Mom

My mom grew up as a tomboy in an era when opportunities for girls to participate in athletics were still few and far between. She is the second oldest of eight children (Seven girls, one boy) and grew up in a house with one bathroom. She was always fast and in her childhood says she was even faster than the boys. (Even when she was an adult I have a memory of her winning her age group back when they would have foot races on the 4th of July).

I remember her telling me about getting in a fight as a child against a much larger boy. The other kids formed a circle around them and they were in the middle to fight. She immediately punched the boy right in the nose and that was the end of the fight.

I would guess my mom's competitiveness comes through her dad. My Grandpa Nalder played college football for the U (where he played defensive tackle at 5'8", 175 lbs and his nickname was Killer Nalder). Ping-pong is the sport I remember competing with my mom the most in and if you were going to win, you were going to have to earn it. In the basement where the ping-pong table was, there was a spot where the ceiling dropped a little lower and that edge was covered with little divots from people slamming their paddles. I guess my mom passed on some of that competitiveness. (My dad always said we got our smarts and our athleticism from my mom. I guess we got our sense of humor from my dad, some more than others).

Another example of my mom's competitiveness was her sliding into second while playing co-ed softball when she was eight months pregnant with my brother Alan. (Perhaps not so coincidentally, Alan is probably the most competitive of my siblings).

I'm not sure which of my brothers was playing at the time, but there was a particular baseball game where some calls weren't going our way and my mom was letting the ump hear about it. (I don't condone this behavior). The ump became fed up and yelled at my mom, asking her if she thought she could do better. Now I've seen that interaction happen before with other umps and other vocal parents, and usually the parent maybe grumbles a few more words under their breath but ultimately backs down. But that's not what happened with my mom. "Yeah, I do!" she replied and she came down and started umpiring the game. The first batter after my mom took the field, there were runners on first and second and the batter popped it up in the infield. Without hesitation, she called the batter out and said that the runners could advance at their own risk. Her first play, she had to call an "infield fly rule," and she nailed it.

On one occasion as an adult, I had yelled at (and chased after) a neighborhood kid after my boys kept coming home crying after run-ins with him. Shortly thereafter, I received a note on my porch from the boys' mother criticizing my actions and basically calling me a jerk (which was probably fair). I was incensed. This lady's kid caused all kinds of problems in the neighborhood and she was blaming me. My instinct was to double down and reply with a nasty note, and point out all this woman's flaws as a mother. But I called my mom. She wisely counseled me that criticizing her as a mother was a fight I wouldn't win and suggested that instead of replying with an angry letter, that I call her and calmly try to come to an understanding. I didn't want to do that. But I did. And we did come to an understanding and a friendship was preserved.

My mom has dealt with some adversity in her life. She came from a family of eight and my dad from a family of ten and neither of my grandmothers ever suffered a miscarriage. (My mom would always tell men she dated that she wanted ten kids, which usually scared them off, until she told that to my dad and he responded, "I was hoping for twelve." (They settled for seven)). But after my mom and dad were married in 1973, she suffered two miscarriages before I was born (three years later in 1976). She would talk about how hard those first few Mother's Day were for her.

When I was seven or eight, my mom lost the tip of her middle finger in an accident with a lawnmower. She's always had a good sense of humor about it and laughed good-naturedly at my dad's jokes about getting a discount on a manicure or being able to count in fractions.

When I was 14 or 15, my dad made some mistakes and got into some legal trouble. The case worked its way through the legal system and a couple of years later, just before I turned 17, my dad was sentenced to a year in federal prison. My mom hadn't known anything about the illegal activity and as I look back on it now, could have easily decided this wasn't her problem and parted ways with my dad. I don't think that thought ever entered her mind. She stood by him through everything. And then my dad went to prison and she was left alone with seven children, from age 17 down to 2. I think about how much of a collaboration it is between Jeanell and I just to get our lone remaining school-aged child where she needs to be and can't imagine how my mom managed that, let alone the financial and other considerations. She did have support and help from friends and family. People from the community we didn't even know well stepped in a paid some of my brothers' sports fees.

But my mom shouldered the bulk of that burden, and did so admirably.

She would take us on trips to visit my dad (he was at Nellis Air Force Base, near Las Vegas) and would drive us all down in our big blue van (the Komfort Koach). That van had a peaked roof and on one of these trips (taken on New Year's Eve 1993) we inadvertently pulled into the underground parking at Circus Circus and the top of the van was scraping on the ceiling of the parking garage. I don't remember the details but we were able to get back out and into the oversize parking. The eight of us spent the night in a single hotel room watching Seinfeld reruns and went to see my dad the following day.

I'll be forever grateful to my mom for holding our family together in a way that when my dad returned, we were able to recover some normalcy rather than letting it be something that would drastically alter the course of the remainder of our lives.

My mom was challenged again a few years ago with the unexpected death of her husband of 48 years (he passed away just two weeks after their 48th anniversary). That has been a difficult adjustment as she and my dad spent almost all of their time together. But she continues to press forward and bless the lives of her family and those around her.

My mom has always been an example of service. One of my favorite examples of this was when she and her good friend Liz Tripp took it upon themselves to help some kids in the neighborhood for whom English was a second language learn to read. Every week, these kids would come to their houses and my mom would give of her time helping them to learn to read.

As I sat down to write this, I found that I had a hard time recalling a lot of distinct memories between me and my mom. On further reflection, I think that is because she has always been a constant in my life. She's always been there, loving and supporting me, helping me to become the man I am today.

I love you Mom. Happy Mother's Day!

