0TTO WALTER GYLLING

by Arzella F. Gylling   

Otto Walter (Valdemar in Danish) Gylling, or O.W., or Walt, as heis commonly known, was born 5th of October 1881 in Hyleasted, Denmark.  He was born of goodly parents, Jens Peter and Petronella A. Carlson Gylling.  Walt was next to the baby in the family of fifteen children; only nine grew to maturity, and five were born prematurely.  There were two sets of twins, but only one twin, Olena grew to maturity.  (Four boys and five girls lived to full stature.) 

Theirs was always a religious family, belonging to the Lutheran Church, before the Missionaries began calling at their home.  The Missionaries were always made welcome in the humble home.  James C. Berthelson, who later became their son-in-law, and P.B. Green were the main ones in bringing the family into the Church.  Mother Gylling was the first to be baptized on 23 May 1801.  Father Gylling followed a little later on 9 August 1891.  The older children left Denmark and came to America before any of the family heard anything about the Gospel; only one of them joined the Church.   

They weren't allowed to baptize in the day-time, so all baptisms had to be done after dark.  It was 25 March 1892 when Walt was baptized; there were huge blocks of ice floating down the river, after being cut up above to keep the river from flooding the land, so some one had to stand there and keep the blocks of ice away while the Elder baptized him.  He wi11 never forget how cold it was, but he never took cold from it since his soul was filled with warmth from the inside.  Carl, the baby of the family, was baptized 22 March 1893.  They were all anxious to go to America, where they could enjoy religious freedom, and get away from compulsory military service, and to go where moral standards were higher. 

The two missionaries who baptized and confirmed Otto Walter Gylling were: 

               Elder M.P. Sorenson,                       Elder P.G. Green,

                who baptized him 25                        who confirmed him

                March 1892 in the                          25 March 1892

               River in Denmark 1892    

Walt had a very eventful childhood in Denmark; although he left there when he was twelve years old, there were places and events that stood out vividly in his memory.  The only schooling he received was in Denmark, to the fifth grade, which was equivalent to the eighth grade in America.  It was easy for him to learn and he was a brilliant student, according to his sisters.  At their school Christmas parties, special invitations were required and these were given only to the children whose parents were considered to have the most means.  Walt remembered his sisters getting an invitation once, but he didn't, so he went and stood on the outside and tried to see in.  This always seemed hurt him, because he had been told at school that those with the highest grades would receive an invitation, and he was among the highest scholastically in his class.  Because his parents were poor, however, he was never invited.  They never had Christmas like we have nowadays, and they never knew what it was like to receive a gift.  If they got some cookies, or a little sweet bread, or something out of the ordinary, that made a wonderful Christmas for them. 

His parents had to work hard in order to have something for the family to eat and wear, but he can never remember going hungry.  Several times, when her baby was only three days old, his mother would go back into the fields to work.  She would leave instructions for the older children at home to follow.

His mother always wanted her children to attend church meetings on Sunday, even if she couldn't go.  One Sunday afternoon, Walt was told to attend church.  On his way, he met and saw a large crowd going skating.  Oh! how he wanted to go, but he knew he shouldn't.       His mother had told him to go to church, and he had been taught to obey.  Seeing so many going, however, the temptation frew so strong that he followed the crowd.  He got out to the lake and was having a lot of fun, although he didn't have any skates.  He was having such a good time that he didn't notice there was a place where the ice was thin and that it was being avoided by the others.  He soon went too far, and in the lake he went.  He couldn't swim and he kept grabbing the edge of the ice which would break.  Everyone was afraid to go close enough to help him, for fear they would fall in too.  Oh! how he wished he had listened to his mother and had gone to church, but it was too late.  Many things raced through his mind, but the thing now was how was he going to get out, or would he be able to.  Finally, a man with a cane ventured out as far as he dared and held out his cane; Walt took hold of it and finally got out.  He was chilled clear through and had a long way to go before reaching home.  He made his way home as quickly as possible, all the way hoping his mother wouldn't be there when he arrived.  He knew he would be punished for disobeying.  His father was there and helped him take off his wet and frozen clothes.  His skin was almost rubbed off his legs by his frozen pants.  His father did not punish him , feeling he had received enough punishment.  He dried his clothing, gave him some warm soup and got him all warmed up before his mother returned home.  She did not learn of the event until several days afterward, when he still got his punishment.  She was a good, kind mother, but she believed that children should learn to obey, so that when she was away they could be trusted.  This was a lesson in obedience, one he was never to forget, because he had nearly lost his life.   

Walt worked herding cows the last three summers he was in the Old Country.  He had many experiences which he will never forget.  The first summer he received eight crowns, which he spent on a pair of shoes, having to depend on his parents for the rest of his clothing, since he was not paid enough to pay for all of his clothing. The second summer he was paid ten crowns, and the last summer he lived there, he received twelve crowns. 

One day he heard that the King and his company were traveling through the country and towns.  He walked and ran all day to get to the town where the King was to pass. Very tired, he reached the town just in time to see the carriage in which the King rode, complete with footmen and guards on big, beautiful horses. The entourage was just leaving, and Walt did not get to see the King, but he returned home happy to know he had been close to him.  This was quite a thing for people in those days to experience and it was an honor.  He also remembers that, as one of the boys working on a farm, it being his first day at work, he went in to the dinner provided by the owner of the farm.  He was the first one in and the lady put a very large bowl of flour mush on the table and told him to go ahead and eat.  Well, the boy ate and ate and ate and, finally with tears in his eyes, he looked at the lady and said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but my mother always told me to eat everything that was put before me, but I just can't eat all that mush."  The lad was relieved to learn that it was the custom at that house to put all the food in one dish on the table and everyone ate from it.  This mush was to have been dinner enough for all the men. 

On the farm, the workers followed a definite schedule. After breakfast of hot milk and bread, they went to work.  At 10:00 a.m., a whistle blew and everyone quit work to eat a mid-day snack, usually a sandwich and drink, and then back to work.  At noon, they came in for a dinner of potatoes, gravy, meat, vegetables and dessert.  After dinner, they took a nap and were called at 1:45 for cake and coffee, and then back to work until 4:00 p.m., when the whistle blew again for a mid-afternoon snack of a sandwich and drink (beer, coffee, milk).  They then worked until 7:00 p.m., when they went in to supper which was a light meal of whatever was left over from dinner.  Walt does not remember whether they ate again before going to bed, but I'll bet they did, don't you?  He said they always fed their horses every time they quit to eat during the day.  They also milked the cows three times a day.  They really worked hard between snacks, as all work was done by hand in those days.  Men and women worked together in the fields in order to get the crops planted and harvested.

WALT'S VOYAGE TO AMERICA:  Walt left Denmark on his twelfth birthday, 5 October 1893, in the care of a missionary, P.B. Green of Plain City, Utah, who is 91 years old at this time and living in Idaho Falls, Idaho.  The ocean voyage on the "Alaska" was long and rough.   Walt spent most of his time, while crossing the ocean, hidden under a canvas in a life boat fastened to the top of the ship.  He was very sea sick.  He was traveling with a woman and her son, but this woman did not pay very much attention to him.  It was a good thing he wasn't discovered in the life boat.  His guardian angel was watching over him, because he could have fallen overboard, and no one would have known what happened to him.

