In April 1946 we left Indiana and pulled a house trailer to a trailer park in Phoenix, AZ, where we met two sisters. Both had been widowed during the War, and each had a daughter. They lived together, raising their daughters like sisters. When we were going to move to Provo, Utah, they told us we should contact another sister of theirs, who lived there and had an apartment to rent.
And that is how, in the summer of 1946 we moved to Provo, Utah and lived in a triplex owned by J. B. and Gaston Cummings. Our two downstairs apartments were separated by the entry hall, but as we usually kept both apartment doors open, we were all back and forth all the time like one big family. They were good friends of my parents, playing endless games of pinochle and enjoying each other's company till we left Utah in 1952.
Gaston and my mother cooked together, canned fruit and vegetables together, and permed each other's hair with the new Tony kits, which stank up both apartments. Neither of us had any relatives in Utah, so we functioned as a family. We had family picnics in Provo Canyon every summer.
When I was 6 years old and playing with their grandson Dickie Black, he took his first steps to me, across our living room floor.
Gaston was a widow for many years, living in a trailer in Scottsdale, AZ. I lived in Phoenix by then, and whenever my parents came to visit, we'd go over to see Gaston too.
That chance meeting in a trailer park led to a lifelong friendship!
And that is how, in the summer of 1946 we moved to Provo, Utah and lived in a triplex owned by J. B. and Gaston Cummings. Our two downstairs apartments were separated by the entry hall, but as we usually kept both apartment doors open, we were all back and forth all the time like one big family. They were good friends of my parents, playing endless games of pinochle and enjoying each other's company till we left Utah in 1952.
Gaston and my mother cooked together, canned fruit and vegetables together, and permed each other's hair with the new Tony kits, which stank up both apartments. Neither of us had any relatives in Utah, so we functioned as a family. We had family picnics in Provo Canyon every summer.
When I was 6 years old and playing with their grandson Dickie Black, he took his first steps to me, across our living room floor.
Gaston was a widow for many years, living in a trailer in Scottsdale, AZ. I lived in Phoenix by then, and whenever my parents came to visit, we'd go over to see Gaston too.
That chance meeting in a trailer park led to a lifelong friendship!
In April 1946 we left Indiana and pulled a house trailer to a trailer park in Phoenix, AZ, where we met two sisters. Both had been widowed during the War, and each had a daughter. They lived together, raising their daughters like sisters. When we were going to move to Provo, Utah, they told us we should contact another sister of theirs, who lived there and had an apartment to rent.
And that is how, in the summer of 1946 we moved to Provo, Utah and lived in a triplex owned by J. B. and Gaston Cummings. Our two downstairs apartments were separated by the entry hall, but as we usually kept both apartment doors open, we were all back and forth all the time like one big family. They were good friends of my parents, playing endless games of pinochle and enjoying each other's company till we left Utah in 1952.
Gaston and my mother cooked together, canned fruit and vegetables together, and permed each other's hair with the new Tony kits, which stank up both apartments. Neither of us had any relatives in Utah, so we functioned as a family. We had family picnics in Provo Canyon every summer.
When I was 6 years old and playing with their grandson Dickie Black, he took his first steps to me, across our living room floor.
Gaston was a widow for many years, living in a trailer in Scottsdale, AZ. I lived in Phoenix by then, and whenever my parents came to visit, we'd go over to see Gaston too.
That chance meeting in a trailer park led to a lifelong friendship!
And that is how, in the summer of 1946 we moved to Provo, Utah and lived in a triplex owned by J. B. and Gaston Cummings. Our two downstairs apartments were separated by the entry hall, but as we usually kept both apartment doors open, we were all back and forth all the time like one big family. They were good friends of my parents, playing endless games of pinochle and enjoying each other's company till we left Utah in 1952.
Gaston and my mother cooked together, canned fruit and vegetables together, and permed each other's hair with the new Tony kits, which stank up both apartments. Neither of us had any relatives in Utah, so we functioned as a family. We had family picnics in Provo Canyon every summer.
When I was 6 years old and playing with their grandson Dickie Black, he took his first steps to me, across our living room floor.
Gaston was a widow for many years, living in a trailer in Scottsdale, AZ. I lived in Phoenix by then, and whenever my parents came to visit, we'd go over to see Gaston too.
That chance meeting in a trailer park led to a lifelong friendship!
