trails to find their calf or mother. We rode into the ranch and unsaddled our horses.  Sure enough our new boss came driving over to where I was unsaddling my horse.  He asked me if I mothered them up before I let them in to water and I replied in the negative.  I let them water, then find their calves and those that didn’t match; we turned loose to go back where we picked them up.  He had seen those that we turned loose going back down the trail.  He said, “Get in the truck with me and I will show you where you made your mistake“.  He drove back out on the road and turned toward the next ranch.  There were cows and calves lying contented all the way to the Twelve Mile Ranch.  He Said “Well I guess they are alright”.  He wanted me to mother them up and then let them in for water.  I had been taught to let the cows drink and they will come back and get their calves.  The cows that don’t have a calf and the calves that don’t have a mother, you turn loose and they will go back to the last place they were together.

We managed to move about 3,000 cows and calves off the desert and into the summer range without losing calves all along the way.

We were off the desert and pushing the cattle up toward the summer range, when Ed Owens, our new boss, stopped by and told us that he wanted us to put some cattle up division canyon.  We had to get up at3:00 AM to make the drive in one day.  If we didn’t do it in one day, the cattle would just come back when we let them go at night.  We got up early and made the drive.

After we left the cattle, we were near the top of Delno Mountain.  Several bunches of mustangs were on the ridges below us.  Al Vogle said that he had never been close to a herd of mustangs.  I told Al to come with me and I would put him right in the middle of the wild horses.  Al followed close behind as we circled the mountain until the horses were right below us.  The cedar trees hid us from view to the mustangs.  I said, “Come on Al”, as I spurred my horse on.  Within seconds wild horses surrounded me.  I could not stop my faithful mount and off the side of the mountain and into the canyon below we went. It was all I could do to stay in the saddle.  When I finally got my horse stopped, I looked around and Al was not in sight.  I rode back out of the canyon and spotted Al three or four miles down toward the Ranch.  When I arrived at the Ranch, I asked Al if he saw the horses and he said, “No, I didn’t see them”.

I started the winter of 1944 and 45 at the Eccles Ranch.  It was my job to find any cattle that were still on the summer range.  Every day I would ride and search the surrounding area for cattle.  As I was riding down through the cedar trees east of Rock Springs, I came upon fresh horse tracks.  The further I rode, the fresher the signs became.  Soon I could see horses scattered out feeding.  I quickly stepped off my horse and stood close to Old Dan’s shoulder.  I led Dan a few steps and stopped. I kept repeating this action until I was within a few feet of some of the horses.  I looked at all of the horses and picked one that I would like to put my saddle on.  I quickly rose into the saddle and mustangs went south in one mass.  The gray stallion threw his tail straight in the air and never looked back.  He was running full steam as long as he was in view.  I never even got close enough to spill a loop.  If I hadn’t been so choosy, maybe I could have tried to catch the closest one to me.

It was early in the summer of 1944.  The Utah Construction Company had purchased several ranches from the Week’s family in Clover Valley, south of Wells, Nevada.  We had trailed a small herd of cattle to one of the fields acquired in the Weeks purchase.  It was late evening and we could hardly see the cattle.  Most of the cows were nurturing a small calf.  When we had pushed most of the herd through the gate, several calves were the last to go.  All of us were off our horses with rope in hand so none of the calves could escape and scamper back up the trail.  All of us wore the regular cowboy paraphernalia, boots, spurs, and chaps.  A young calf whirled and ran for all he was worth toward our line of defense.  I ran toward the calf full speed, whirling my rope as I ran.  As I threw the loop as far as I could, I stubbed my toe on a brush and fell flat on my face.  I did manage to hold on to the knot in the end of my rope.  As I hit the ground, the calf hit the end of the rope.  I had placed the loop right around his neck.

These are just a few of life’s experiences that come to my mind.

A few years after I returned home from the Army, I decided it was time for me to do something with my life.  There was an Advertisement in the Salt Lake paper for a correspondence course to learn how to repair televisions.  I ordered the course and after completing it, I was able to obtain a job in Ogden, Utah.  I had studied all about electronic theory but I didn’t even know what a resistor or a condenser looked like.  The first morning I went to work in the TV repair shop, Ralph handed me a transformer and said “Put this fly back in that television right there and I will be back in a few minutes“.   Ralph returned in about an hour and asked if I had completed the job.  Perspiration was running from my forehead and I didn’t even know how to start the job.  Ralph was very good about it and sat down and taught me how to do the work.  A few days later, Ralph handed me a small radio and said “Repair this”.  The blank look on my face told him that I didn’t know anything about a radio.  Ralph gave me a short lesson on radio repair and I was on my own from there.