It took a day to unload after landing at New York City.  They left New York City by train on the long trip to Utah.  The lady Walt was traveling with got off the train in St. Louis, Missouri, so Walt traveled on to Utah alone.  The woman had given him fifty cents.  He spent twenty-five cents on the train for some lunch, and arrived in Ogden, Utah, with twenty-five cents left.  He arrived in Ogden sometime in the morning and there was no one there to meet him.  His sisters, Olena and Botilda, had called the depot and had been told that the emigration train would not arrive until afternoon.  So Walt wandered around the depot, bought some grapes and cookies for fifteen cents.  He stood around eating his fruit and cookies, and waited for his sisters to come.  His sisters had arrived some time before from Denmark and were both working in Ogden. 

Olena was working for the wife of an apostle, and Tilda was working in the home of the owners of a fine meat market.  In the afternoon, Walt's sisters arrived and they all had a happy reunion.  Walt stayed with Lena for a few days before going on to Plain City to P.B. Green's home.  Walt related that, "when he came after me, he was driving a fine team of black horses, and we went to Plain City where I made my home for the next three years". 

Young ladies in those days always wore long dresses.  In telling of the trip Olena and Tilda made from the Old Country, it was related that Tilda made a short dress for Olena, so she could pass as younger and travel for half fare.  This worked fine and, after arriving in New York and boarding the train for the West, they could both be grown up again.  After she had changed her short dress for a longer one, she threw the short dress out of the train window, not knowing what else to do with it.  They laughed when telling the story, because they could have put the short dress with their other clothing.  It had been made out of beautiful material and they wished many times that they had saved it to make over into something else.   

Walt stayed with the P.B. Green family for a while.  They were crowded because they had two children and were expecting a third.  Walt and the oldest boy, Luman, five years old, slept together.  Luman and his wife recently came to the Mesa Temple where he met Walt by chance, the two of them not having seen each other for over 57 years. 

After leaving the home of P.B. Green, Walt went to live with a brother-in-law of Green, a man by the name of Abraham Maw.  He worked for his board, room and clothing, milking cows, gardening and helping their daughter, Florence, who was about his age, with the washing, turning the washer for her and doing other odd jobs wherever needed. 

The Maw family was a very fine religious family.  The rule in the family was that the children were to be in by nine o'clock, but Walt and Florence had been coming in a little later, so Brother Maw said that if they weren't in by nine this Sunday night, the doors would be locked.  Walt was playing at the city block after church and, at five minutes to nine, he started running the four blocks to home.  He didn't make it in time and found the door locked.  His feelings were hurt, but he went back and played around some more.  He stayed all night with one of his friends.  Florence hadn't made it home in time either, but they let her in.  They would have let Walt in also, but he hadn't asked.  The next day, Walt came and got his clothes, saying that he was leaving to stay with another family.  Florence laughed, saying that it was funny, but it wasn't very funny to him.  He stayed away only a short time, coming back knowing that this family was the best after all. 

In the fall, he helped gather to crops, picking apples and hauling them to Ogden to market.  He had many happy memories of the three years he spent in Plain City, and of the good people he was with. (In June, 1927, the summer after we were married, we took a trip, taking Gladys, Luella, Garda, Norma, Clara, Irvin, and Dennis, up through Utah and other places, and visited Plain City, with the folks there.  Again in 1950, when we took Dorothy and Vaughn to Salt Lake City to enter the mission home before going on their mission, we drove up there on Sunday afternoon.  We visited with Henry Maw, who was about the only one of the Maw family left.  We found out that P.B. Green was still living in Idaho Falls, so the next day we drove up there to see him. We couldn't spend much time, as we had promised to be back the next day, and Dad Knight was with us and had a severe attack of Asthma.) 

REUNITED WITH HIS PARENTS.  ln the meantime, Mother Gylling and Carl had come over from Denmark, and landed in Sanford, Colorado, as Tilda was living there then.  (James C. Berthelsen had lost his first wife, and later wrote to Tilda and proposed to her, so she decided to go to Sanford and marry him.  Olena then went to San Francisco, California, where Marie was living, and this left Walt along in Utah.)  The Gylling family could come over from Denmark only a few at a time, work and send money to help one of the others come, until the entire family had come.  Father Gylling was the last to come.

In the fall of 1896, Walt left Utah and came to Sanford with his parents.  That was a happy reunion.  He had seen them for three years, and having been with English-speaking people the entire time, he had almost forgotten the Danish language, as he had been speaking English all the time.  When he met his folks, he couldn't talk to them for a while, but, in a few days, it all came back to him.  Many years later, when Walt and Carl were doing very good in business and had accumulated considerable money, some men were talking one day, remarking how well they done.  One said, "And you know, these guys couldn't even laugh in English when they came to this country."

Walt rode the train from Utah to La Jara, Colorado.  He got in a wagon to go to Sanford.  It was cold and what roads there were, were muddy.  It really wasn't a road, just a cut-off through the country.  When they neared Sanford, Walt got off the wagon and ran the rest of the way.  The mud was so deep, he could hardly move, but he knew he could make better time on foot than on the wagon.   

His first winter in Colorado, Walt spent with his parents, working here and there at anything he could find to do, to get enough to eat and wear.  Times were hard; there wasn't much money, and wages were poor.  He would work chopping wood all day for twenty-four cents.  He would take a dozen eggs to the store for a due-bill, to get money to buy a dance ticket.  His mother made shoes of seamless sacks to protect his feet.  Earlier in the fall, Walt and his father worked on a threshing machine, bucking straw.   

Walt and Jimmie Berthelson were just like brothers.  Jimmie and his sister, Mae, were in the home when Tilda came.  Walt and Jimmie would take the team and wagon of Jimmie's uncle, S.C. Berthelson, and would haul wood from the west hills.  They would haul a load for S.C. and, then, one for them.  In the mean time, they would saw and chop the wood for S.C. for twenty five cents per day, which he thought was big wages.  They also hauled lots of rock for the Sanford Church, which was in the process of being built.  Walt helped his father and mother build a log house, their first home in the Valley.  Later, he and Carl helped them build a nice adobe home, where they lived very comfortably in later years. 

In the spring, Walt ran away from home.  He got a little peaved over something Carl had done, when his mother took up for him.  He went to Alamosa and worked for a farmer, west of Alamosa, for twelve dollars a month, but had to wait until the next spring to receive his money.  In the summer, he hopped a freight train and went to Littleton, this side of Denver, and got a job haying for money, good board, and room.   

