From Steve: 

Distant and not so distant memories of one of the solid bricks in our family's foundation. 

Because of the age difference and the distance in miles between us I do not have as many of memories of Liz as I would like to have, but they are precious to me. 

I'm going to work my way back from the present.  Mary Lynn and I had the wonderful experience of spending time with her in Idaho a couple of winters ago to help her with some things that she didn't feel  physically capable of doing on her own.  With her approval we cleaned out her art room and reorganized it so that she could work in it again.  We spent the day telling stories and laughing more than we worked.  She was so appreciative of the things that we helped with that we felt that she did more for us than we did for her.

I made several patterns for dad over the years for his marquetry.  One winter I made a drawing of a sheep wagon.  Father had complained that he was tired of doing spoked wheels so I did the wheels without spokes.  Liz looked at the drawing and told dad, "you can't have a sheep wagon wheel without spokes," and redrew it.  I later asked dad why he let her do it to which he shrugged his shoulders and replied, " I wasn't telling her." 

In past years when talking to Liz on the phone I would try to screw my grammar up knowing that she would correct me, my response was, "what ever."  She later realized that I was baiting her and refused to play the game. 

Liz and I at one time had a slight addiction to computer games.  We would call each other and brag about our scores.  Which meant that whoever had the lowest score spent the rest of the day trying to get a better score.  Unfortunately I got too busy and had to give it up, but I missed those times of nonsense as mother would call them. 

Liz told the story about when she was in Powell to teach that she took an art class from my old art teacher and friend Bill McRann.  Bill was a very hands on teacher and liked to demonstrate technique on your canvas rather than try to explain it.  He felt that a visual was better than words, he did not know Liz very well and she informed him not to touch her work.  Bill was apparently shocked but adhered to her wishes.  They became very close friends, an easy thing to do. 

I visited Liz when she was at the University of Wyoming, (the second time).  She was living in a small apartment with her entire brood of children in what I like to call organized chaos.  She was amazing, I don't know if she was always like that, but she was calm in a situation that would put most in a straight jacket.  I was always so impressed with that short visit. 

I can hear the laughter and feel the joy of her and mom playing duets on the piano on a Sunday afternoon after dinner, (for novices, noon was dinner, evening was supper). 

I can see Liz and Louise standing at the kitchen counter doing dishes, gossiping, laughing and listening to the radio, was it Arthur Godfrey or Dinah Shore, who knows, I didn't like either one at my age, I was more into Little Orllie. 

One of the most profound influences that Liz had on my life was when she was in the high school play, Mad Woman of Shallot, I can still see her on the stage as she interacted with her male counterpart.  It made such an impact on me that I decided then that I wanted to act someday.  Approximately ten years later I was able to do that with her director, Gordon Wickstrom. 

I hope that these snippets bring a smile to your face, I hope that somewhere that there is an error tha Liz can repair. 

One more thing, Liz preferred to be called Elizabeth, Ron told her that it was such a beautiful name that it should be used.  I got away with calling her Liz, because she said I was just too big to do anything about it.   So with all due respect, Elizebeth it is. (did I leave something dangling there?)

From Louise

       Elizabeth and Louise doing the dishes - Penrose kitchen - before we had indoor plumbing - 1948 ?

I was almost 4 years old when Elizabeth was born and have a few early memories of her.  The night she was born, Aunt Cindy took Dwight and me to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s.  I don’t remember how I felt about having a baby sister.  I remember I slept in a trundle bed that slid under her crib.  She was about 2 when she had a pole high chair that Daddy made.  And when she was about 5 or 6, Aunt Sofe gave her a little quilt that she made with something about Queen Elizabeth on it. 

When Elizabeth was about 4, she joined in with Dwight and me in “inventing” an imaginary family.  The three of us were eating raisins and acting silly, making funny faces while we were chewing the raisins.  Then we came up with names for our faces, like Pig Face with our lips pulled together, Funny Goo – by wrinkling the nose. They became the parents of Big Goo, using the corners of our mouths, then Little Goo - one corner of the mouth tightened and Little Goo (twin to Little Goo) with the other corner – you had to watch to see which one was speaking.  Then there was Smiley Man – a hired man, you guessed it, big smile. And last came Squeaky Man, another hired hand. But we fired him, it was too hard on the throat to make his voice.  With this imaginary family we made up all kinds of stories for months, exciting adventures, some in far off lands, and even in an underground city.