I owe my whole carrier in electronics to Ralph Frasier.  He taught me how to trouble shoot and find the problems in the units and how to repair them after I had found the problem.

After I had worked in television and radio for about a year, I was able to obtain a job in the radio shop at Hill Air Force Base.  I started working control boxes and small hand held radios.  From that, I advanced into repairing UHF radios.

I came to work one afternoon and there was a small one engine airplane sitting in front of the shop.   Two of us were working swing shift on UHF radios.  I was informed that this airplane was the personal airplane of the Commanding General of HILL AFB and the Hf radio would not work.  I was to have it repaired by the end of shift that day.

I asked if there was any information available.  The answer was in the negative.  I turned the radio on and turned the switch to change channels.  It moved some, but didn’t come up to the right frequency so I removed the radio from the airplane and took it into the shop where we had good lights to make a visual check on the system.  Sure enough, a wafer switch contact was broken so that the channeling system didn’t work properly.  I obtained a good contact from another wafer switch and replaced the defective contact.  The repair was completed in about two hour’s time.

On another occasion, a B 58 Bomber crashed into the Great Salt Lake.  A team of Air Force personnel was pulling the pieces out of the Lake and putting the airplane together in one of the hangers at Hill AFB. One of the hand held radios they were using stopped working.  They brought it to our shop to see if we could repair it.  It was just before lunch time.  Norm (My boss) handed the radio to me and said, “They need it back right after lunch”.  There was no information on this radio either.  I turned it on and there was nothing coming from the speaker.  I looked at the front panel for the squelch control.  I turned the control maximum both ways.  Not a sound.  Could it be that the squelch control tube had gone bad?  I pulled the cover off the radio and located the tube.  It was a small tube, the same one that we used in some of the small radios that we repaired.  I replaced the tube and in came the background noise.  The radio was ready for use.

While I was working at Hill Air Force Base in the radio shop, I came to work one morning and an ARC-34 that I had repaired a few days before was sitting on my bench.  My boss (Norm) asked me to recheck the radio because it would not work in the Airplane.  I checked it over and everything seemed to be as required, so I passed it by inspection and it went back to the line.

The next morning when I came in, Norm asked if the line Forman could come and watch me check the radio.  I told him that would be fine.  Later in the day, George Ballingham walked through the door and up to Norm’s desk.  Norm said, “The radio was worked right over there.  Art will check it for you”.  George walked over to my workbench and said, “Hello Art, did you work this radio”.  I replied, “Yes I did”. George said, “I’ll go back and check the airplane”.  He found a loose ground wire in the airplane.  It made me feel good that George had that much confidence in my work and was not afraid to show it.

While I was working in the radio repair shop at Hill Air Force Base, I was sent to the Air Force Academy at Colorado Springs to order parts to modify the recording system that the Air Force Band used.  The equipment was monaural and they wanted it modified to be stereo.  The AMPEX dealer in Colorado Springs was very cooperative and placed $2,000.00 worth of parts on order to complete the modification. When the parts came in, Glen Polson and I went to Colorado Springs to do the work.  We assembled another amplifier for the second side of the stereo and separated the mike input panel so both sides could be controlled separately.  When it was completed, you could sit at the back of the auditorium, shut your eyes, and you would swear the band was on the stage playing.  The Air Force Band used this system for all of their recordings.

Another part of this modification was to supply an intercom for the band leader to be able to talk to the person controlling the recording equipment.  The recording system was in a room below the stage and out of sight from the band leader.  Glen and I brought with us the plans and parts to build an intercom.  We assembled all of the parts and turned it on for trial.  All we heard was a loud squeal.  It was time for lunch so we decided to eat lunch and think about our problem.  My sandwich was wrapped in aluminum foil and when I was unwrapping the sandwich, the thought came to me; we were getting feedback from the audio transformer in the intercom.  I covered the transformer with the foil and tucked the edges in neatly.  Sure enough, this was all we needed for the system to work.

Some of you will remember when the Minuteman Missile was mounted on a railroad flat car and was designed to be launched from the train.  Our shop at Hill Field was assigned to support the communications equipment on this train.  I came to work one morning and was informed that Glen Polson and I were to take an ARC 27 to the train that was in Garrison, Montana.  We were taken to Salt Lake City where we boarded an airplane headed for Helena, Montana.  From there, we were to find our own way to Garrison.  There was a retired military officer on the airplane with us and he was quite interested in why we were on the airplane carrying an ARC27.  We asked him if he knew how we could get to Garrison.  He informed us that there was no public transportation available but he would be glad to take us to the train in his private automobile.  We were grateful for this offer and accepted immediately.  We made the trip much faster than anyone expected and returned home on the train.