He returned home around his birthday, 5 October 1897.  Soon afterwards, he went up in the Bowen country, this side of Monte Vista, and worked for a fellow by the name of Pound.  Jimmie, George Rasmussen, another fellow, and Walt all worked there, sacking grain, peas, etc., then helped with the threshing.  They were about half through with the threshing when a big snow storm came.  They couldn't work, so they decided to go home.  George had an old gray mare and sled to take them home, but the snow was so deep, they almost never made it home.  Later, when the weather cleared up, Walt went back up near Monte Vista, worked for a fellow, looked after his place, and hauled grain to Monte Vista, and did chores, and stayed all winter.  He earned a wagon and harness, which he repaired and got in first-class shape in his spare time.  He gave this to his father for the cost of his fare from Denmark, which was about $112.00.   

While working on this place, he put in many hours alone.  Jimmie would come by once in a while and they would shoot rabbits and have hot biscuits.  One night, Walt dreamed that a mouse ran across his face, and he grabbed it and threw it on the floor.  The dream was so real.  The next morning, he thought he would look and see if I had been dreaming or not.  And, sure enough, there was a dead mouse on the floor! 

In the spring of 1898, he helped put in a crop for Mr. Pifer, on the Frank Russell place, now owned by Clark Hutchinson.  He was promised $18.00 a month, but never got a cent.  A year later, he got 1,000 pounds of oats, which was very little pay for the time he had put in, but he was lucky to get anything.

In the fall and winter of 1898, he traded for a team of horses from Filo Carter.  He went to Summitville with Bill Brothers, and worked cutting timber for the mine.  The next summer, he noticed that the stumps he had left were eleven feet high.  The snow was that high when he had cut the timber.  He earned enough money to pay for the team.  He came home around February 1899, and bought a nice harness from Bill Braiden, on time, for $40.00.  With his team and his father's wagon he hauled hay from the Harvey Ranch (now Weir Smith's place). 

Later, he went to South Fork, where John Anderson and his sister, Carrie, were living.  John was hauling ties, and Walt got a job hauling ties, also.  He boarded with the Andersons.  Carrie was real good to him.  Andy Anderson, a nephew of John and husband of Olena later in 1900, was working up there also, operating a saw.  One day, he left the saw running.  Walt did not notice and walked into the saw, almost cutting his hand off.  Andy felt so bad.  Walt had to quit his job and come home in June for a couple of months while his hand healed.  He had traded for thirty-three acres of land from J.C. Berthelson (the first land he ever owned), rented a team for twenty-five cents a day, bought a plow for $12.00, and plowed the land while his hand was healing.  Andy had felt so bad that he quit his job and ran Walt's team and wagon while Walt was gone, trying to make money for both of them.  Andy didn't understand how to brake a wagon coming down with a load.  When Walt returned, he found his wagon wrecked. 

In the fall, Walt bought another wagon from Braiden Hardware Store, for $140.00, on time.  By this time, he had paid for his harness and plow.  He went back up to South Fork, on the Rio Grande, to work and to board with his sister, Carrie, and John Anderson.  It was tough going.  There was much snow and it was hard work hauling railroad ties and lumber from the saw mill to South Fork.  It got so tough that he returned home in 1900. 

Now he had a team, harness, and a new wagon, and lacked just $40.00 of having it all paid for.  He traded his team and harness to J.C. Berthelson for $200.00 in land to be delivered down at Marianna, New Mexico.  He had the wagon left and S.C. Berthelson recommended he sell it to Will Beals whom he said was strictly honest and a good trader.  Walt took a note from Will Beals for $112.00 for the wagon.  Walt still has the worn-out note, for which he has never received a cent.  The old man skipped the country, and was not heard from for several years.  When he did show up years later, his mid was mostly gone.  He died a year later, and only about a half dozen people attended his funeral.  It pays to be honest and upright in all your dealings with your fellow men and with God. 

Walt now had some land, but no team or wagon, so he went back up to South Fork to work for Galbrath's.  He bought a team of bay mares, a wagon and harness. for $250.00, which he paid back at the rate of $25.00 per month.  He worked back and forth on the farm and South Fork (where he made his first wedding stake) until 1902 when, on April 9, he was married to Loshia Elizira Lloyd.  To this union nine children were born.   

While working at South Fork, sometimes, he would ride his dicycle down to Sanford to attend a dance after work.  On one occasion, he started out after work and got to Sanford just in time for the dance.  After the dance, and after he had taken his girl home, he would start back to South Fork without any sleep.  One time, he got back as far as Del Norte and was so tired and sleepy that he could go on no further.  He put his bicycle over the fence in the willows and went to sleep.  This was about ten o'clock in the morning.  He woke up about four in the afternoon and rode on in.  This was when he was hauling lumber for so much per 1,000 feet, so it was up to him if he made anything. 

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The following history of O.W. Gylling is repeated in his words as dictated on October 15, 1966: 

Two winters before l got married, l was working at South fork.  I was hauling lumber from up Decker Creek.  This was on Christmas Day.  I was all loaded up.  I was driving four horses.  Just as I got ahold of the lines and upon the load, I noticed the two leaders began to act up.  I looked over about twenty-five yards away and saw two mountain lions, just looking me right in the face.  There was about three feet of snow on the ground and they were hungry.  I drove on down and was glad to get away.  This was one close call.  One I have never forgotten.   

I married Loshia Elzira Lloyd, 9 April 1902, and took my wife to South Fork, Colorado, where I was hauling lumber and rail road ties for Charley Galbrath.  I was paid so much per 1,000 feet.  The lumber mills closed down in August so we returned to Sanford.  My wife was expecting and not feeling too good.   

On New Year's Day, I decided to take Loshia for a sleigh ride to see her folks.  They lived in the far south part of town and we lived in the north.  On the way back, the team ran away, it being a young, frisky team.  I held them to the road but could not hold them down.  They ran right through ditches, as there were no bridges in those days.  This was a rough deal for Loshia, for in a short time she started having labor pains and our first child, a son, Rudolph Helmer, was born a short time after midnight, 2 January 1903.   

I was called back to work the last of January or the first of February, and stayed about six weeks before I returned home because it was so cold and the pay was poor.  This, was the last time I worked at South Fork.  The snow would melt in the daytime and we would get all wet.  Then I would get home late at night, my pants would be frozen to my legs and I could hardly get them off.  I would put them under my bedding and, after sleeping on top of them all night, I would be able to put them on the next morning.  It cost me $1.00 a day for board and 1.50 a day to feed my team.  I was paid only $4.00 a day.  I just couldn't take it at that rate, as I still owed $112.00 for my team.

After I quit work at South Fork, I worked on the farm and hauled lumber from the east hills.  I borrowed $112.00 from Rudolph Carvolic, the President of the bank, and paid the balance on my team.

Our second son, Carl Wilford, was born 20 June 1904.  Later, our first girl, Clara, was born 3 September 1906. 

The following spring I sold my team and my land, and had a little money on hand.  My brother, Carl, had bought a lot on main street, had hauled gravel, and had started to build a meat market.  He didn't have money to go ahead, so I bought him out and finished the building, put in meat, and later a fountain.  The first ice cream I made I didn't put enough salt on the ice, hence churned the cream. 

