Bud Nelson

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Dear Paul, Melanie, Roice, Bridget, Rob, Ben and Sarah, Sara, Heather and Nate Pace, Audrey, Rachel, and Matt,

cc: file, Grandma Hafen via Tony Hafen, Pauline Nelson via mail, Sara and Des Penny, Claude and Katherine Warner, Lloyd and Luana Warner. and Diane Cluff.

Welcome to "Thoughtlets." This is a weekly review of an idea, belief, thought, or words that will hopefully be of some benefit to you, my children, with an electronic copy to on-line extended family members. Any of you can ask me not to clutter your mail box at any time.

"One of the things which happened last weekend I didn't mention occured on Monday morning after I used Sara and Des' red pickup to drive Andrea, Rachel, Holly, Nate, Heather, and Billy out of the cabin and back to their two cars. When I got back to the cabin Paul, Matt, and Kate were all sound asleep. So I went for a hike and took some pictures (.../photos/cabin/*), and the camera battery went dead just as I was going to take a picture of an aspen tree a beaver had just about finished chewing down. So I went back up to the cabin, made the beds, cleaned up the food, and settled down on the couch to read a notebook my Aunt Mary Mae Nelson had give me. It is titled "Buds' Story" and is a brief history of her husband, Dad's next younger brother, Garth Bengt Nelson, known as Bud Nelson. I read the whole notebook before my four Cabin mates woke up. I know I can not replicate the feelings I had as I read it. I can write that the tears were streaming down my face, which they were. I can write to you about the times Uncle Bud gave me sage advice, which he did. I can write about how his four boys were like my brothers, which they are. And rather than do any of these things, I am going to repeat some of the words from Aunt Mary Mae's history, even though I realize these words will not have the same effect on you kids they had me because you do not have the context. Hopefully you will gain with a little more knowledge of this part of your heritage.

`... I had the most wonderful suprise and spiritual experience any widow could have. Following Bud's death I tried to keep this much-loved estate of his together. I felt I could not do it. It was so big and needed two heads to think things through. The boys were very understanding. I tried really hard but found myself buffeted on all sides. It was "Dad said this," "Dad said that." For eight months we struggled to put it all together, but there wasn't enough time to do everything. I received many suggestions from neighbors, friends and Church leaders. I was so confused. I had to make the major decisions for the farm. I finally turned to Worth Grimshaw, Gail Maxwell and Ken Esplin for the technical, legal information I needed in order to manage the farm and pay for maintenance, or we could sell and divide the net money. On a Sunday night, Annette slept on the couch. She had been sleeping with me since Bud's death. I had been tossing around and couldn't sleep. I got up and got a drink. I looked at the clock and it was 11:00 p.m. I turned out the light and commenced to give it another try to get to sleep. It was but a few minutes and I felt someone sitting at the bottom of my bed. I turned over and there Bud was sitting. He looked so wonderful. I reached for him, but he would have no part of me touching him. I understood and moved back. I just feasted my eyes upon him. His hair was beautiful red like it was in life. His face was still ruddy and his forehead was white like always. I looked at his hands. They still showed the wear and tear of hard labor. Then all I could look at was his eyes. Finally he said, "I've come to tell you, I love you." I always have and always will." Then the thought came to me that I was to offer the place to the boys to handle together. Bud said I should. He shook his head up and down. I was momentarily distracted and when I turned to look back Bud was gone. I jumped out of bed and ran around to where he had been sitting. Then I went out to the living room and woke Annette. I really thought I had been dreaming. I had never been so excited, thrilled and grateful. I then went back to bed and never slept. Morning found me wide awake. I got up and went to work. I don't know how I did because I was so weak. I could hardly lift my mixing bowl at the mixer. I was so weak I was totally exhausted. Dave Rollow came in and insisted I go home. I stayed home for two days totally worn out. I was high with excitement and gratfulness for this special experience. I continually give thanks to Bud and to my Heavenly Father. I realize this is not an every-day happening.'

As I looked through the dedication, the pictures of the sheepherder's cabin, the tombstone, the casket with his saddle on it, the program with my name listed as one of six pallbearers, the song sung at his funeral, the letters from family and friends, the newspaper memorial, the certificate of death, the endowment slips, the High Priest ordination certificate (13Mar77), the Elder ordination certificate (19May40), the Priest ordination certificate (09Jul39), the teacher ordination certificate (17Mar35), the deacon ordination certificate (03Sep33), the line-of-authority charts, the baptism certificate (03Feb29), and the Patriarchial Blessing (28Jan20) I was reminded what is important in life. Bud lived a good life. I never new that:

`When a young girl wandered away from Duck Creek camp ground where her relatives were camping, and became lost, search parties looked for her in vain for about 24 hours. Her plight was published on TV and the radio. Everyone wanted to help, but how? As Bud sat in sacrament meeting that Sunday it occured to him where she was. Bud went home, loaded his horse in the truck and headed for the mountain. The search leader assured Bud they had already searched where he intended to and what could one man do. And besides that, taking a horse there was impractical. Bud persisted after coming into the trees and saying a prayer, rode directly to the lava rock bed where the little girl sat unharmed and waiting (June 18, 1970). He returned with her to camp where she was taken and checked over, then he quietly loaded up the horse and headed home.'