I asked Norm one day what was going to happen when he gave me a job that I could not do.  He said, “That will never happen.  When I give you a job to do, you start thinking how you can accomplish the task and not why you can’t.  For those who may read this history, I tell you these stories, not to brag, but to teach a principle that I learned from my father.  When you have a job to do, figure a way to accomplish it.  Do not waist energy on the negative.

After I was divorced from my first wife in 1972, I married Dianne Patricia Della Silva Happy on September 22, 1972. She brought four children with her: Dennis Guy, Lourie Anne, Pamla Joy, and Julie Diane. In 1974, Dianne and I were sealed together in the Idaho Falls Temple.

We moved to Seattle Washington. I had obtained work in the Air Force Plant Representative Office at The Boeing Company.  I was the Manufacturing Representative for the Air Force on several multi million dollar contracts.  My job was to make sure the product was on schedule and cost.  I worked at the AFPRO for about five years, and then transferred to AFSC (Air Force Systems Command).  I was still working at the Boeing Company, but I only worked on the Airborne Command Post program.  I was in charge of the Technical Orders on this program.  We had to verify all of the technical orders and make sure they would serve the purpose they were written for.  I also had to make sure the Government Furnished Parts were available when needed.  When this program was accepted by the Air Force, I submitted my papers for retirement.  If I had remained working for AFSC, I would have had to move to Boston.  Living expenses are much higher there and I didn’t think I would have been able to make ends meet.  I Retired from Air Force Civil Service as a GS-12.

After I retired from Civil Service, I went to work for The Boeing Company in Wichita, Kansas as GFP (Government Furnished Property) manager for the B-1 Bomber and the B-52 modification.  This job did not keep me busy so I was also assigned to help build charts for supervision when they were asked to give presentations.

I worked in Wichita for one year and then obtained a transfer to the Airborne Command Post maintenance program in Oklahoma City (Still working for Boeing).  I was in charge of all the technical orders for the E-4 program.  This was a good experience.  All of the people I worked with were engineers.  The proposed changes that came in from the Air Force personnel had to be reviewed by me and either approved or disapproved.  All of the engineers were available if I needed their expertise.  I learned a lot in the three years that I worked in Oklahoma.

We had lots of thunder and lighting storms and tornadoes in Kansas and in Oklahoma.  On mother’s day in Oklahoma, hailstones the size of golf balls came down.  About 1/2 to ¾ of an inch in the center was round and the rest of the hailstone was made up of ice prisms.  When they hit the lawn, they would bounce about a foot in the air.  It looked like they were coming out of the ground.  We finally had enough of the storms and obtained a transfer back to Seattle.

In Seattle, I worked on the Saudi AWACS program.  Our job was to review all of the drawings and code each item to identify where a spare part could be obtained.  My experience in television paid off here.  I was assigned the Closed Circuit Television System to provision.  This process took several months to accomplish, and then the Air Force personnel would come in and review your work.  They would either approve what you had done or change it to fit their needs.

While I was working at The Boeing Company in 1987, I went for an annual check with the doctor and discovered that I had arterial sclerosis and was in need of heart bypass surgery.  I had been taking aspirin every day so it was necessary to wait 10 days for the aspirin to work out of my system so my blood would clot.  After the 10 days had passed, I underwent heart bypass surgery.  The day before I went in for surgery we had Ward Conference and our Bishop asked me if it would be alright for him to ask the Ward to pray for me.  I told him that I would appreciate that.   After the conference, the Stake President told me to be sure to do all the doctor told me to, because I was going to recover very fast.   I recovered so fast after the operation that all of the nurses were calling me the miracle man.  The Lord blessed me through this ordeal and I was back to work in 27 days, however it was several weeks before I could do a full days work.  Thru the blessings from the Lord and miracle medicine, I am still alive and doing well.

In 1987 we bought a city lot in Anacortes, WA.  The plan was to build a home there after I retired.  I always wanted to build my own home.  I worked with wood all of my life as a hobby and I felt that with a little help, I could build a home.  My neighbor in Lynnwood, Washington had some experience building and promised that when the time came, he would help me frame my home.  For payment, I was to help him frame a home that he was going to build.