I had a contract with B.S. Reynolds who furnished meat at six cents a pound.  The most I ever received for selling the meat was ten cents per pound. 

I sold the fountain to Carl, who had built a bowling alley on the south of the Trivola Hall, then owned by Swen Peterson.  The Trivola Hall was a large dance hall built with 82 automobile springs under the floor, the only one in the Valley.  People came from all over to attend the dances. 

After selling the fountain, I put in groceries along with the meat mark et. I did a very good business.  As business grew, I needed a larger building, so I bought a half interest in a larger store owned by C. Poulsen.  Later, I traded my half interest to Swen Peterson for Trivola Hall and the bowling alley which Swen had bought from Carl. 

Swen Peterson had a general merchandise store which he sold to Chris Cornum when he was elected County Treasurer.  It was a co-op store at that time, which Chris ran for a while before he got too much owed to him on the books.  People were hard up and couldn't pay their bills so he, in turn, got in bad with the people he bought from.  He closed the store.  Swen, still having an interest in the store, came down to check on things.  We paid Chris $1,200, or in that neighborhood, for his interest and took over the spoils, and I had a half interest in it.  We found out later that the merchandise we took over had very little value, as it included such things as odd sizes, so we didn't get much out of it.  We put in drugs on one side of the store, and Dr. Skinkle from La Jara came over once or twice a week to check them over.  We did all right while living in Sanford. 

The first car I ever owned was a one-lunger Cadillac.  Dr. Skinkle and I were the first to own cars in this part of the Valley.  It was such a novelty, as everyone wanted to ride in it on Sunday afternoon.  They would all line up and I would take as many as could hang on for twenty-five cents each.  The only way we could buy gas in those days was in five-gallon cans from the drug store.  Later, I traded for a Great Smith.  From that time on, we have always had one or two cars in the family. 

I used to take the Sanford band in my Great Smith to play for dances at Logereta where John Anderson lived.  They had a big red barn with a good floor in the attic, where people could dance.  One time, we had the drums tied to the back of the car.  Somehow, they came untied and we lost them and they were never found. 

When World War I broke out, there was talk that the Church was going to ask such places as the Trivola Hall to be closed down.  Well, I couldn't afford to do that, as we had moved to the farm and thought we could run both the hall and the farm.  I did sell the hall to the Church for $4,000.00, or maybe $4,500.00. There were always a few people in the Church who found fault and made something out of nothing, like when I first bought the hall and put in restrooms -- one on the south for the men and one on the north for the women.  Some people said that was the worst thing they had ever heard of. 

The hall was operated by the Church from that time on, but it was never properly maintained and became run down.  There were still many good times and dances enjoyed there, but the springs would break and not be repaired, and the floor was never again the pleasure it once was to dance on.  The bowling alley was abandoned and, as time passed, the Trivola Hall was also abandoned. 

The first Church work, or job I had in the Church, was janitor for the Church building in Sanford for four years.  I worked with Lyme Carter and a brother Canty.  The only pay we ever got was when a dance was held, which was about every Friday night, and we got $2.00 for preparing the building.  The three of us divided this $1.00.  The school janitor was supposed to clean out the ashes from the stove every Friday night, but this very rarely happened.  The Deacons were supposed to prepare the Sacrament, but so many times they failed to do so, and, at the last minute, we had to do it. 

When I had put in three years as janitor, I asked Bishop Crowther if I could be released.  He said he would see about it, but it was another half year before I was released. 

Before selling the Trivola Hall to the Church, I had held dances, ball games, shows of traveling groups, and other entertainment.  We had a very thriving business but had to put in many long, hard hours.  We made all the ice cream, which I was able to do successfully after my first experience at it.  Sometimes, I would have a double orchestra.  One orchestra was the Troy Sowards Orchestra from Manassa, consisting of Troy Sowards on violin, Janie Jarvies on piano, John Jarvies on drums, and Willard Sowards on cornet.  The other orchestra, the Sanford Orchestra, consisted of Eugene Mortensen on cornet and trombone, Alma Crowther on violin, Leah Kirby on piano, Wilford Canty on drums, and Raymond Junt from Alamosa on clarinet.  Sometimes, Tom Driesdale would play cornet and A. Winters would play flute with the Sanford Orchestra. 

We really drew the crowds, as it was a pleasure to dance on that floor.  We used to hold bowling tournaments and, at one time, Carl and I were the champion bowlers of the Valley.  I can truthfully say that I always ran a good, clean business and people today will remark what good times they enjoyed there.  It was kept in first-class shape. 

In the meantime, four other children were born to us:  Viola on 18 November 1908, Clarence Alfred on 26 July 1911 (who died on 30 July 1911), Gladys on 2 August 1914, and Luella on 17 March 1916. 

I bought eighty acres of land at Bountiful and we moved there. While living at Bountiful, one more child was added to our family.  Garda was born on 15 July 1918.  In the fall and winter of that year, there was an outbreak of influenza, a very terrible disease, from which people were dying like flies.  Our family got it, as did the Lloyd family.  I would take care of our family and, then, would go to Sanford to care of Loshia's family.  Her brother, Orson, died from it.  I prepared his body for burial, as there were no undertakers in the area in those days.  Other members of the family were seriously ill and I did not know who might die next.  However, after many days, the rest of the family recovered.  It was a sad and trying time. 

In the spring of 1919, I sold the Bountiful place and bought a farm owned by Dan Newcomb one- half mile west on the Capulin road.  I made a down payment of $10,000.00.  The house was in terrible shape and required extensive repairs to the sagging floors.  The house must have been built on a snake den, because when we went under the house to do the repairs, we found rolls and rolls of water snakes.  We thought we had them cleaned out; however, all the time we lived there they kept coming out at times.  There was no poison available in those days to use to control them, so we just had to keep on fighting them.  We did very good as far as the crops were concerned, but the price we received was very poor. 

Norma was born on 30 November 1920.

Because I was unable to make the fourth payment on my note with Mr. Newcomb, who had passed away, I went to his widow, Mrs. Newcomb, and requested that she lower the interest rate from 12% to 10%, to enable me to keep the payments up.  She said "Mr. Gylling, I will give you all the time you need, but I must have the 12% interest."  I told her that, in that case, I would be glad to deed the property back to her.  I then gave her $1,000.00 for the lease for the next year.  I found out later that I could have farmed the land the next year and let her foreclose.  I could have had another crop without paying her a cent.  But, I have always been honest in all my dealings and don't think I would have felt good about it. 

During our fourth season on this farm, we harvested good crops again, but the prices were still very low.  On the last of January, 1923, the boys and I were out in the yard and there was still quite a bit of snow on the ground.  We saw a man walking all over the farm.  When he came into the yard, I saw that it was Aaron Hawkins.I asked him what he was doing and he replied, "I just leased this farm, and I would like for you to be off by March 1st.  "This was a great blow to us.  Mrs. Newcomb had never said a word to me, and I had supposed that I could lease the farm again the next year.  We had to find another place to move onto and this was hard to do this late, as most of the farms were already leased this late in the spring.