My all-time favorite picture of my mom

Marrying Jeanell

In five days, Jeanell and I will celebrate our 24th anniversary, which has me reflecting back on our engagement and marriage.

Some time before we got engaged, we had gone to Heber City with Jeanell's family to ride the Polar Express and stay over night. The next day, Carol (Jeanell's mom), Jeanell, and I drove back together in the big red Ford F150 (later totaled) and stopped at Sierra West Jewelers in Orem, on University Parkway. I believe Dave (Jeanell's dad) had a connection with one of the jewelers there (Bart?) and others in the Jefferies family had purchased engagement/wedding rings there. In any case, the three of us went and picked out a ring together (let's be honest, I did very little of the picking, but all of the paying).

I don't remember if it was a salesman or another customer but some guy noticed me browsing the store with my fiance-to-be and her mom and whispered "Good luck, buddy" as I walked past. Personally, I was glad to have them both there. I have a few talents I guess, but picking out a ring I would be confident Jeanell would like is not one of them.

I don't remember if it was before or after we went ring-shopping, but at some point I sat down with Dave (Jeanell's dad) and asked for Jeanell's hand. I don't remember too much about the conversation. It seems like it turned out that everyone else was gone somewhere so it was just Dave and I in the house. We talked in their front room at the old house on Deseret Circle. As he always is, Dave was very kind and made be feel at ease. The only thing I specifically remember him saying is that I didn't have to ask, but he appreciated that I did. He gave us his blessing.

A little time passed, I picked up the correctly-sized ring, and we were ready to get engaged. With Jeanell's three kids, we kind of had to plan a night out to go get engaged, so I believe she knew it was coming. We drove into Salt Lake (neither of us acknowledged as we drove in that I was going to ask her to marry me, but my memory was that we both knew it was happening) and ate dinner at the downtown Olive Garden (now gone). Afterward, we went on a carriage ride around Temple Square (also no longer a thing) and during the carriage ride is when I asked her. The driver of the carriage was chatty and so it was a few minutes before I found my opportunity. But as soon as the driver stopped talking for a minute, I got down on one knee (or at least I think I did, probably wasn't too easy to do that inside the carriage) and asked Jeanell if she would marry me. When she responded that she would, I slipped the ring onto her finger. Almost immediately, the driver turned around to talk to us, noticed the ring on Jeanell's finger, and asked if that was new. We replied that it was and he congratulated us. We returned home to tell our parents and took our first photo as an engaged couple.

I wish I could say that it was all smooth sailing after that, but our engagement was not without its hiccups. For one, we were apart for the most part other than weekends as I finished the 2nd half of my junior year at Utah State and Jeanell continued in Grantsville. It would have been toward the end of February or early March when Jeanell had arranged with a photographer to go and get our engagement pictures taken. It seems like things had been a little off between us in the days or weeks leading up to that. In any case, we drove into Salt Lake to get the pictures taken, but the photographer didn't show up. I've been trying to remember how we learned that he wasn't coming. These were the days before most people had a cell phone. Jeanell may have been using one that her parents had and maybe the photographer called us on that (but not until we'd already made the drive into Salt Lake). When the photographer canceled, I thought we should stay in Salt Lake and go to dinner or something and make a date of it. But Jeanell thought we should go back home so she could make it to the practice for a number she was part of for the Old Folks' Sociable.

This disagreement turned into a pretty big argument and it continued after we had returned to Grantsville (we didn't go to dinner). I remember going down into the room where Jeanell was staying in her parents' basement and arguing some more and at some point Jeanell saying that maybe we should call off the wedding. This was not what I wanted to hear and I remember becoming pretty upset. Jeanell wasn't suggesting that we break-up, but just that we postpone the wedding and get married a little later. Since we hadn't taken our engagement pictures, announcements hadn't gone out, but we were pretty deep into the wedding planning process. We continued talking and eventually got back on the same page and decided to move ahead with the wedding as scheduled. A week or two later, we went in for our rescheduled photo session at the International Peace Gardens and took some great photos. The initial cancellation almost seemed to be for the best because we both felt we were in a better place at the time of the rescheduled appointment than at the time of the original appointment.

We were married on May 10, 2000 in the Salt Lake Temple. I had worked for Hatch Howard for several years and he was a sealer at the Bountiful Temple and I remember wanting him to seal us, but because we were getting married in Salt Lake, that wasn't going to work out. The sealer who did seal us (Ned Winder, I believe) had also sealed Brad (Jeanell's ex-husband) and Jeanell a few years prior and I remember him being curious as to what had happened with her previous husband. This wasn't just privately to Jeanell either, but with both of us there together, he asked if her first husband had died. And when we told him that her first husband was alive and well, he said something about him wandering off into the Stansbury mountains (where Ned had apparently camped and hunted from time to time). I think we just nodded and laughed and hoped that he would drop it. A bit awkward, to say the least.

My other distinct memory for the actual marriage ceremony is that after it was over and the people who had attended were walking by to congratulate us, I accidentally kissed Jeanell's Aunt Jean right on the lips. It happened so fast, but I'm quite certain that neither of us intended a kiss on the lips. I think we both were going for the cheek and just turned opposite ways or something. Has always been a funny memory from that day.

I remember it being a cold and windy day and getting pictures around the temple being a bit challenging. Our wedding video has some footage of us trying to get the big family shot on the temple steps with Jeanell holding onto her veil as it is being blown by the wind. (It also catches me taking a not-so-subtle glance at Jeanell's chest, but we just try to pretend that it doesn't).

