FLIGHT TO TERROR

Before WWII, while I was a student at Cal Tech, the government was attempting to increase the number of available pilots. They had a program which paid for college students to take flight training as part of their studies. I took advantage of this program. After I had soloed, I would be sent out to practice spins and figure eights. We would do the figure eights around a chicken farm in San Fernando Valley.  It probably scarred the chickens to stop laying!

On one occasion I had been practicing my spins over what later became the Disney studios.  To spin I would pull the stick back and throttle down the engine until the plane stalled and would kick the rudder so it would fall off to one side and begin to spin.  On one occasion as I got ready for another spin I realized that I was past due to go do the figure eights.  Since I was still at a high altitude I would spin down to the lower altitude. Starting my spin, to my horror, I realized that my propeller had stopped and the engine had stalled. We were trained to always be aware of where we could have an emergency landing if one became necessary.  I looked down and it looked like the best place for an emergency landing would be in the dry riverbed wash.  At that altitude it looked like a good choice.

I didn’t want to use the parachute and loose the plane. I decided that would be a good time to test the possibility of starting the engine by wind-milling.  I went into a vertical dive, hoping to start my engine. As I lost altitude, the prop turned over, but did not continue running.  That was tantalizing and I decided to continue the effort to the last possible moment. As my altitude dropped, I realized that the point of no return was approaching when it would be too late to make a dead stick landing. Besides, what had looked like a nice landing spot from high altitude turned out to have big boulders which would have made for a disastrous landing.

At the last possible moment the engine started and I pulled out of the dive, dangerously close to the ground. I was too shaken up to try the figure eight and so I headed for Grand Central airport and made an extremely sloppy landing. I rushed in to the instructor and breathlessly said, “my engine stopped.” He looked up over his desk and said, “think nothing of it.”

We had our choice after 35 hours of instruction and soloing to get our private pilot’s license of skip that and continue flying up to 50 hours. Since I knew I could afford to keep a license open, I chose the latter and enjoyed using up the hours sight-seeing and circling my girl friends’ houses.

CADDYING FOR GRANDPA

Since my mother was widowed for many years, Grandpa Richards spent more time with us than most of my cousins enjoyed. He used to pick me up to caddy for him at Nibley Park. Early one morning, before it was light, he picked me up and we started down fairway one. It was still so dark that I had trouble seeing where the ball went. To our surprise, President Heber J. Grant was coming up fairway two.  I don’t know how they managed in the dim light.  When President Grant saw grandpa, he called out and said, “I beat you again, President Richards.”

One afternoon I was caddying for grandpa and grandma.  He was in kind of a hurry because he had to get back for a meeting at Church headquarters. We were stuck behind a foursome that were hunting for their balls in the rough. Grandpa asked them if we could drive through. They leaned on their clubs and watched as grandma wacked the ball onto the green. One man asked if it would be too impertinent of him to ask how old his wife was.  Grandpa proudly said, “No, she is 75 years old and has had 15 children.”  She could still beat some of her daughters at golf.  At that time she was matron of the Salt Lake Temple, and among his other duties, Grandpa was president of the Salt Lake Temple and of all the temples of the church.

MY WIFE, MARY

For six years after losing Lois I was a widower. On October 17 of 2009 my-sister-in-law, Mary Eriksson & I were married. I was age 91. My family who had always called her Aunt Mary now recognized her also as their stepmother. Bob decided to call her Aunty Mom.

We were first acquainted when I came for her sister on a date. Mary was eleven and embarrassed Lois by calling out, “are you going to marry George?”  Little did we realize that both of them would eventually marry me.

While we were obviously acquainted for almost 70 years, neither of us had the slightest expectation of any greater relationship. One Thursday morning, while making an entry in my journal, a strange strong impression came to me. I even wrote it down.  I felt that I should call Mary the next Saturday. For days it continued to weigh on my mind as I got up the courage to do so.