We found a place north of Monte Vista.  We really had to hustle around to repair this place to get it ready to move into, and we got moved by March 1st.  The house was small, but there was a bunk house, which we fixed up so some of the family could sleep in it.  Before we moved, we held a sale at the old place and, the morning of the sale, there was eighteen inches of snow on the ground.  But, Helmer dug snow out of the lane and out of the yard as best he could.  Bill and I got busy and moved the machinery around.  We had a good crowd and held a good sale. 

I was called to be President of the YMMIA in the Richfield Ward in the fall of 1919.  Leonora Knight, the mother of my present wife and the wife of John S. Knight who was Second Counselor in the Bishopric, was President of the YWMIA.  Art Guymon and Cleve Rumsey were my counselors.  We really had a good Mutual during the next two years.  I was released upon moving to Monte Vista. 

We were very lonesome up there at Monte Vista.  There was no Church and it was too far to drive to Richfield.  My sister, Carrie, and her husband, John Anderson, lived on up west of us so we visited with them often.  We had good crops and the prices were good.  In the fall of 1922, we let the two older girls, Clara and Viola, stay in La Jara with Iva Silfer and attend school, where they had been going.  We were crowded anyway.  Clara was married on June 16 1923 to Irvin T. Nissen, living in Alamosa, Colorado.   

In the fall of 1923, I leased the Pete Peterson place four and one-half miles west on the Capul1n road, and we moved back to La Jara.  I was called to be President of the YMMIA in the Richfield ward again on 7 December 1923.  On 5 October 1924, I was called to the Superintendency of the Richfield Ward Sunday School.  On 7 December 1924, I was called as Second Counselor in the Bishopric of the Richfield ward, serving with David E. Shawcroft and John S. Knight, First Counselor. 

Having good crops and being financially able, I was called to fill a short-term mission to the Northern States Mission, with headquarters in Chicago.  I was not, however, released from the two Church jobs I already held, and this was very unusual.    

I had not yet received my endowments in the Temple, so we were preparing to go to the Temple, when I received a letter from Salt Lake, advising me not to come in but to have President James P. Jensen, Stake President, set me apart for my mission and to leave from home and go directly to Chicago.  I did this and departed on 3 March 1926.  Many things happened during this year, some happy and many sorrowful.  I received a letter from my son, Helmer, and, when my mission President read it, he said "Brother Gylling, your mission is at home, and may the Lord bless you."  I received an honorable release on 26 May 1926 and departed for home.  I enjoyed my time spent in the mission field, made many friends, and was top man in the placement of Books of Mormon.  My testimony was strengthened greatly, which helped me to face the ordeals which followed.   

On reaching home, I found that my wife, Loshia, had moved from our farm home into La Jara.  Up seeing her, she asked me for a divorce. This was a great blow to me. After talking things over with her and the fellow, a hired hand she had fallen in love with, we started divorce proceedings on 1 Jun 1926. I went to her many times asking her to reconsider for the sake of the children, as there were still four girls at home.  I told her we would move away and start anew, but she could not see it that way.  I received the final divorce on 16 December 1926, the court giving me custody of the four girls, Gladys.  I received the final divorce on 16 December 1926, the court giving me custody of the four girls; Gladys, 12 years old, Luella, 10 years, Garda, eight years, and Norma, six years old.   

Helmer, my oldest son, and his wife, Mattie, moved in with me, and helped take care of the children.  Many thoughts ran thru my mind at all hours of the day and night. Many prayerful, sleepless nights helped me to determine my future. I needed a wife, a homemaker, and a mother for my children. In answer to my prayers, I sought the company of a fine, young lady in the Richfield Ward. She was Arzella Knight, the Secretary of the Sunday School, who was very faithful in her calling. There was a big decision to make because of a difference in our ages and because of the four children at home. He had a short and congenial courtship, and were married in the Salt Lake Temple on 17 February 1927. We have had a wonderful life together. We have been blessed with six wonderful children, four daughters and two sons, and all have wonderful companions. They are all active in the church and many have served missions for the church. Most all of them have much musical talent.   

Dorothy married Vaughn N. Sowards on 4 June 1946. They filled a mission in the Southern States after they had been married four years. Since they didn't yet have children, they are able to fill their mission together for two years during 1950 - 52. They have been blessed since with three sons; Kim who is 12, Lee who is 8, and Ricky who is 5. Vaughn served in the Manassa Ward Bishopric for three years and was Bishop for eight years. And, a beautiful chapel was built under his supervision.   

Dona married George N. Sowards on 6 June1947. George filled a Spanish-speaking mission to Argentina, South America, and he served as an interpreter for the United States for six months after his mission. He came home and enlisted in the Navy, and served until the end of World War II. They have been blessed with fivechildren: Lonna Rae 18 and attending college in Flagstaff, Dennis 16,Joe 14, Tommy 9, and Steven 3 years old.   

Lola married Walter Curtis Dana on 7 May1948. They have five children: Maria Ann 17, Patricia 14, Joan11, Robert 8, and Julie 5 years old. Curt is serving in the YMMIA. Lola is President of the Relief Society.   

Lena married Lewis Arnold Bailey on 14February 1952. They have four children: Diane 12, Randy 11, Monica 10,and Arnold Walter 5 years old.   

Ivan K. Gylling married Nathel Rodney on14 May 1958. Ivan had served a two-year mission to the Great Lakes Mission during 1955 - 1957. They have six children: Ivan Walter 7, David K. 6, Trenna 5, Dane 4, Kelly 3, and Nathel 1 years old.   

J. Walter Gylling married Emily Jane Warwick on 4 June 1962. Jay had filled a two-year
mission to the Northern States Mission during 1957-59. He has served in the National Guard since 1959. From 1962 to 1966, he served as Second Counselor to Bishop John B. Shawcroft in the La Jara Ward.  Jay is now President of the YMMIA.

We lived on the Pete Peterson place which I farmed. In the summer of 1927, I bought the place that Peter Cornum was living on, two and a half miles north and one and a half miles west of La Jara on the Capulin road. I had it leveled and put up new fences all around it, as most of it was in pasture and brush. In 1931-32, we built a new fourteen-room home and moved there from the Peterson place on 25 March 1932, two days before our fourth daughter, Lena, was born.

My brother, Carl, and I had been in the produce business, buying and shipping, for some time, under the name of Gylling Brothers, Inc. The Great Depression hit. Carl had been running most of the business, while l looked after the farms. He over-bought potatoes and there was no market
for them. Things were in bad shape. I began trucking potatoes south and would bring citrus fruits back. I traded and sold in both directions and was able to keep the wolf away from the door. Carl and R.K. Finley, our bookkeeper, pulled out and started up another business, Gylling-Finley Produce, in Alamosa. Thus, Gylling Brothers, Inc., was dissolved. I took over the buildings and the spoils with $40,000.00owed to me on notes, many of which I still hold today. Many people, including friends and relatives, did not pay. I made a practice of enclosing such notes, marked paid, in Christmas cards, but no one ever acknowledged getting them. 