After pictures, we moved on to a wedding celebration at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. I believe we each invited 100 people and had a dinner, a short program, and dancing.

The program was emceed by Matt Price and Jerry Stocks (They had a couple of good bits at my expense. The one I remember was about about the fact that I had written in a journal after Jeanell and I broke up in high school "Don't ever date red-heads" so Matt disclosed the fact that I had written that and Jerry replied "Right, just marry 'em.") and consisted of me, my brothers, and Jeanell's brothers performing a dance to "My Girl" by The Temptations (the dance we performed actually originated when several of my friends performed it at my buddy Dave Fawson's sister Angie's wedding (though for whatever reason I did not participate at that time), then Dave, and two of my other friends (Aaron Allred and Ryan Keisel) used the dance for their number in the Most Preferred Man contest our junior year, and finally, we performed it at my and Jeanell's wedding). My sister McKell and son Devin sang a duet of "Side by Side". Jeanell, her sister Rachel, and mother Carol sang “Goin’ to the Chapel” and Jeanell and I sang "Story of Love." My favorite number was Jeanell's and my parents singing "I Got You Babe" after which Matt used a line my dad had given him, "There we had the mamas and the papas singing a little Sonny and Cher."

We had a live band for the dance and when it was time for that to start, the band was asking us what song we wanted them to play for our first dance. I asked them if they knew "Have You Ever Been in Love" by Peter Cetera, which we considered to be our song (at least for the second time we dated. The first time we dated it was Bryan Adams' "Please Forgive Me"), That wasn't in their repertoire so we settled for "When I Fall in Love" from "Sleepless in Seattle."

A couple of final memories from that night. My brother Scott and Jeanell's brother Aaron both spoke Spanish and at some point during the evening, Aaron couldn't see me or Jeanell and said to Scott "Donde estan Rich y Jeanell? Estan haciendo la cosa loca?" I was actually right behind them and also spoke Spanish and immediately interjected "Yo estoy aqui." Aaron turned around and started laughing.

The last memory is about Devin, who typically was always happy to go and stay with his Grandma Jefferies, but as the evening wound down and Jeanell and I were getting ready to leave on our honeymoon, Devin unexpectedly became very adamant about going with his mom and began crying (he was four). My memory is that he was still crying in Grandma's arms as we got onto the elevator to go down to the car. Made that moment a little bittersweet.

Those are the memories I have of the day I married the love of my life and the events leading up to it. So grateful for that wonderful day and the tremendous blessing marrying Jeanell has been in my life.

273

I started my junior year (the 1993 football season) as the starting fullback. Dano Didericksen (Jeanell's cousin) was the returning starting quarterback and Gary Bleazard was the starting tailback. (I should mention that Matt Barton most likely would have beat me out as the starting fullback, but unfortunately for the team, was ineligible to play that season).

The first few games were relatively uneventful from my standpoint as I struggled to figure out my game and how I could be effective. We had a big win over 3A Pineview (we were 2A at the time) in our first game, followed by a pretty easy win over Gunnison, a heart-breaking loss to North Summit (that team featured Courtney Richins, who would go on to return punts for the Utes during the 1999 season).

I finally started to make my mark against Manti. While both running backs would get carries in the veer offense that we ran, typically the tailback got most of the carries. Gary, who also returned punts, got the wind knocked out of him on a punt return and needed to sit out for a play so they moved me to tailback and called a play for me (Right, veer-at 7, a run off-tackle to the left side). I still remember Coach Riner saying to me on the sideline "Do you know how to run it?", evidently somewhat skeptical that I could adjust to a play for the other running back position. I nodded and jogged onto the field.

Dano took the snap, moved down the line, and handed me the ball. I burst through the line, evaded a couple of tackles, and broke into the open field. Eighty yards later, I reached the end zone, getting caught from behind just as I reached the goal line. As I recall, Coach Riner never asked me if I knew how to run a play again. Maybe he should have.

A win over Manti was followed by another heartbreaking loss to Morgan in our homecoming game. Dano was injured early in that game when he and Gary collided on a defensive play. My good friend John Larsen, who was the back-up quarterback, filled in admirably for the rest of the game, but we lost 19-17 (Morgan would go on to win the State Championship that year).

The next week was UEA and we traveled to Parowan for a Wednesday game. I don't remember exactly, but I want to say Parowan had lost 20+ consecutive games and after the emotional homecoming loss the week before, we had a hard time getting ourselves motivated for the game. Dano's injury was significant enough that he would miss this game as well so my buddy John started at quarterback. My very first carry I was tackled awkwardly and sprained my right ankle. I was done for the game.

After looking at my ankle and taping it up, someone helped me over to sit in Larsen's maroon and white van, which was parked somewhat near the sidelines. But I don't remember really being able to see the game. Jeanell and I were dating at this time and unbeknownst to me, she had made the trip down to the game with her parents. I was hurt by the time she got there, but she came and found me in Larsen's van and sat with me. I remember Coach Camp coming to check on me at some point and laughing when he saw Jeanell sitting next to me.

The game turned into a dogfight. I remember somehow being with the team at halftime and Coach Butler asking me if I could go, because they could sure use me. I could barely walk and certainly didn't feel I could play football. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not really tough, either as a football player, or in general. I wasn't the guy to heroically play on a bum ankle.

In the end, we did pull out the victory. John threw for close to 300 yards and Ernie Beacham made a game-saving tackle late in the game in which he knocked the opposing player out (while also preventing him from reaching the first down marker).

