Chapter 3 - High School Years

My sister married when I was 10.  Vera and her husband, Dan Heiner, were so good to me.  When I became a Boy Scout, they gave me a sleeping bag, which I have used for years.  As a teenager Dan would take me fishing with him at his family cabin on the Upper Provo River.  On the opening day of fishing, he and his 6 brothers would all go fishing at daybreak, and soon return with their limit of fish by breakfast time.  Most of the fish were just legal size (6-7 inches long) and their wives would fry the fish and pile them on platters in the middle of the table.  Oh, how good they were.  You could just pick them up with your fingers to eat the whole fish, bones and all!  I had many happy days at that cabin.  There were even a couple of horses that we could ride.   Later, when Jeanné was Laurel leader for several years, Vera used to let us take Jeanné’s  girls to the cabin one Saturday each year.  We would go up for the day, stay overnight, and then all go to church at the Woodland Ward the next day.  I went along as chaperon!   Those were some fun experiences – with enough scary stories told by the girls Saturday night to last until the next trip;

 

I was in junior high when my brother went on his mission to Australia. When World War II broke out in 1941, all missionaries were returned to the States to complete their missions.  Bob was transferred to the Northwestern States Mission.  At that time missionaries traveled overseas via steamship and my parents took me out of school when they went to see him when his ship arrived in Los Angeles as he was being transferred to his new assignment.  What was difficult was for me was to try to catch up with my Latin class after returning.   I never really did!

   

Bob & Wally  1938

 

During the time I was in junior high and high school none of my friends or neighbors ever rode a school bus.  We always walked.  The only schools that used busses in those days were those in rural areas (i.e., Granite High and Jordan High.)   I was never given a ride to school (my father always rode the trolley or bus to work) and "car pools" were unknown. No one ever gave walking a second thought.  There were a few kids, who would ride the city transit bus on occasion, but they were the exception, and that was usually done on stormy days, or if sick, etc.   Very few students had cars in high school, and those that did just parked them on the street.  Uintah elementary was only about three-fourths of a mile from my house.  Roosevelt was about a mile and a half, with East High approximately a mile away.  Sometimes I rode my bicycle to Jr. High.  Problem was that there is a very steep hill between 11th and 13th East on 9th South.  Multiple gears on bikes were unknown then so it was a quite a bit harder going up that hill than using the multi‑speed bikes of today.   I rode my bike straight up that hill.

 

Being several years younger than my brother and sister, when Mom and Dad took vacations, they were in school, or whatever, and I went with them alone.  I don't recall ever being on a vacation with Vera or Bob.   When I was in my teens, possibly while Bob was on his mission, we drove to the National Parks in Utah, Arizona, and Wyoming.  My mother had a extreme fear of heights, so she would never let me get close to the edge of the canyon! 

 

In Yellowstone we slept in a small wooden cabin.  The cabin was just large enough to hold a couple of beds and a small wood-burning stove for warmth.  I remember one time going fishing at Fishing Bridge with my father.  We rented a small motor boat and trolled for the longest time, but never caught a fish.  Neither my father nor my mother could swim, and I don’t think either felt comfortable around water. 

 

Our cabin in Yellowstone National Park

 

On one of thise trips we visited Cardston, Canada and Waterton Lakes, and Glacier National Parks.  It must have been during or shortly after the time that President Franklin D. Roosevelt was president, as a park ranger we gave a ride to through the park, told us how the government had spent over a million dollars building a road into a certain picturesque area so President Roosevelt could be taken there in a car (he was crippled from polio).  When President Roosevelt came he didn't have time to see it!  I am sure many others have enjoyed that road since!

My father's half-brother, Uncle John, was an obstetrician.  He lived, with his family, in Portland, Oregon.   I went with my parents to visit him at least twice.  On one of those visits we visited Vancouver Island and the city of Victoria, Canada.  Butchart Gardens is a short distance east of Victoria, and I fell in love with that beautiful place.  It was a trip I will never forget.  We took the ferry boat from Port Angeles to Victoria on the way there, and then from Victoria to the city of Vancouver on the return trip.  It was such a memorable trip, I have been there several times with my wife and family. 