 
The trucking business became rough because so many licenses were required, and we had to pay fees in each of the different states we drove through. Newel Knight, a brother-in-law, who has worked for us nearly all our married life, went on the truck with me. I decided to quit the trucking business and devote my attention to the farms. I bought and shipped hogs. In June, I opened an office and business under the name of 0.W. Gylling Produce. This way, we could ship our own garden peas, which we grew, packed and shipped every summer, together with those we bought from others. I worked very carefully and had to mortgage the farm, but I finally satisfied our creditors. We gradually gained confidence and good credit, and built a good, thriving business. We would ship 125 to 150 carloads of garden peas in a season. 

When the market would weaken, I would sometimes pile up 25 or 50 carloads of peas on the track at La Jara. In this way, I was able to get a good price by selling 10 to 15 carloads to one company. The buyers all got itchy when I started pilin them up, but we were always able to get a better price helping the other shippers as well as ourselves. My son, Helmer, and son-in-law, Hartley Owsley, worked with us for four seasons.   

In the winter, I shipped potatoes and also bought and shipped hogs to the west coast. Clarinda Knight, my sister-in-law, was my secretary and we got along fine. She got married 17 December 1938, and my secretary was Marie Hawkins the following season. Marie left on a mission for the Church and Alice Peterson was my next secretary, and she was assisted by my wife, who did the book work in the winter months and took over the following season. 

I also bought a sheep herd from Glenn Jackson, which we ran for14 to 15 years, which we did successfully. Some falls, I would buy lambs and feed them out. Even after I sold the herd, I continued feeding lambs. The last time I bought and fed was in the fall of 1959. We always managed to make a little, although the death loss in the sheep business, was great at times.

Thus, we carried on from 1933 to the fall of 1944, when we bought a home in Mesa, Arizona, and moved the family there to obtain better schools and education for our children, and to be close to the Temple so we could do more for our kindred dead. In the summer of 1945, we sold the produce to a Maney Cohn of Chicago. He ran it for one year and sold it to our son-in-law, Hartley Owsley, who had worked with us for four years. He owns the business today. 

All the money received from the sale of the produce business was given to the children from my first family, and their mother. They each got S3,000.00, which was the value of my estate when I married Arzella.  I did not have to give Loshia a share, but she had no home and was divorced from her husband, Glen Snider. We had the boys buy her a home in La Jara from Deloris Nielson, and to furnish it. She lived comfortably in it until her death. She has now been sealed to me, and my present wife stood as proxy for her in the Temple.   

I kept running the farms, driving back and forth to Mesa. I sold two farms and thought I was going to quit, but I turned around and bought another one. 

In 1956, we sold the farms to our two boys, Ivan and J. Walter. I continued to manage them while the boys finished their school and filled their missions. 

Now, back to my Church work. While still serving in the Bishopric of the Richfield Ward, under David E. Shawcroft. I was released from the Sunday School in April 1927. David E. Shawcroft was released as Bishop on 13 March 1932. James N. Shawcroft was ordained Bishop and the counselors were re-sustained the same day. During the time I was working under these two bishops, we have many experiences. We were called to establish peace between members of our ward. I seemed to be blessed as a peace-maker, and we were able to establish peace, love and unity with members of the ward. I was called as President of the YMMIA, again, after being released as Sunday School Superintendent. Seems as though I have held two positions in the Church all the time. During this time, I was able, with the help of the Lord, to put over the Budget system in the ward, although it hadn't been successful before. I made a deal with our local movie owner, Ned Newcomb, for one show a week on the family budget ticket, and this, along with other entertainments brought love and unity to our ward. 

We were called as a Bishopric to visit and administer to the sick many times. We have seen many people healed who received a blessing even before we could take our hands off their heads. We were called to many places where there was a contagious disease, but not one time did any of us or our families contract the disease. I have been blessed with the power of healing in my own home, as well as for others in and out of the Church. I can bear testimony to the power of healing. 

I was released as a counselor in the Bishopric and was ordained Bishop on 16 June 1935. J. Howard Shawcroft and J. Donald Hutchins were my counselors. We worked very united and enjoyed many rich experiences. I was able to assist many families in sickness and death. Getting aid from the county, as well as the Church, I assisted the needy and the widows of our ward. I still receive much praise from members and they still call me Bishop and give praise for the things I did while I was Bishop. I am grateful for this, although I do not seek praise. What I did was in the line of service, and I felt it was my duty. 

In January, 1936, we went to Denver on the advice of Dr. J.R. Hurley, to have physical checkups. My wife had not been feeling well since the death of her mother on 22 April 1935. She had taken on a lot of responsibility for her brothers and sisters still at home. My wife was given cold shots and her arm abscessed. We were in Denver during Stock Show time and there was a lot of flu around. We had taken Norma, the youngest daughter from my first marriage, with us. She had been having terrible times with her periods, which were almost a flow to death at times. The specialist thought she could have a chance to build up her strength if she were given x-ray treatments to stop her completely for one year. The same day, they told me I had a kidney stone in my left kidney, and maybe in the right. Further tests the next day found that my wife's blood was in a very bad condition and wouldn't coagulate. They also told her she was pregnant, although she had not missed a period. They ran a rabbit test. This was quite a shock to us as we were prepared to stay only three or four days before returning to our local doctor for treatment. The test next day ruled out a stone in my right kidney, but I had a terrible reaction from the examination which gave me chills and fever. The doctors didn't know whether it was a reaction or flu. In three days they moved me to St. Lukes Hospital. My wife and daughter stayed at the hotel so they would be close by for treatments. 

With the chills and fever, I perspired so much my wife had to change the bed linens during the night. This was a difficult thing to do in a hotel. It was quite a chore to bring nourishment to me. Besides, I didn't have an appetite and only took some fluids. 

They treated me for the flu and this caused pneumonia which took three weeks to clear up before I could be operated on for the kidney stones. In the meantime, my kidney had pussed up and, when they opened me up, it almost drove them out of the room. All they could do was sew me up and hope it would start draining so they could tell if the kidney was functional. It reacted well, so in two weeks time, thru x-rays, they found the stone in the tube near the bladder. They operated again and took a portion of the prostate gland, but did not get the stone. A week later, finding the stone had not moved, I went to the operating room again. They made another incision, but found no stone. They had to use an x-ray to locate the stone. It had gone back into the kidney.    The effect of the spinal had lessened and the doctors were at a loss as to what to do. They began giving me ether, when a flush of urine washed the stone down. I can barely remember the doctor saying that he had the stone. All of this caused peritonitis and, for ten days, I was so bloated I couldn't eat anything. The only thing I wanted was cold water which I couldn't have except for a spoonful at a time, and only a certain amount a day. I know that it was only through prayers of my family and other relatives and the members of our ward, and the power of the Priesthood, that I recovered. I was in the hospital for two months, and then in an apartment for one month, before the doctor would release me to go home. While at the apartment, which Cora and Jack Johnson had helped my wife to find, Norma finished her treatments and went home in ten days. My wife had a room across the street from the hospital and would try to take me for a ride each day. We would get into the car and go a little way and would sometimes go to a cafe to eat. I would not be able to eat but a bite or two and would ruin her dinner, and then I would have to go back to the apartment. The doctors opened up my first incision and drained over a pint of pus. I now had three or four drains in me. 