After the game, I just wanted to go home, or possibly go with Jeanell, who I believe was going on to St. George with her family, but my parents had rented or borrowed an RV and had some kind of family vacation planned and insisted I go with them. I don't remember many details of that trip, but I do remember that it was not very comfortable in that RV with my sprained ankle.

My ankle didn't heal like I hoped and I was unable to practice the following week as we prepared to face Millard. The ankle didn't seem to be getting better at all and I figured I would be out again. I remember waking up early on game day and icing my ankle in a bucket of ice water. Afterward, the ankle felt better than it had all week and for the first time, I thought I might be able to go.

I traveled to Millard with the team and had my ankle taped tightly. It was decided that I wouldn't play in the first half and we'd see where things stood at half time. It was one of the coldest games I ever played in and rained the entire game. At halftime, we trailed 6-0 and after confirming that I felt I could play, Coach Butler told me I'd be in to start the second half.

We continued to trail 6-0 into the fourth quarter. Millard drove deep into our territory, but on fourth down, tried a fake field goal, which our defense blew up. As we took over possession, Coach Butler called a 31 quick trap, one of the plays designed for the fullback. We ended up running it four times in a row and marched down the field. Gary scored a touchdown, and Nate Butler added the game-winning extra point and we emerged with a 7-6 victory.

The next week, we were back home to face the Juab Wasps. After my injury, it was decided to take me off of the defense, where I had played outside linebacker, and only play offense. (Defense was never my thing so this was probably a net positive for the team. I don't remember who took my place on defense though). My first carry, I broke away for a fifty yard run down to the ten yard line. A couple of plays later, I scored on a short run for my first touchdown of the game. As the game went on, I had some other good runs and had scored a couple more touchdowns. Dano (now back from injury, he had played against Millard as well) also scored a touchdown and we led 28-6. I had 116 yards or so.

We got the ball back, and Coach called for a right, veer-at 6. This was similar to the right, veer-at 7 that I ran against Manti, but this one went to the fullback to the strong side of the field. I burst through the line and cut back to the left side of the field and outran everyone for a 67-yard touchdown.

We now led 35-6. That long run had brought my total up to 193 yards on 14 carries. We got the ball back again a few minutes later. Ordinarily, I think my day would have been done, but because I was within 7 yards of 200, Coach said they'd give me one carry to try to break 200. He asked what play I wanted to run. "Right, veer-at 6," I replied, figuring I might as well go with what had just worked. The ball was spotted closer to the right side of the field this time and we were on our own twenty yard line. But I again took the handoff, and in a near replica of the previous run, burst through the line, cut back to the opposite side, and outraced everyone eighty yards to the end zone.

The look probably wasn't great. I know the Juab coaching staff wasn't happy that I was still in the game. But as Coach Camp said, what were they supposed to do, tell me to fall down once I got my seven yards. Needless to say, it hadn't ever occurred to me to do that or to run out of bounds.

These circumstances allowed me to set what was at the time the Grantsville Cowboy and Cowboy Stadium rushing record. 273 yards on 15 carries.

I need to mention the outstanding O-Line I had in front of me that game and throughout that year. Chad Brown was the center, George Tripp and Larry Evans the guards, and Travis Tate, Jared Johnson, and Kyle Matthews the tackles. Those guys opened running lanes all year long.

I should also mention that Gary was 10 times the blocker I was. I'm sure it was frustrating for him that he'd throw these terrific blocks to spring me loose and I wouldn't typically return the favor. (It's not that I didn't want to. I just wasn't very good at it).

The Grantsville Cowboy rushing record didn't last too long. It was broken a little over four years later by my younger brother Alan. He amassed 294 yards on 34 carries in a win over the San Juan Broncos in the State Semifinals en route to a State Championship (Alan scored 42 touchdowns that season, which was a state record that either still stands or at least stood for a long time afterward. He ended his career with what was also a state record 77 touchdowns).

My Cowboy Stadium record lasted a while longer, but on August 24, 2018, in a game I attended, Parker Thomas picked up 313 yards on 37 carries in a victory over Summit Academy. My record had fallen. (Parker would break my record again, but not his own, a few weeks later against Union, when he rushed for 283 yards on 24 carries).

Following the game, I was invited over to Jeanell's Aunt Lisa's house where the Soelberg side of the family was gathering for pizza. I'll just say that if you're meeting your girlfriend's extended family for the first time, having it be after a game in which you ran for five touchdowns and 273 yards isn't a bad way to do it.

The remainder of the 1993 season didn't go as well as we hoped. We won the next week against South Summit in our final regular season game and again in our first round playoff game against South Sevier. Gary had great games running the ball in both of those games, despite also being one of our defensive stars, which also pitched a shut-out in both of those games.

But we would lose another heartbreaker against Beaver in the semifinals when we were unable to punch it in to tie it up in the waning minutes of the game, after a tremendous catch and run by Nate to get us into scoring position. Our season was over.

But that season provided one of the fond memories of my football career, breaking/setting the rushing record for Grantsville High School.

Football

My first years of tackle football didn't go well. I played Little League in 7th and 8th grades and did not have much success or fun either year. In 7th Grade, my coach was Shane Watson and I believe John Hislop helped as well. There may have been others. The main thing I remember about that year was being terrified of the Tooele "A" Team. I'd scrimmage against the "B" Team all day long, but those "A" Team boys knew how to hit in a way I was not prepared for. I remember getting my first carry and getting creamed and I was done. Crying ensued. I was in 7th Grade and crying because the Tooele "A" Team hit too hard. I ended up disliking football so much that I missed the last game to go to a Scout campout. If you know me and my abhorrence of scouting and camping, you know this was an act of desperation.