 

            I continued taking piano lessons for several years into my teens at the home of my teacher, Gladys McGibney.  She lived on Diesel Road (about 16th East & 9th South.)  I learned to play quite well, but in all of my training, I really never did learn to sight-read.  Gladys always insisted on me memorizing my pieces, which was fine, but I would have liked to have learned to sight-read music better.   Gladys had a couple of Cocker Spaniels, and learning of my fondness for dogs, she gave me several books of dog stories that I read with a passion.  I especially enjoyed the books written by Albert Payson Turhune (author of Lassie) about collies.

My family was not wealthy, but we always had everything I ever wanted.  My parents were very good to me.  There were two special presents I received from them: an Erector Set, that I played with for hours, and, when I was older, a Chemistry Set.  My father bought me some lumber from a plan that came with it from which I constructed a work bench.    I was very proud of my "chemistry lab" under the stairway which led to the basement.  I cut a hole in the bench and inserted a sink using a metal bread pan (sadly it would rust as we didn't have plastics then.)  I cut a hole in the pan, soldered a short ¼^” pipe to it, and attached a rubber hose to drain into a gallon bottle.  I made a small "blow‑torch" from an alcohol lamp with which I could make all sorts of things out of glass tubing.  At a local laboratory supply store I bought many additional pieces of equipment, such as Pyrex beakers & flasks, etc.  In those days they would let you purchase single items of this type.  While kids today may have many advantages over what I had, suppliers today won’t sell laboratory items in less than a dozen any more, so today I would have never been able to have the experiences I had. One thing I purchased was a glass condenser with which I could make distilled water.  It was through my enjoyment of, and experience with, my Chemistry Set that I ended up first in Chemical Engineering and later in Pharmacy.  It was amazing what I learned with that chemistry set.  When I took a science class in Jr. High, when my teacher would perform some chemistry experiments before the class, he was amazed at how much I already knew about them.

One of the special things I remember about junior high school was the time I got a small speaking part (I had one whole line!) in the school play.  That was really fun!   At East High I joined the R.O.T.C. because my doctor had found a heart murmur and advised me not to get involved in active sports.  (I still have that murmur today, so it doesn’t seem to have hurt me too badly.)  Considering my excellence in sports, that didn't hurt my feelings too much!  I earned the position of Platoon Sergeant my senior year in R.O.T.C.  I really enjoyed my senior year.   I joined the dance committee and helped decorate the gym for our school dances.  As I look back now I wish that I had participated in even more school activities than I did.  I graduated from East High in May 1943.  I was still 16 years old.  I turned 17 in July. 

In leaving my experience at high school, I would like to copy a insert written in my year book by one of my favorite teachers:  “Dear Wallace, Here’s every sincere good wish to a student whose friendship I shall always hold in high esteem.  Never lose that smile of yours that is contagious as a yawn.   Dorothy Simpson”

 

My father owned and operated the Campus Boot Shop, a shoe store that sold shoes for the whole family.  Dad let me start working at his store during the Easter season prior to my 15th birthday.  I sold shoes for Dad, off and on, for the next 15 years.  I would generally work during holiday seasons (especially Mother's Day, Easter, and Christmas) and during the summer months when school was out.  In all honesty I have to say that selling shoes was not something I particularly enjoyed.  Dad's store was located at #1 East Broadway, on the northeast corner of Main St. and 3rd South ("Broadway"), downstairs.  The building originally housed a bank, later occupied by the Owl Drug Store.  It was Schubach Jewelers while I worked there.  Today it has all been replaced by a multistoried office building.  Dad's store is described in more detail in the biography I wrote about him, but one thing that I might add is that, during the summer months the store was hot and dusty.  Whenever there was any breeze at all, dust off the street would blow right down the stairwell and into the store.  This really bothered me, as the only thing I am really allergic to is dust.  The "air conditioning" that Dad had in the store was provided by some large floor fans, along with an early‑model evaporative cooler.  It had to be filled with water with a bucket, and since they didn't have pumps to circulate the water through the filter like today, a handle had to be cranked frequently to wet the absorbent towel‑like material.  This material was looped up and down on an endless belt, passing through the reservoir of water in the bottom.   Air would then blow through the wet material to cool it.  It was not terribly efficient, but it worked and we all appreciated it.  I am sure that those two disagreeable items (dust and heat) did little to provide me with fond memories of working there and is probably why I didn't develop a desire to follow in my father's footsteps in the shoe business!    Perhaps these all added up to the reason that I had no desire to make a career out of Dad's business, as my brother, Bob, did.  One time I asked Dad why he didn't move to a ground‑level store.  His answer was that at the prices he charged for his shoes the cost of rental for a ground floor store would be prohibitive.