 We made preparations to go home. Mr. Gordon, who owned the Gordon Store in Alamosa, was up here, so he gave me his ticket on the train and said he would drive the car home for my wife. They left about 3:00p.m., and Cora and Jack took care of me as the train didn't leave until 7:30p.m. that night. Arzella says she never had such a ride in her life. Mr. Gordon drove about eighty miles an hour all the way, and didn't slowdown for bad roads or anything else. She was sure they would have a wreck going over La Veta Pass. This was the first part of April, but there was still snow on the pass. They finally made it and she was thankful to get to Alamosa about 11:00 p.m. They had stopped in Colorado Springs for dinner and for several business appointments that Mr. Gordon had, and this took about two hours. 

Cora and Jack really took good care of me. When we got to the train depot, there was a steep stairway to climb. Jack just picked me up and carried me. I only weighed 125 pounds which was the least I have ever weighed since I was a boy. Jack got me into the berth and the porter checked on me several times during the ride home. My wife met me in Alamosa the next morning, and we were so happy to be home. 

Mrs. Nora Hansen had taken care of the children and our home while we were away, and they had might good care. 

We didn't realize we had so many good friends.  Flowers, cards, telephone calls, and visits came from some we hardly knew. I cannot mention all the names, but one I would like to mention. Arthur Fawcette came and brought Elders with him and administered to me many times. He was on a mission to the Western States. 

Mrs. Hansen continued to stay with the family, as my wife was in poor health. On July 11, our last baby, J. Walter, made his appearance. He was six and a half month baby, and weighed only four and a half pounds. He required a lot of constant care until he was three months old. The doctor said that his digestive system had not been fully developed but, in three months time, he began to get along fine. When you see him now, you wouldn't know he was ever so little. He is6'2" and weighs over 200 pounds. 

We have had many serious sick spells in our family, but the Lord has been very mindful of us and we have been able to overcome them, for which we give Him the Honorand Praise. 

I was released as Bishop on 22 January 1939. I was called as a High Councilor in the San Luis Stake. John B. Reed was President, D.E. Shawcroft First Counselor, and Luther Bagwell Second Counselor. James A. Holman was the Stake Clerk. I was praised very highly for my splendid and faithful work. I was also sustained as Stake Superintendent of the Sunday Schools. I don't know of any labors in the Church that I have enjoyed more than the Sunday School work, unless it has been working in the Temple. 

Now I would like to mention some of the labors in the Church of my wife, Arzella, as she has been very faithful in these callings. She was Assistant Secretary of the Sunday School for one year, Secretary for three years, in the Primary Association for over twenty years, having started to teach at the age of fifteen. In the Primary, she has been Secretary, First and Second Counselor, and President for three years. She has been play leader chorister. In Mesa, she has been a group leader in the Maricopa Stake for three years, Bluebird teacher in Mesa First Ward fortwo years, October 1945 to December 1946. She has worked seven or eight years in the Relief Society and many years as a Visiting Teacher in the Richfield and Mesa First Wards. She was a member of the choir in both wards and stakes, and with the Singing Mothers Groups. She put in several teaching in the MIA and has always encouraged and supported me in all my work in and out of the Church. She has been a real helpmate tome. 

I served as President of the La Jara Consolidated School for six years. The first year, we built the little grade school, the first expansion since consolidation. The school system has been expanding ever since. 

We were released from all our stake and ward callings on 15 September 1944, when we moved to Mesa, Arizona. On moving to Mesa, I told our Bishop we had held positions in the ward and stake and we would like to put in some of our time in the Temple and to gather more information on our kindred dead. It was only a short time until we received a call from the Stake President to do endowment work in the Temple, which we did for four years before being set apart as ordinance workers in the Temple. 

We were asked to work as ordinance workers in the Temple, but I could not make up my mind to accept. I seemed to be afraid and wondered if I could learn the parts and to do the work that was expected of me, at my age. I was really shunning it. I was in Colorado and hadn't planned ongoing to Mesa until the weekend. I had talked to my wife on Friday night and told her I wouldn't be coming that weekend, as a storm had been predicted Saturday morning. It was very cloudy, but I loaded up and decided to leave. Several people tried to talk me out of leaving. I went by the home of my daughter, Luella, in Alamosa. She tried her best to get me not to go as the report was light snow on Wolf Creek Pass at that time, but I told her I would soon be over the pass and I would be out of the snow. So, I left. I had made many trips back and forth since moving to Mesa. I was still running the farms, having sold the produce business in the summer of 1945, a business which we had successfully operated for many years. 

I got along fine going up the pass and part of the way down. I thought I could now shift into high gear, as I had been driving in second gear. There was about three inches of snow on the ground, but what I did not know about was the sheet of ice that was under the snow. As I shifted gears, my car went into a spin, knocked off several guard posts on the edge of the highway, and made a complete turn and headed up the pass, hanging over the edge of the roadway. I said, "Oh Lord, save me", and I said it mighty loud. That instant the car stopped. I know the Lord heard and answered my call. I got out of the care very carefully. It looked like a puff of wind could send it tumbling to the bottom of the canyon. This was the most frightening experience of my life. I got my overshoes on and, as soon as I could, I made my way to a big tree. I knelt down and thanked the Lord for my deliverance and asked Him to protect the car until I could get help. Right there and then, I vowed I would serve Him in any capacity, with his help, that he wanted e to serve. The storm was very bad. 

I went for help and, after several hours, a highway truck hooked onto my car and pulled it back onto the road. I had called a wrecker from Pagosa Springs, but it couldn't help. I was amazed at the fellow driving the wrecker. When he saw my car, he said, "The Lord has still got something for you to do here, yet." He was a rough looking fellow, chewing tobacco and spitting every minute. I thought to myself that no matter how he looked, he still believed in God. The car seemed in good condition and drove fine. Several days after I arrived in Mesa a fellow stopped and asked me if I knew my back wheel was sprung. That was the wheel all the strain was on. I took it and tried to get it straightened, but was never able to do so. I felt very lucky that that was the only damage. I had driven to Farmington, New Mexico, got a motel room and stayed the night. Then I continued on home the next morning. I was quite worn out and mighty shaky. I didn't call home because no one was expecting me. I always drove through during the day-time. 