I had no intention of playing in 8th grade, but John Ed Millward decided to coach the 8th grade team that year and actively recruited me. Finally, I relented and said I'd play. We were coached by John and several of his classmates (Cary Burr, Craig Ratcliffe, Kelly Clark, and Kirk Matthews are a few of the names I remember). We were not very good. Mrs. Burr (Cary's mother) was our English teacher and tried to motivate us one week for our upcoming game against Murray. She got up bright and early on a Saturday morning to come and watch us play. We got annihilated.

Another memory I have from that year was John Ed driving us all home after practices in his little pick-up (no idea where our parents were). I remember all of us sitting in the back and up on the sides and tailgate. On one occasion we got pulled over, but the cop just told us we needed to sit down in the bed rather than up on the sides or tailgate.

We lost every game but the last one. I don't remember what the score was exactly, but I believe I scored three touchdowns. It hadn't been a successful year, but at least we went out on a high note.

Despite the success of that final game, by the time the next season rolled around (our first year of high school football), I had decided that football wasn't for me. While most of my friends did play, my good friend George and I decided we were going to focus on basketball (this is getting ahead a little bit, but George and I would end up being two of the three from our class to be selected for 1st Team All-State for football our Senior year. The other was Ryan Keisel). My dad wanted me to play badly. Even after two-a-days were over, he took me over to talk to Paul Didericksen (who was part of the coaching staff at the time) about playing. I wavered a little, but ultimately declined.

Consequently, my one football-related memory from that year was betting the freshman team that they wouldn't beat Park City by four touchdowns and if they did, I'd let them cut my hair. Well, the team beat Park City by four touchdowns and came chasing after me as soon as the game ended. They held me down and got a few chunks cut out of my hair when I countered that I would buy everyone a shake, which they accepted. I later learned that John Hislop and another dad thought about upping the ante and offering to buy everyone two shakes to cut my hair, but in the end, they decided to let me off. We all walked down to Robin's from the high school and I bought everyone on the team a shake. As I recall, the Robin's workers weren't thrilled at having to make 20-30 shakes.

At some point over the next year, I decided I was back in on football. I went to 7-on-7 drills over the summer. I have one particular memory of defending my now brother-in-law Cam Jefferies (who is two years older than me and was headed into his Senior year) during 7-on-7 and him catching a pass but me being right there in position after the catch. Coach (Kevin) Butler said something like "You're lucky we're not in pads, Cam" to which Cam immediately retorted "When we're in pads, Mouritsen won't be here," which I can admit was a good comeback and one I deserved.

My Sophomore season ended up being a fun one. I started the year as the third-string tailback on the JV team, but ultimately found some success on the JV, and we only lost one game. Meanwhile, the varsity team would win GHS's first-ever State Championship that year, and I was able to take the field for a couple of plays in the State Championship game as part of the kickoff-return team. A very memorable year.

That year really boosted my confidence. While I didn't play a big role with the varsity team, I was part of the scout team and despite our "best in 2A" defense that year, I remember having some successful runs against our starting defense during practice. I decided I could be a football player.

When my Junior year came around I was ready. I intended to tell the story of that year in this post, but the lead-up ended up being longer than I thought it would be.

Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion...

Caleb

When Jeanell and I were married in May of 2000, she had three wonderful boys from her previous marriage. While I don't remember a specific discussion on the matter, I think we both thought we'd wait a little bit before adding more children to the equation. I had one more year to finish up my bachelor's degree at Utah State and I think we both thought we'd wait at least until I had finished my degree before having more kids.

We lived with Jeanell's parents the summer after we got married, and then in August we moved up to Logan into an apartment in Aggie Village (cinder block walls and no 220v outlet for a dryer, anyone?). Unlike the rest of you parents and your carefully planned families, we got caught up in the fun of the process that results in children and Jeanell became pregnant much earlier than we anticipated, which she announced by leaving the positive pregnancy test sitting on our dresser.

That winter was tough on everyone. The snow and cold were pretty harsh, even by Cache Valley standards. I'd moved Jeanell away from her family and friends for the first time in her life, got her pregnant right off the bat when she already had three little boys to take care of, and then began a busy year of work and school. (This wasn't quite as bad as my great-great-grandpa Mourits Mouritsen, who married two women on the same day in October of 1885, got one of them, my great-great-grandma, pregnant, and then within three weeks was off on a two-year mission to his homeland of Denmark, leaving his new wives to also care for his two daughters from his first marriage. It was a different time).

Despite the challenges of the intervening months, April rolled around and excitement over the birth of our new son was high. We were scheduled to drive down to LDS hospital in Salt Lake City on Thursday. April 12, 2001, and Jeanell was going to be induced (Jeanell's longtime obstetrician, John C. Nelson, was at LDS Hospital, which is why we made the trip to Salt Lake rather than staying in Logan). April 12 is my brother Brent's birthday and he was excited about his new nephew being born on his birthday.

We arrived in Salt Lake and as I recall, for one reason or another, the inducement was delayed. I believe we met Jeanell's dad and he took the boys with him so I was at the hospital with Jeanell's mom, Carol, and sister, Rachel. But somehow my family got the idea that all of the Jefferies were at the hospital and not wanting to be left out, suddenly showed up. My parents and five of my six siblings (I believe Alan was on his mission at the time) crowded into Jeanell’s hospital room. Scott even brought a date because anytime you can bring a girl you've been on a few dates with to the birth of your nephew you have to do it.

