A "wow" experience

Recently my sister-in-law Jan asked me if I would like to take a little road trip with her to Ogden to visit the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers Museum. She needed to visit it as she had been assigned to write a story about the museum for her Salt Lake DUP chapter. I was excited to go because my mother worked at the Ogden DUP Museum for years and years and years. As a child I spent many, many hours there each summer as my mom would conduct tours through the museum. I haven't been there for several years so I jumped at the chance to visit it with Jan.

So yesterday was the day we went, and just walking in the door and taking in the smell of the museum brought back so many memories! We walked around for quite some time taking pictures of artifacts and talking with the woman who had let us in.

We were about ready to leave when I said to Jan, "Oh, there is a small basement if you want to see that before we go." She agreed, so we went down the back stairs to the small and dungeon-like basement (as a child that basement really gave me the creeps!). As we were leaving the basement to go back upstairs I noticed a very old family picture hanging high on the wall. This framed photograph was not alone - the walls were covered with other pictures but for some reason this one jumped out at me. I stopped to get a closer look. The name on the frame said, "William Fuller Critchlow Family." I said to Jan that the name Critchlow was somehow familiar to me but I wasn't sure why. I grabbed a folding chair to stand on so that I could get a closer look. As I looked at each person in the photo, my eyes stopped at one little boy. He looked to be about 9 or 10 in the photo, and he seemed to be looking right at me. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I said to Jan, "See this little boy on the end? He is looking at me, almost like he is trying to tell me something." I stared back at him for the longest time. I took a couple of pictures of the photo and as we were leaving I told Jan that there was "something about that little boy." Luckily his name, Charles Robert, was on the photo so I couldn't wait to get home to do some research on him.

I need to back up - several months ago I was talking to my mom about our ancestors as I was trying to put together a genealogy sheet. I asked about my grandmother's father who I knew had divorced her mother when my grandmother was quite young. My mom told me that we don't know anything about him and that we didn't even have a photo of him. We were more focused on her adoptive father as he is the one who raised her. She said that her mother never spoke of her birth father.

I was very intrigued about this man whom we knew nothing about. I felt like he and his line should be included in my genealogy since it is his line from which I come but I felt like I was at a dead end with my mom not knowing anything about him.

So last night I sat down to figure out who this little boy is and why I was so drawn to him.  After a bit of research I soon discovered that HE is my grandmother's father!  The man whom we knew nothing about! I called my mom to tell her of my discovery and thought that after her working there for so many years certainly she knew of the photo. However, she was shocked to learn of it! She had no idea that a photo of her own grandfather and her great-grandparents was hanging in the museum for all these years!

I have also now found that the written histories of his father, William Critchlow, and his mother, Mary Eliza, (my 2nd great-grandparents who are also in the photograph) are also there at the museum! Mary Eliza is the daughter of Captain James Brown of the Mormon Battalion. He is my 3rd great-grandfather.

I know it was not by coincidence that I found this photo at the museum. I am so happy that Jan knew to invite me to go with her! I know I was supposed to be there to find these things. This little boy was looking right at me, saying, "Look at me, look at me! You need to know who I am."

And now I know exactly who he is.

Here they are - Charles Robert Critchlow and his father William Fuller Critchlow, my great-grandfather and my gr-gr grandfather. It was this little boy and the look in his eyes that caught my attention.

twenty-two years ago....

....I married my sweetheart. TWENTY-TWO years, people!

We spent the day Saturday in St. George helping my brother and his family move to a new home. On our drive home that night we decided that instead of grabbing Arby's or McD's for dinner we would make the most of our anniversary and stop at a nice sit-down restaurant. Hey, after all it was our special day! The problem, we soon found, was that in these little tiny towns in the middle of Utah there is no such thing as "nice sit-down." Nope, those are words these small town folk maybe have never uttered in their communities with a population of 37.

We finally got off an exit after seeing several billboards for a sit-down that was claiming to be the best in the West. My first clue that we should avoid this place was evident on one of their billboards -"Come in and enjoy the best steak's in town."
Steak's? With an apostrophe "s" ???

BIG. RED. FLAG.

Our waitress was a sweet girl. A bit naive, but very sweet. Here are some excerpts from our conversations with her...

The restaurant was SO cold that we had to bring in our jackets and blankets from the car and bundle up in them.

Me to the waitress: "It is so cold in here!"

Her: "Oh, do you think it's cold in here? Well where are you from?"

I told her where we lived (a town that's even colder).

Her: "Oh, well that's why.....they keep their buildings warmer up there than we do down here. Ya, that's why you're cold."

Me: "What kind of lettuce is in the salad?"

Her, looking a bit confused: "Umm, just regular lettuce."

Me: "I mean is it Iceberg? Romaine? Spinach?"

Her: "It's just, ya know, regular lettuce. But there are some purple things in there that I think are just regular lettuce that they dye purple to make it look better."

After the salad came, we found that it actually was not "dyed regular lettuce" but "red Romaine." John explained this to her and she said,

"Oh, I always wondered how it got purple. I didn't know it GREW that way!"

Her: "We have two kinds of pies for dessert - Pumpkin and Mince Meat."

Us: "What exactly is Mince Meat Pie?"

Her: "Well, it has apples. And some nuts........or something like that. And then some spices....I think."

Us: "Why is it called Mince Meat when it is more of an apple pie?

Her: "Well, I think it's because the little old lady who invented it a long time ago decided to call it Mince Meat so, ya know, it just stuck."

After bringing us vanilla ice cream (we passed on the pies, feeling that ice cream was the safer choice at this point).....

Her: "My boss's daughter is mad at me."

Me: "Why?"

Her: "Because I gave you two scoops of ice cream and I'm only supposed to give you one. Ya, she's really mad. She was giving me really dirty looks. But I don't care! I really really really really really don't care (as she was skipping away from our table)!"

Cutting the wedding cake - March 14, 1987

(Well, would ya look at that - I used to have a defined waist! Huh, whatdyaknow.)

When we got home late Saturday, the kids had made us an "anniversary cake" (totally delicious, from scratch Buttermilk Lemon cake). We tried to re-create the cutting-the-cake moment from 22 years earlier.

I know, it's cheesy.

Brooke originally had decorated our bedroom door with balloons. Matthew later moved them to the bed. (I don't know why - maybe to make us feel like we were in some cheap motel in Vegas or something.)