Helmer called the folks in Mesa at noon on Sunday to ask if I had arrived. He was told that I wasn't coming. He said he had left Albuquerque Saturday afternoon and it was his understanding that I had left that morning. He said he would call Newel Knight, my brother-in-law, to find out. In a few minutes, he called back and said that I had, in fact, left the Valley. The family began to worry then. This experience was one that I and my family will never forget. I drove on the next morning. The roads were all snow-packed. The storm had passed me. I drove very carefully and took my time getting home about6:00 p.m. We had a happy reunion. The folks had imagined all kinds of things had happened to me. The following day, I reported to Harry L. Payne, President of the Arizona Temple. I was ready to accept the work if he thought I was worthy and could carry on the work satisfactorily. This was the latter part of November.  

After you are asked by the local authorities to become a Temple Ordinance Worker, your name is sent to Salt Lake City where all your records are reviewed, before your call is passed upon by the President of the Church and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. My wife and I were set apart for this glorious work on 13 January 1949. President Payne set me apart and gave me a wonderful blessing. We labored in the Temple there for nine and one-half years, and we felt our work was successful. The work in the Temple is the most glorious work, and it was the high-light of any work we have ever done in the Church. 

Working in the Temple was a wonderful opportunity and privilege. Words cannot express the joy and satisfaction we received from this work in the Lord's house. 

I had my first heart attack in the Temple about three months after I began working there. I was over-anxious to learn the parts and to carry on the work expected of me. I was in the hospital for three weeks and at home in bed for three weeks before the doctor gradually let me move about a little. The Temple was closed during the summer and this gave me time to regain my strength. The Lord again blessed me and I was able to start back in the Temple when it opened the first part of October. 

My health failing in the spring of 1958, we asked to be released from our Temple assignments. We received our release with much praise for our labors, on 23 July 1958. 

We missed the wonderful work and the contact with the choicest people in the world. On 26 June 1959, we left for Racine, Wisconsin, to bring J. Walter back from his mission.  I was feeling quite poorly and did not enjoy the trip as I should have.  After our return, we did not go on to Mesa in October because Dorothy was expecting a new baby, and we stayed to help her out. Ricky was born 13November 1959.

Jay was anxious to go on to Mesa, so he went down.  He called back to tell us the Bishop wanted us to be there for his mission report.  Under the circumstances we were in, we couldn't make it, so we told him to go ahead without us.  We have always felt a little bad that we didn't get to hear his report, although we did hear his report in the La Jara Ward.  We also heard him report in the San Luis Stake Conference, and we were very proud of him, as we have always been of all others in our family.

On 4 December 19  59,I had a light stroke.  It took my voice; I have always had a good strong voice.

The past few years I have been able to do little of anything.  But, the loving care of my good wife and family has assisted me and I have received many blessings and have lived a happy life.

When I was 84 years old, the family had an open house for me at our ranch home in La Jara, Colorado.  I never knew we had so many wonderful friends and neighbors.

On 5 October 1966, I passed my 85th birthday, and I feel I could live to be 90, or maybe even100 years old. I feel I have lived a good, full life, have experienced many wonderful things and have seen many changes.  I thank the Lord for all His goodness and blessings, both spiritual and temporal.

My wife and I have lived a rich, full    life together.  I could not have asked for a more wonderful wife and companion.  We have been greatly blessed.

I am thankful for my wife and my family. I have fourteen living children, 44 grandchildren, and 28 great-grandchildren.  They are all very dear to my heart but, above all, I am thankful for the missionaries who came to Denmark and brought the Gospel to our home, and for the Testimony I have of it.  Some of our family left Denmark before hearing the Gospel.  Some of them have joined since, but several of my brothers and sisters never joint the Church.

I am the last surviving member of my family and, if the Lord sees fit, I hope to live many happy years yet. 

These statements I have made are true. I have always tried to live an honest life and to deal fairly with my fellow men. 

Signed   / O.W. Gylling

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Additional Notes by Arzella K. Gylling:

I feel I should add a few lines along with my dear husband for all his goodness to me and his family. He is and has been a wonderful father and husband, always kind and considerate to all. 

We have spent almost forty years together happily. Yes, we have been through many trying times, as he has mentioned. Things haven't always been roses, but he has never given up. We have never had to suffer or to want for material things, and I attribute this to living the Gospel. 

I would like to say that he has always taken care of his own clothes. He never takes off his suit or pants, that he doesn't brush them and put them away and he does this to this day. Since he had that stroke, he sleeps late in the morning so that when he gets up he makes the bed, unless I want to change the sheets. So, if all men would do that much to help their wives, I know they would greatly appreciate it as I do. 

I am grateful for my testimony of the Gospel, for my dear husband, for my family, and for his children. They are all dear to me. I only pray we may all live unitedly in this life that we may enjoy salvation in eternity. 

I am grateful for my heritage, for my wonderful parents, my brothers and sister. I only hope that I will be able to continue to live a life that will always be a worthy example for all my loved ones to follow. 

I have received many blessings and healings through the power of the Priesthood. I know the Lord hears and answers my prayers. Sometimes, I have had direct answers to them. 

I ask the Lord's blessings to ever attend us and our family. 

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                                  Marriages of the Children:

Rudolph Helmer married Mattie Lucile Schneider on 9 January1924. They are divorced, and have two sons, Howard Lee born 22 September 1930, and married to Dorothy Jene Stubblefield (they have two sets of twins), and Roger Wayne, born 10December 1932, and married to Shirley Mae Van Farell (they have one child). 

Rudolph Helmer married Sylvia Jean Chafin on 24 January 1944, and they have two children, Marlo Kay and Dwight Jene. 

Carl Wilford (Bill) married Mable Joy Schneider on 12 December 1944. 

Clara married Irvin T. Nissen on 16 Jun 1923, and they have two children, Dennis Orval and Jean (both deceased) and Dennis, killed in World War II. 

Viola married Ray C. Clarke on 25 February 1925, andthey have two children, Bettie Rae (married to Bob Baker, with two children, Susan and Kelly), and Leona (married to Bobby LaVerne Claunch, with two children Karen and Forest).   

Gladys married Charley Osborn Scheibe on 14 April 1930, and they are divorced, with two children, Richard (married to Glenna Lee Knight, with one child, Charley Osborn), and Osborn (deceased). 

Gladys married William Arthur Burns on 29 March 1953. 

Luella married Hartley Ellsworth Owsley o 18 March 1933, and they have five children, James Ellsworth (married to Sue Ann Slawbaugh, with three children), Hartley Ellsworth (Buddy) (married to Judith Marie Miller, with one child), Jacqueline Sue (married to Charles Dorsey, with three children), Robert Gray, and Charles Franklin (married to Becky Jean Curtis, with two children). 

Garda married Glenn G. Knight on 13 May 1935, and they have six children. Glenna Lee (married to James Ival Husaker, with four children, and divorced; she married Richard Walter Scheibe, and they have one chld), Sherron (married to Ronald Lawry on 10 April 1959, and one child), Gail Lloyd (married to Shirley Sykes on 16 December 1960, and two children), Gloria (married Howard J. Scott on 23 May 1963), and Carla. 

Norma married John Howley and they were divorced. She, then, married Hans Peas and they were divorced. She married Benjamin Lafayette Smith on 19 December 1941. 

Most all of the children are active in the Church.