After we returned from our mission, we went right to work on the house.  We hired a contractor to lay the foundation.  After a month had passed and the cement was cured, it was time to start building.  By then, it was the last week of November and Washington was living up to her reputation.  Some rain came down nearly every day.  Bob told me that I should wait until spring to start building our new home.

When we went on our mission, we were told that the Lord would bless us after we came home.  My dear wife (Dianne) and I talked it over and decided that the Lord could not bless us while we were sitting in a trailer house by a warm fire.

I had obtained some estimates for lumber to frame the house.  We had chosen  Frontier Lumber.  I went to the lumber yard and asked how I could be sure that I received the price that they had quoted me?  The man behind the counter introduced me to the owner, Terry.  He called the secretary over and told her to make a contractors account for me and code it for contractor prices.  He turned to me and said “You don’t want to pay the prices I quoted you.  Lumber prices have dropped considerably”.  Blessing No. 1.

When some of the first lumber was delivered, there was a whole bundle of 2X4s that were not put on my bill.  I went down to the store and informed Terry of the error. From that day on, Terry sold me Lumber, Tools, etc at rock bottom prices.

When we started framing the house, you could see the rain a few miles off shore all day and when we quit work about 4:30, the rain would move in on the main land.  It would rain most of the night.  In the morning, I would pump the water out of the basement and we would go back to work.  It took about a year to finish the home.

We sold the home in Washington and now live in Montana.

I have a shop at home and repair furniture.  I have built three different sets of kitchen cabinets.  Two from oak wood and one of knotty pine.  I also build some small pieces of furniture and self contained decorator shelves that hang on the wall.

My life in the church after I left Grouse Creek

While I was in High School at Montello, I served as Sunday School President.  After that, I didn’t have a calling in the Church until I returned home from the army.  Again I served as President of the SundaySchool in Wells, Nevada.  Esmond Ballingham was one of my councilors.

I served as a councilor to Dess Hunsaker in the Elders quorum.

When I left Wells, I became less active for a period of time until I moved to Washington.

My wife, Dianne and I were called as Stake Missionaries in the Everett Washington Stake.  After we served for two years, I was ordained a ‘Seventy” (1976).  My wife was retained as a Stake Missionary and we served together for four more years.

I served as one of the Presidents of the Seventy Group for a period of time and was then called as Senior President in the Lynnwood Stake.

In October  1983 I retired from Civil Service and went to work for The Boeing Company in Kansas.  The first month that we were there, I was again called as one of the Presidents of the Seventy Group.  We were in Kansas for just one year and moved to Oklahoma.  We still worked for The Boeing Company in Oklahoma.

We were not in Oklahoma very long when I was set apart as the Senior President of the Seventy Group in the Oklahoma South Stake.  I served in this calling until President Benson did away with the Seventies Groups in the Stakes.  I was then ordained a High Priest and called to be the Stake Mission President.  I was already serving as the Stake Mission President because that is one of the responsibilities of the Senior President.

After two and a half years in Oklahoma, we moved back to Washington.  I was called to be the Ward Mission Leader.  After about a year, I was asked to be a councilor in the Stake Mission Presidency.  The Stake Mission Presidency was released and I was called to be a councilor to Bishop Lamborn.

In 1990 I retired from The Boeing Company and my wife, Dianne, and I served a Full Time mission in North Carolina.  We were blessed with seven baptisms.  Bob Warberton’s son, Bruce was in the same mission with us.

When we returned home, we moved to Anacortes, Washington where I served as an Assistant to the High Priest Group Leader and later as High Priest Group Leader, Ward Mission Leader, and then WEBLO leader.  My wife served with me in this calling.

In January of 2000, we moved to Corvallis, Montana.  A short time after we moved into the Corvallis Ward, I was called as High Priest Group Leader.

In September of 2002, the Stake President called us into his office and asked us to go on a Service Mission and run the ’Dry Pack’ Cannery in Missoula.  We served in that calling for one and one half years.  We are happy when we are serving the Lord.

After we were released from the Cannery Mission, I served as an assistant to the High Priest Group Leader.  When the Group Leader was released, Dianne and I were called as Ward Missionaries.  We served in this calling until we moved to Thompson Falls.

We are now in Thompson Falls, Montana, house sitting for Dianne’s brother, Barry Della Silva and his wife, Sherry while they are on a full time mission in the Toronto, Canada Mission.

I am the Branch Mission Leader here in Thompson Falls.  My wife Dianne is working in Relief Society.

Arthur passed away on December 10, 2013. The last of his generation in the children of Sidney and Alice Myrtle Johnson Paskett family. He fought a good figh and will long be remembered for the positive impact he had on all that met him.