 

1754 Laird Avenue – 1942

 

The year I turned 16 our family moved into a new home oat 1754 Laird Avenue.  I took up the hobby of photography and I built a dark room in the basement and spent many hours using it.  I would develop and print my own black and white pictures.  I don't recall what I did with the equipment I purchased at that time ‑‑ I may have sold it when I was married ‑‑ but when we moved into our home, on Evening Star Drive, I built another darkroom and purchased equipment again to continue my hobby.  My cousin, Leo Thorup, had worked for an engraving company during our High School years, and I used to watch the men make engraving plates, which is also a photographic process.  I tried to get my son, John, interested in photography but it was short-lived.  John did work for a local firm that specialized in commercial printing for a while.   I finally sold all my photographic equipment in 1996 to a girl in Florida with an ad I placed on the Internet!

I felt it wise to get into the university so I enrolled in University of Utah in June 1943 for the Summer Quarter rather than waiting until the Fall Quarter.  Since my birthday is in July, I was still 16 when I entered college.  Like most boys my age, we weren't looking forward to military service, and I had hoped that I might get into some "program" like the military service had offered the in the past -- with the opportunity to become an officer.  My brother had entered the Navy under such a program from which he received a commission as an Ensign a year or so prior to this.   Unfortunately all of those programs had now been discontinued.

At the University of Utah, I enrolled in the School of Chemical Engineering and did very well scholastically during the Summer Quarter.  In the Fall Quarter, I was "rushed" by the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity.  Both my brother and my brother‑in‑law, Dan Heiner, were Pi Kaps, which almost made it certain that I would be rushed.  When I look back upon that experience, it was among the most foolish thing I ever did.   At the time it seemed such a wonderful opportunity.  The problem was that I began to spend too much time at the fraternity house, and my school grades started to show it. There were other factors involved as well, least of which was the impending military draft that I knew I was facing when I turned 18 the next July.   The country was doing well enough that in my eyes (most young men I knew at that time felt much the same way) I was going to end up being "cannon fodder;" replacing those men who were being killed in the war.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to defend my country, but to end up being a foot soldier who could easily be shot wasn’t that appealing.  Together with the time I was spending at the fraternity, this all caused a lack of interest in my schooling with the result of poor grades that Fall Quarter.  I failed the first class I ever did in my life – Calculus.  I tried calculus again the next quarter, but the teacher assistant I had was a poor substitute for the excellent teacher I had failed under, and along with my poor attitude I didn’t have a chance, so Winter Quarter was even worse.  I guess you could say I lost interest in school.

Since I was having a poor time concentrating on school, I decided not to continue during the Spring Quarter, and went to work for my father instead.  During this time, the fraternity wanted me to go "active" and so Dad allowed me time off for the initiation.  What a miserable experience!  I went through the "hell" that initiation required (at least then) and became a full‑fledged member of Pi Kappa Alpha.  After getting my head on straight, and acknowledging the poor effect the fraternity had had on my life, I think I only darkened the door of the fraternity house one time after returning home from the Navy. 

My cousin Leo and I were quite close before our going into the military.  We purchased a model‑T Ford together -- and had a fun fixing it up. We painted it bright yellow and drove it around as much as we could.  Since there was gas rationing, it was difficult to get gas for it, but we managed to find some now and then.  A model-T would run on diesel fuel.  The man who sold the car to us had it sitting on blocks for several years.  He sold the car to us for $40 ‑‑ $10 for each of the tires which he had recently purchased!