I didn't know how any of this worked and at one point, the nurses asked everyone to leave the room so that they could check how things were progressing. I was halfway out of the room, before they informed me that I was welcome to stay.

The night wore on and it became apparent that this was going to be a long process. Eventually, my parents and four younger siblings went home and when Caleb finally arrived at 3:57 AM on Friday, April 13, only Carol, Rachel, Scott, and Scott's date remained. I remember them handing Caleb to me for the first time and me trying to hold him, but I was preettty tired by that time. I think my head nodded a couple of times, which the nurses seemed not to notice, but Jeanell alerted them that they probably should take Caleb back from me for the time being.

And that's how my youngest son, Caleb, came into this world. Sure, he was born on Friday the 13th, but at least he had avoided sharing a birthday with his Uncle Brent.

When he was young and we lived in our first house in Ogden, I was working on my MBA from Weber State and Jeanell was alternating between working swing or overnights at Walmart. It was too difficult to do homework while trying to watch Caleb so I'd just go to bed with Caleb to get him to sleep and then wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning to do my homework.

Caleb loved Monster's Inc and was Sully one year for Halloween. Later, his Grandma Jefferies made him a Mike Wazowski cake, which he responded to with unbridled enthusiasm. I remember him finding some type of cheese sauce and dumping it all over himself. He loved the Johnny Depp version of Willy Wonka and learned all of the Oompa Loompa dances from that film.

I distinctly remember cutting Caleb's PB&J for him one day at our house in Ogden, and him becoming extremely upset. Not understanding what I had done wrong, I tried to get him to explain and finally figured out that he was upset because I didn't cut his PB&J the same way that Jeanell did. Jeanell cut the bread almost all the way through and then pulled the pieces apart, where I had just cut all the way through to begin with. Apparently, this was not acceptable.

Caleb learned at a young age that hitting his mom was not allowed, but he seemed to also learn that hitting his dad was fair game. Throughout his childhood, whenever he would get upset at Jeanell or be angry at something she was telling him, he would hit me. I don't know that I loved this system, but I guess I preferred it to him hitting Jeanell.

When he got a little older and we moved to Elwood, he first started to get into computers. He would play games on Club Penguin, but also built his own web page where he would display screen captures from Club Penguin and talk about the different games. We would give him activities and chores he needed to do to limit his screen time and he would go on runs and shoot baskets in the back yard. The chore that I remember giving him that he did faithfully was watering the trees along the back of our yard.

I don't remember exactly how old he was, maybe four or five, and we took a rode trip with some of the Jefferies family to Klamath Falls, Oregon to see Brian Regan. We drove from Grantsville to Klamath Falls in an RV, which was a 13+ hour adventure in itself. Upon arriving, Caleb was told that the condo we were staying in had a hot tub. He had already changed into his swimsuit and was sprinting out to the back patio where the hot tub was, not realizing that the sliding glass door was still closed. He slammed into the door at full speed. Fortunately, at his size, he did not break the door, but was merely knocked down, giving us all a good laugh.

I coached his Junior Jazz basketball team for many years, where he was always one of my better players, but we didn't always see eye to eye.

When we moved to Grantsville and he started high school, he got more involved in online gaming, and met friends that he has now been gaming with for several years. He met many of them last summer when they all met up where some of them lived in Wisconsin.

I don't know that Caleb loved running, but with his mom's and my encouragement, and his Uncle Scott (Mouritsen) coaching, he ran cross-country all four years of high school. He earned the nickname "Controversial Caleb" when he opined in a class that fruit-based ice creams were "crap."

Since turning 21, he has become the family bartender and enjoys mixing drinks for others in the family. We took him to Keys on Main (a piano bar in downtown Salt Lake City) a year or so ago and he had gone to use the restroom, and came out just as they started playing Bohemian Rhapsody. He ran back to our table and sang every word with a huge smile on his face. Relatedly, he's always a willing participant in our family Karaoke nights.

One of my favorite things about Caleb is the special relationship he has with his little sister Lila, who is almost eight years younger.

He's been working on a bachelor's degree in Computer Science and plans to finish it up next spring.

I love Caleb and am so grateful to have him in my life.

Meeting Jeanell

I grew up (at least from the age of six) in the small (at the time) town of Grantsville, Utah. When I grew up, there was one elementary school (K-4), one middle school (5-8) and one high school (9-12). What this meant in practice is that while of course some kids moved away (Ryan S (winner of the 5th grade 5K with a bit of an assist from Justin W, as I recall), Billy M, Casey W) and some moved in (Travis T, Kim H, Rhett B), by and large my entire school career was spent with the same 100 or so kids. Jeanell was one of those 100.

While we were in the same grade for 12 years, my early memories of Jeanell are few and far between. I have a vague memory of talking to her and her good friend Shelly Larson (now Matthews) at the Grantsville City Park, near or on the swing set, but I can't really place when that happened and if that was the first time I met her or I had already known her.

My first definitive memory of Jeanell was when we were in the same class for the first time. We both had Mrs. Mikelson (whose husband Bill was the head football coach at GHS at the time. Bill was recently inducted into the Utah High School Sports Hall of Fame). The one memory I have of Jeanell from that year is her coming to school one day and announcing that she had had a dream that we were all at a dance and she was telling each of us who we were dancing with at the dance. Sadly, as I recall, I was not who she was dancing with in her dream. I also remember that she was not one of the girls who stomped on my fingers as I attempted to scale the High Tower at recess, causing me to fall. I guess that's a plus.