When Saturday came I made the call. I asked her if she was sitting down and said that if she wasn’t she had better do so. Then I suggested we consider the pros and cons of getting married. After she got over the shock she said she would think and pray about it. We had not seen each other since my 90th birthday party over a year before. After several days she concluded it was a strange—but good idea.

She was living in Cedar City and invited her son, Jeff, and his wife, Jocelyn to dinner to discuss something with them. At dinner Jeff asked her if she was considering moving back with them. Then she was astonished when Jocelyn shocked her by asking her if she was going to marry George. Such a possibility had never been given consideration.  Mary asked her what had made her ask that, and she replied that she had had a feeling for over a year that  it was going to happen.

Mary was only able to get rides down to St. George a couple of times, but we spent hours talking on the phone, sometimes up to five hours a day. 

Our first two years of married life have been hectic with health problems and serious accidents but we have helped each other through those difficult times. Her cheerfulness and thoughtfulness have been a great blessing to me.

OUR HERITAGE

 My children and I, as well as the younger generations, have been greatly blessed with a rich Church heritage. It obligates each of us to strive to live up to that legacy rather than boasting of it. Where much is given, much is required.

As senior members of the Counsel of the Twelve Apostles each of my grandfathers died six months before they would have had to assume the burden of Church president.  Grandpa Richards’ father, Franklin D. Richards, also served as President of the Twelve. He compiled the original Pearl of Great Price.  Three of my uncles, Abram Cannon, Sylvester Cannon and Legrand Richards, also served in the Twelve.  Willard Richards, prominent in early church is my great-grandfather by sealing.

Grandpa George Q. Cannon served as alternate counselor in the First Presidency with Brigham Young, and as first counselor to Presidents John Taylor (his uncle), Wilford Woodruff and Lorenzo Snow.  President Woodruff considered him as the father of Utah statehood for his labors in congress and with Abraham Lincoln.  He was one of the founders of Zions Bank, ZCMI, the power company and numerous other companies.

We are from pioneer stock. Grandma Cannon walked all the way from Nauvoo to Salt Lake except when men had to carry her across rivers. There she was baptized as she turned eight. I used to ask her to tell me again of the buffalo that chased her.

My father and mother were also exceptional people who I will write about elsewhere.

You should also be proud of your Eriksson heritage, which like hybrid corn, brought strength into the family.

OUR EIGHT CHILDREN

Lois and I had hoped to have an even dozen children.  We knew that a large family was not considered politically correct, but we believe that the biblical command to multiply and replenish the earth had not been rescinded.  We were only blessed with eight wonderful children: George, Hugh, Erik, Ann, Robert, Christopher, Laurel and Donald.  We lost our precious little Ann at age one.

Our family has grown to 37 grandchildren with their spouses and expanding in number of great grandchildren. I lost count of the latter after 40, but it must be over 50 by now. There were two recent births and three on the way. I feel I am one of the wealthiest individuals on this planet because I have this great eternal family. It is so sad to see struggling old people without helpful, loving family.

Grandpa remarked that the Cannons run to boys and bulls. He loved the boys but wished for cows on the farm.  After losing Ann and a string of boys we hoped for a daughter. As I walked down the hospital hall to see Lois and our new born Laurel I could hear patients in the various rooms laughing because they could hear Lois rejoicing loudly, repeating “did we really get a little girl?”

OUR FIRST DATE

Cal Tech students were rather nerdy so dance classes for us were furnished.

Girls from the local college were recruited as partners. Lois was one of those recruits. I asked her for a date. We attended Pasadena Playhouse. After the play we drove to the popular Big Boy Drive-in. Lois ordered tea because it was the cheapest thing on the menu & she knew I was not flush. That gave me an opening to tell her about the Word of Wisdom & the Church. She said a strong impression came to her to listen carefully to what I was about to say because it would change her life. Up to then all she knew about the Mormons was that they had settled Salt Lake. By the end of our discussion she had a powerful witness that the Gospel was true. That never wavered or left her for the rest of her life. It was very late by the time I returned her home that evening. That didn't sit well with her concerned parents but they soon overcame it.