One of the last things I did prior to entering the Navy, in the spring of 1944, was to go on a fishing trip with Leo.  We drove our Model-T up to the Smith‑Moorehouse River and camped out for about a week.  We made a tent, sewing it out of white muslin, and waterproofing it with paraffin dissolved in gasoline.  It was passable at best -- but it sufficed our needs.  At that time there was just a dirt road along the river -- the Smith-Moorehouse river empties into the Weber River.  We camped at the end of the road where, today, there is a lovely paved campground.  At that time there was nothing.  Having my usual success fishing, and becoming bored as teenagers are want to do, we decided one evening to break camp and head home.  We started back about dusk.  It was about 10:00 o'clock, near Kimball's Junction, when the gears in the rear end of our yellow car broke.  In a Model‑T Ford the brake pedal operates a brake that surrounds the drive shaft rather than the brake drum on the wheel.   When you press on the brake it slowed the drive shaft, rather than the individual rear wheels.  The hand brake operated brake shoes on the wheels which just acted as a parking brake.  Without the gears in the rear end, the wheels were, in effect, no longer connected to the drive shaft and therefore in free wheeling!  There was still the hand brake, but it was designed to hold, not stop, so it was of little use in slowing down, let alone stopping the car.  The motor also was no longer running -- as we had turned it off ‑‑  a mistake, since the lights ran off the magneto, rather than working off a battery.  Thus, when the motor stopped, the lights no longer worked.  I explain all this to help you understand what happened next – it was dark by now. 

Since we were virtually stranded, we began pushing the car.  The road is relatively level at that point.  Also the road had just two lanes, not as wide as it is today.  We pushed it until we came to the hill leading up to Parley's summit.  We thought perhaps we could thumb a ride from a truck, hoping that we could get someone to tow us to the top of the hill where we could coast down hill from there.  A truck accommodated us.   We tied our car to the back of the truck with a heavy tow rope we had, about 2 inch diameter and 20 feet long.  The truck pulled us up the hill - probably faster than we had come down!  We were elated to not have to push the car up hill, until the truck didn't stop at the top as he was asked to!  We had no lights to flash, or horn to honk, to get the truck drivers attention, and it was obvious that we could not control the car at that speed, particularly going down hill.  So, while I steered, Leo took a long hunting knife, climbed out on the hood of the car, and cut the rope!  By this time we were careening down the canyon at a pretty high speed for a car without brakes.  I should explain, at that time the road through Parley's Canyon was a two‑lane highway that followed every turn and twist of the river.   It was now very dark, and the only light we had was a flashlight and our only brake was the hand brake which we used only to try to slow down on the more sharp curves.  Fortunately by this time it was well after midnight and as luck would have it we didn't pass any cars traveling up the hill!  Otherwise we may have been in a lot worse condition than we were, as we were veering all across the road in our attempt to 1) stay on the dark road, and 2) control the speed at which we were traveling!  The car finally rolled to a stop when the road leveled out at about the location of the Portland cement plant two or three miles from the mouth of the canyon. 

We finished our trip home by one pulling (using the rope) and the other pushing the car until we happily arrived home safely about 2 o'clock in the morning; completely exhausted.  Leo, being a few months older than I, was drafted into the Army right after that and I never saw our little yellow car again.  He later told me that he had taken the car somewhere and pushed it off a cliff! 

Sometime during the late spring of 1944, I learned of a Navy program that was available, if you qualified.  As I said, I was not too anxious to join the Army (I had also had enough marching in the R.O.T.C.) so I investigated the program and discovered it was for the Radio Materiel Program, which trained radio technicians for the Navy.  Having no experience in electricity, I wasn't sure if I could qualify, but the Navy recruiter gave me a book (about the size of a residential phone book) to take home to study, after which I was to return and take a test.  If I could pass the test I would qualify to join the Navy and receive the schooling offered.  There was so much information, foreign to me, in the book.   I had no idea where to even start.  After a perfunctory glance through it, I set it aside ‑‑ I have often said I studied for that exam by opening the book and using it as a pillow to sleep on ‑‑ but I took the test anyway.  The test was multiple choice.   The recruiting officer, watched over my shoulder and if I was about to answer a question incorrectly, would say, "Are you sure that’s what you want?"  So I passed the test!  (He obviously had a quota to reach . . .)  I was sworn in the Navy that day, and left on the train the following day, July 11, 1944!  Just one day prior to my 18th birthday!  There were three other men who left Salt Lake with me for the same destination.