(In this day and age, it is hard to believe that in the mid-80s, we had a playground toy that was just a tall platform, just high enough to get seriously injured if you fell from it. Fortunately for me, I did not fall from the top of the platform, but from the chain ladder that allowed you to ascend the platform with my outstretched hands at the level of the bottom of the platform. Not so fortunately, I did flip backwards with my feet staying entangled in the ladder and landed mostly on my face. It was the last day before Christmas break and I believe by the time we came back to school I was mostly healed).

The next time our paths crossed was when we were both in Mr. Camp's 6th grade glass at Grantsville Middle School. Incidentally, this is Jeanell's first memory of me. I don't really have any other memories about her from that year. I just know that we were in that same class together.

I didn't really get to know Jeanell until she started dating my good friend Dave our freshman year of high school. That's also when we started having more boy-girl parties and Jeanell hosted many of those at her house on Deseret Circle. A few memories stand out from that time period.

The first is that our group of friends put together a number for the annual Lip-Sync Assembly. I can't remember what other songs we discussed, but we finally landed on Madonna's Vogue for our number and recruited our classmate Greta Griffiths, who we all had nicknamed Madonna, to take the central role. I didn't then nor do I now know the words to that song so I'm not sure how I lip-synced to it. I don't remember much of the choreography, but I do remember we all wore white gloves and that at one point in the song we attempted to put our hands together to form a giant "V", but we weren't as precise as we needed to be and it ended up looking more like a "U", or maybe even just a smile. We didn't win. (My brother-in-law Cam, who is two years older than Jeanell and I, and his friends did an epic lip-sync to "Bohemian Rhapsody" that same year. I'm pretty sure they won).

I can't remember if it was at one of the rehearsals for "Vogue" or at a different gathering at Jeanell's house, but I do remember that on one occasion, a few of us guys had found the hoop shoot game on the east side of their house and began playing it, seeing who could get the best score. At some point, Jeanell made her way over and wanted to take a turn. Soon after the timer started, our jaws dropped, as the only thing more impressive than the speed with each she was able to rebound the ball and fire off another shot, was the remarkable consistency that each shot richoceted perfectly off the backboard and through the hoop. She handily beat all of our scores, at which point I think we decided to do something else, rather than be humiliated further.

My final memory is from a party at Jeanell's house. At that time in my life, there were three songs I knew how to play on the piano, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata (like my dad),  The Righteous Brothers' Unchained Melody, and the song that was most associated with me, the theme from Cheers. Whenever I was somewhere where there was a piano, sooner or later I would be sitting at it and playing one, or more likely all, of the songs I knew, and probably more than once. Where I only knew three songs, I'm sure this got old for my friends, but I didn't seem to mind.

Jeanell's family had a piano in their front room and so sure enough, as we were all over there for her party, I eventually made my way to the piano and began to play. At some point, my buddy Aaron came and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me backward, tipping the piano bench onto its back legs. As it turns out, there's a reason that piano benches sit on four legs, because as soon as it went back on two legs, they snapped. I remember Jeanell's mother Carol hearing the commotion and coming down to see what was going on. She's a wonderful pianist and I'm sure was none too pleased that we had broken the legs on her piano bench, but she of course didn't outwardly display any anger.

I always felt bad about it. Some time after that, Jeanell and I started dating and I remember every time I went to her house I would see a chair sitting in front of the piano and remember that I had broken the bench (or at least played a part in breaking it). Even several years later, when we started dating again my junior year of college, I believe there was still a chair at the piano. I don't remember exactly, but I don't think it was until after Jeanell and I were married that Carol got a new piano (and bench).

Looking back, we didn't really have a whole lot of interaction until high school, and even then, I don't have a lot of memories of our interactions our freshman and sophomore years. That would change when we started dating at the end of our sophomore year. But that's a story for another time.

I am first on the left in the third row. Jeanell is third from the left in the front row (wearing her Dallas shirt that she probably got from Uncle Scott).

Neighbors

This last Sunday, I noticed some cracking in the ceiling of my garage. We've lived in our current home longer than any other home we've lived in (we've purchased three homes in our married lives, we bought a home in Ogden, where we lived from 2002 to 2006, then a home in Elwood, where we lived from 2006 to 2013, and now we've been in our current home since 2015), so this was a new experience for me and I wasn't sure if this was indicative of some kind of problem or just a normal part of home ownership.

I texted my neighbor Rob on Monday.

Me: Hey Rob, sorry to bother you. I noticed this in my ceiling in my garage and just don't know how big of a concern it is. Any thoughts?

Rob: Hmm, looks like cracking. I can take a look tonight when I get home.

That evening, right after dinner, Rob was at my door, along with his son Zach, who just got his general contractor license. They came into the garage, surveyed the damage, and quickly reassured me that they had dealt with the same thing at their house and that it was most likely just part of normal house settling.

That was really all I was looking for, was whether or not it was a problem, but Rob and Zach wouldn't leave it at that. They insisted they could fix it. Within a few minutes, Zach was in my attic with a flashlight and other tools and Rob had brought over his saw along with a few boards of various lengths. In no time at all, they had cut a board to the needed length, attached it to a truss in the attic, and then screwed the drywall on the ceiling into the bottom of the board. When they came into the house to get into the attic, they saw that we had something similar in our kitchen ceiling and insisted they could fix that too. Zach has been back a few times this week, to apply plaster and texture it to complete the repair.

This is far from the first time Rob has come to my rescue.

Feb 1, 2018

Me: Hey Rob, are you around? Can you call me if convenient?