Elizabeth was a part of all that, but later, when we were living in Ralston, Dwight and I gave her a bad time with our telling her about the time we had gone to France and had a friend named Pierre and made up all kinds of stories about him.  She was not sure if she should believe us, but we were very convincing.  She asked Mother if it was true, but Mother just smiled and wouldn’t say.  I don’t remember how long we got away with it.

It wasn’t long, though, that Elizabeth and I began to do things together and made a lasting friendship.  First, it was paper dolls that we played with by the hour, sitting on our bed and laying out the dolls and clothes and play acting. We played school, using some of mother’s things from her teaching.  I was the teacher.

We went for cows in an upper pasture, and it was a time of sharing secrets.  Elizabeth was a good listener. She patiently listened when I was determined to write the “Great American Novel” at age 12 or 13 as I read to her my silly attempt.

When we were in our teen years there were two occasions when something special came in the mail: The Spring and Fall “Monkey” Ward catalogue.  There was a particular protocol in looking at the catalogue. In order to keep anyone from being the first to look, we sat on the couch, with Judy and Elizabeth on each side of me, and the catalogue on my lap, and we solemnly turned the pages.

 One of both Elizabeth’s and my special memories was doing the dishes together.  We didn’t necessarily like doing the dishes, but we would talk and giggle, which sometimes disturbed Daddy’s after lunch nap.

The last several years our friendship grew even stronger as we shared our accomplishments in making quilts.  She had a special talent in creating artistic masterpieces.  One of the best times was when we worked together in making a quilt for Dwight’s retirement, and spent many happy hours hand quilting it.

I will always treasure the long phone conversations when we discussed important things, like our favorite movies or tv shows; and there were memories, to which I was always amazed at her incredible memory of people and details of events.  And of course, we solved the problems of the world.  The best part was laughing together.

Top photo is of Elizabeth in the doorway of our first Penrose home. Middle photo is Dwight and Elizabeth discussing who should be in control of the pitchfork, bottom photo is Elizabeth and Dwight discussing how to appropriately use the doll buggy. Will add more to the photos over the next few days.

 From Judy

Elizabeth:

Her home attire was jeans rolled half way up her calf, a cotton shirt with the tails out, her saddle or penny loafer shoes.

She had long pigtails.  I don’t know whose decision it was, but Mother cut her hair.  She suddenly became grown up with curly hair. 

I watched her enter stage L, wearing Grandma Wasden’s big hat, a long dark dress, and using a folded parasol as a walking stick.  I was convinced.  She was the Madwoman of Chailott.  She worked so hard to make that happen.

Here’s Elizabeth cutting across the backyard, a book tucked under her arm and headed for the tree house in the willow at Emmie’s.  If I walked behind her quietly, I thought she wouldn’t notice me and let me climb up in the tree with her.  But she would send me back to the house so she could be alone with her book.  Until one magic day she allowed me to go with her.  Sitting in the willow with her was complete big girl satisfaction.

She knew where the majority of books were located in the Powell Public Library.  Visiting frequently helped her to remember. 

When Elizabeth left home for college, I missed her like crazy.  When she came home for Christmas break, she took me to the high school Christmas pageant which was based on the Nativity minus Joseph.  We duly noted that on our way home. The night was freezing cold so we borrowed long johns from Dad to wear to bed.  Attired in such we jumped and bounced all over our bed singing, “Where is Joseph?” and laughing our heads off.  At that point Dad banged on our door and told us to “pipe down” which sent us into more uncontrolled giggles.

She was fun.  “Where is Joseph?”, “Just Knock Three Times and Whisper Low”, “One Night Ma, Pa, and I were sitting in the living room and there came a knock at the door”.  Otherwise known as “Esmerelda”.

She was the one who told me that I needed to read the scriptures.  She was the one that made me say my prayers at night.  And she was the one who made me stay on my own side of the bed.

We will be sisters forever.  And sometimes since Jan 5^th, I feel like she isn’t far away at all.

 

Elizabeth – I’m not sure where to start. As my older sister, there were many things I idolized about her. She was  smart, talented and often seemed fearless.

From Penrose. She was assigned to clean my little bedroom as part of her Saturday chores. She thought I was kind of messy and wasn’t real happy at the prospect. However, she seemed to find a way to make it work by hiding the book she was currently reading in one of the shelves, and when she thought she wouldn’t get caught, she would read a page or two, all the while claiming that my room was such a mess.