Our downstairs shower was stuck with the water on and we weren't really sure what to do about it. We had also stripped out the screw on the faucet trying to get it off because we didn't have an allen wrench of the right size. Rob was headed to a basketball game, but came over, helped us cut the faucet off and told us the part we needed to get and replace to fix the problem.

Nov. 18, 2019 (9:13 PM)

Me: Sorry to bother you so late. Are you around? Do you have a 1" crescent wrench?

I think this was just a running toilet, a problem with the flapper. The old flapper had to be cut off in order to replace it. Rob was over within ten minutes, helping me fix the problem. If I recall correctly, he also bought us a new flapper the next day at Home Depot (he just happened to need to go there anyway, or at least that was his story).

May 13, 2020

Me: Are you home? If you have a minute, I have another problem in my backyard and could use some advice.

Rob: I am on my way home still, I should be home shortly. Absolutely, I would love to come over and help. What is it in regards to? Drip lines? Sprinklers? Or do you need me to dig a hole?

(As Nate Bargatze says, digging a hole is impossible, and here Rob is offering to dig one without even being asked).

Oct 10, 2021

Me: I'm sorry to bother you on the Sabbath. Do you happen to be home?

Rob: Yes, I am home.

Me: Ok if I call you?

Rob: Yes

I don't even remember what this one was about, but I know that whatever it was, Rob helped me with it.

May 5, 2023 (9:22 PM)

Me: Hey Rob, are you home? And awake?

Rob: I am awake, but I'm not home. I'm on my way home. I should be there in about 25 minutes. What's up?

Me: Can I call you?

Rob: You bet!

I had had some topsoil delivered on the road in front of my house and was worried about someone not seeing it and running into it. Rob helped me put some reflectors on the pile so people would be able to see it.

Rob, his wife Jenny, and his whole family have been wonderful neighbors to us over the years. Hopefully everyone has the opportunity to have a neighbor like Rob.

As I've been thinking about the blessing Rob and his family have been to us over the years, I've also thought about other neighbors I've had in my life.

I can't talk about neighbors without mentioning my "neighbors to the south" for the past nearly nine years. We live next-door to my brother/brother-in-law and Jeanell's sister/sister-in-law and their kids. Though with each of our busy lives, we don't interact and spend as much time together as you might think, they are always there for us when we need them and I love having them so close. Our backyards are adjoining with no fence in between and I love that our kids (the self-proclaimed "doubins", for double cousins) can and frequently do go back and forth between houses through our backyards. I love hearing a knock at the backdoor, opening it up, and seeing Cate there to inquire if Nellie is home.

One of my favorite memories was when Emma (my niece who is the same age as my daughter Lila) was over late one night as they were waiting for Mr. (Matt) Price to send the email for the casting for the production of the musical "Freaky Friday" that they were going to be a part of at their school (Excelsior Academy). It got to be after 11:00 and they finally gave up and decided the email wasn't going to come that night and Emma left to go home, through the backyard. Ten seconds after she left, the email came, and Lila sprinted out, with Emma sprinting back, meeting in the backyard and opening the email together excitedly. Lila was cast as the mother and Emma as the daughter. They were so happy.

Who knows what life will bring, but I hope that we are next-door neighbors for many years to come. 

In Elwood, we lived next to Kirk and Vickie Day. Kirk had built the house we lived in as a spec home and was always there to help us out in any way we needed. He poured our back patio and a basketball court in our backyard (at a heavily discounted rate). He helped me put together and install the basketball hoop I bought for our court. He would plow the snow in front of our house with his tractor. He helped me numerous times with water getting into our basement.

And of course there are the neighbors we had at the home I grew up in on Eastmoor Drive. Tom Tripp and Lyle Lawton have been our neighbors for years and have helped us in so many ways over the years. Tom puts up and takes down my mom's Christmas lights (among many other things) and Lyle recently helped my brothers and me put down plastic and rock in the flowerbeds between the wall and the sidewalk north of my mom's house. Lyle is over 80. I remember Lynn Young (who lived behind us on Main Street in my younger years) fixing our old Blue Bomb years ago.

My dad went to prison for a year (maybe at some point I'll get into that story, but I won't go into details here) when I was a junior in high school. There are two people in particular I remember helping us at that time (though I know there were many).

Jerry Aldridge would take care of our cars and make sure they were running well. When we would be planning a trip to visit Dad (he was at Nellis Air Force Base near Las Vegas), Jerry would come and make sure the Komfort Koach (the big blue van we drove at that time) was ready for the trip.

But maybe the most selfless neighbor we had was Warren Archer, who lived next-door to the south (along with his wife Edwina and mother Mildred).  Warren would participate in hikes to Deseret Peak well into his 70s, often wearing shorts that some might describe as a tad too short.

When my dad went to prison, Warren, who was already retired at the time, worked the job my dad had prior to going to prison in order to hold it for him when he got back, and gave the earnings from that job to my mom to help pay the bills. Like Rob, Warren also knew how to fix anything. I didn't live at home at the time, but a favorite story my brother Kevin has related was how some kind of leak sprang in our basement bathroom and Kevin was trying to stop it and yelled to Brent and McKell (my two youngest siblings), "Go get Warren!"

In the age of social media, I find it easy to get caught up in the things we don't agree on. Our differences in beliefs on politics, religion, etc. can make us feel divided. But I think we need to remember that people our generally good and our willing to go out of their way for the benefit others. So grateful for good neighbors.

Zach is to the right of me and Rob is kneeling on the right.