She could play the piano – really play the piano. However, Mother was always encouraging her to sit up straight. I then took on the role of enforcer, although not by assignment. I loved to walk up behind her and poke her in the middle of her back and tell her to sit up straight. So annoying.

When I was in the first grade, riding the school bus was scary so Elizabeth would let me sit with her. She was my protector.

Elizabeth’s art work was beautiful. She took a high school art class from Mr. Baron and her assignment was to paint a picture of the mountains. Her mountains had a purple/blueish tint to them and he informed her that mountains never looked like that. In the kitchen that night there was quite a discussion about the color of mountains. Even today, when I see the mountains with a purple/blueish tint to them I think of Elizabeth.

When Elizabeth came home from her first year of college she brought a turquoise colored stuffed poodle to sit on the bed, and a few things she had learned outside the classroom, to share. One was the story of Miz Melda, that she told with her top lip folded in over her top teeth that drove Dad absolutely crazy, and another was a song that she taught us as we worked in the strawberry patch. That one drove Mother crazy. And how we laughed about it all.

When she was living in Riverton, I went to stay and take care of Brig when Pat was born. The things I remember most are first, we drank Kool Aid every night with dinner. When I asked her why, she said that growing up we could each only have one glass of Kool Aid (because that was all there was) and we only had it on really hot days after working outside. She decided then and there that when she grew up she was going to have Kool Aid whenever she wanted it. Next was instant chocolate pudding with Dream Whip on it. At the time, that was one of the best things I had ever tasted.

There were times when she came to Utah and stayed in our home. We would talk and laugh in an effort to catch up on our latest sewing projects, or just life in general. One time, the movie “Jaws” had just come out and Paul couldn’t talk me into going with him. However, he found a willing partner in Elizabeth. I couldn’t believe that she would go.

After she came home from Germany, she was living in the Sorensen home in Lovell until she found something in Powell. Paul and I decided we were going to go visit Mother and Dad in Tumwater. At the last minute I got the “bright” idea that we needed to go to Tumwater by way of Lovell and pick up Elizabeth and family. She was excited to see Mother and Dad, Judy and Bob, so she was a willing participant. We didn’t give any thought as to what Mother and Dad would do with all of us at the same time. We had a van that seated 14 people, and so off we went. We laughed about having the van full of 10 kids, 2 women and 1 man in a van with a Utah license plate. Hmmm. That was a fun adventure.

I don’t remember her complaining about life when things were hard. I do remember her always looking for a new project, something to make, something to grow.

There are several projects that I have sitting on a shelf waiting to be made. Elizabeth’s influence was definitely behind the purchase of some of them.

A few years ago I had the “bright” idea about how to collect wool fabric for some of the applique projects I wanted to do. So, one day when we were talking on the phone, which we did quite frequently, I told her about my trips to D.I. to buy clothes made of 100% wool. Then I was deconstructing them, washing the wool in hot water and creating a nice supply of felted wool fabrics. She immediately caught the vision and joined in the project. On one of her trips to Orem, when Ron came with her so he could attend the Wood Turners’ Conference, we went to DI. Then we sat and with our trusty seam rippers, took apart items of wool clothing so we could share. Her collection far outweighed mine.

She loved fabric with strawberries or flowers like violets on them and every now and again she would tuck a little piece in an envelope and send it to me. Such a treat!

Elizabeth was the family genealogy memory bank. When I would run across the name of someone I didn’t recognize, I would call her and she could trace the family line to where that person fit in. After a while I would just say something like “really” or “ok” because she would have lost me about four generations ago. Wish I had her memory.

When I would call she would say “Hello Sunshine”. It always made me smile.

My last visit to Preston was very sweet. She talked about how her life was changing and how she didn’t really have the passion for so many of the things she had loved to do. She was missing Ron terribly and wished her family lived closer. We went through her books and found books that I already owned. Her frustration with trying to learn how to use her new sewing machine had taken the fun out of sewing, and she didn’t have any interest in finishing her projects. We laughed about the different block of the month projects she had signed up for and then forgotten about until little packages began coming in the mail.

What I will always remember about Elizabeth is she was an amazing friend. We didn’t always agree on things, but that didn’t matter. She overlooked my faults and loved me and I loved her, no matter what.