As I read the newspaper article of the event, I realized I was working for Pan American (later Amoco and now BP-Amoco) in Denver, and this is why I had never heard of this incident before. I could go on and on quoting from Aunt Mary Mae's work, and I won't. I do plan to scan the entire book and to put all of the contents and pictures on the Internet for each of you to look at. When you visit, the book has a prominant place in the Family Room bookshelves. One other event, relative to their honeymoon night, which I thoroughly enjoyed, probably because I have found myself in similar situations, and largely because I could see in my mind's eye Uncle Bud:

`Back at the hotel we took the elevator to the roof, The Starlite Room. The menu was brought but everything was so expensive. Being bumpkins from the country, we weren't ready to pay so much for our dinner. We ordered tuna sandwiches and soda pop. Our waiter was a big black man. He brought the check on a silver plate. When he brought the change back, Bud gathered it all off the plate. The waiter stood there waiting with the plate held out. I finally reminded Bud that he needed to leave a tip. It wasn't funny then but it was later.'

There have been many times at many different places between each of the four corners of the earth where I have found myself a Southern Utah farm boy in the company of the sophisticated and wise (as to the ways of the world). I have found myself needing to be prompted, just as Aunt Mary Mae prompted Uncle Bud back in the 1940's. In fact, it happened several times this week.

Monday evening we got back to the house about 4:00. I was still working on proofing a `Functional Specification' document, and figured I would have a better chance of finishing it at home than if I went to work. I also didn't want to go back into the office and dissolve my memories of Pinto, seeing Mom and Grandma Hafen, spending time with Andrea's family and Uncle Des and Sara, being up Cedar Mountain, and retracing the steps of Uncle Bud Nelson.

About 5:30 Andrea came in and told me Jane Moreless died on Saturday and the funeral had been at 4:00 Monday. Like Uncle Bud Nelson, from my limited perspective, she was taken before her time. I have referenced Jane, and her positive influence on my search for happiness in the midst of unanticipated change in several Thoughtlets (.../9839.html, .../1998/9844.html, .../9847.html, 9903.html, 9907.html, 9919.html, 9921.html, 9924.html, and 9932.html). My heart ached, and I felt fear for my children, and anticipated grandchildren. The diseases today - Ebola, AIDS, CJD, etc. - are not to be trifled with. As the scripture teach us:

`Behold, it is my will, that all they who call on my name, and worship me according to mine everlasting gospel, should gather together, and stand in holy places.' (Doctrine & Covenants 101:22)

I believe this is in our Priesthood Quorums, our Sunday School classes, and in the Stakes of Zion. How can we possibly catch AIDS if we are associating only with those who keep themselves pure and clean. Surely there will be the odd accident like happened to Uncle Bud Nelson. And then I wonder about Sister Moreless, and recognize good people are also going to suffer, as this is part of the signs of the times. With this news I took Matt to his trumpet lesson at the new Cinco Ranch High School, and to soccer practice at the Katy Fields where Roice and Ben and Paul spent so many summer and fall days. It was good to be out in nature and to watch young boys growing. When I got back to the house I spent over an hour on the phone with Jeff Winston working on the talk they are giving in Cedar on Thursday.

Wednesday was spent writing a letter to about 30 people about an issue of The Leading Edge next June which I am soliciting papers for and editing, and also about a repeat of the HGS Spring Symposium (9916.html & 9917.html). Wednesday evening was my first evening back to working with the Young Men. They played vollyball in preparation for the stake tournament the next three Saturdays. It was fun to get to know some of the guys. Thursday was more of the same. In the afternoon I had a GSH Board of Directors meeting, and I went to the GSH Ice Breaker for a while. First time I have done this, even though the Geophysical Society of Houston gave me Life Membership a few years ago because of my contributions through Landmark Graphics. I went from the meeting to Katy along Westheimer. I had made arrangements for a conference call with Steve Joseph, Albert Boulanger, and Roger Anderson during this 45 minute drive time. The call was still going when I got to the missionary's apartment. In fact, it was still going until we got out of the car and walked up to the first appointment's house. We had a good 2nd discussion with a 22 year old girl who is very interested in spiritual things. I hope the missionaries see it progress, and I fear they will not because it is almost impossible to find the spirit of the circumstances this girl is living in. It is so different from the peace and serenity Bud Nelson lived with as he herded sheep on Cedar Mountain.

Friday started with the Sales/Operations Meeting conference call to London, Perth, and Oslo, then the Developer's Meeting, then a cost reducing Operations Meeting, then a revenue increasing Forecast Meeting, and by this time it was about 3:30 PM. There was a half hour prior to the CoRe Exchange Meeting, which was all about a contact management system similar to what John Amason and I had originally intended be installed a year ago. I had several e-mails to answer and to get off, including one saying I am taking over the courses and will prepare a course to teach in London and Perth and Oslo (Sara and Audrey, maybe one of you or both of you can go with me on one of these. I need to know any breaks you have so I can work the courses around them.). I got home about 6:00 very tired. Because we were going to a party Saturday night we spent the night with Matt (Rachel went to the football game). We went to Malibu speedway and watched Matt go around and around and around. Wished Rob was with us. Then we played 18 holes of miniature golf. It was a fun evening for the most part.

Saturday we went for a walk/run around the block. There is a lot to talk about, and this is a good time. I had another CES conference call from 9-10:30. Matt and I went to the vollyball games from 11-12:45. Andrea brought us each a hamburger and Matt's first soccer game started at 2:00. We were supposed to be there an hour early and we were. We got back to the house in time to fix dinner and I did last week's Thoughtlet about the Hafen Reunion 1999 (9936.html). Then Andrea and I went to Bill Hagen's 50th birthday party. His Mom and Dad were there. They were in Maplewood 2nd Ward with us from 1980-1984 and both claimed to remember me. This is Bill's third marriage. He has been serving in the High Priest Group Leadership with Corey Grua and myself for the last couple of years. His parents were taking pictures of him and very proud of his decisions these days. It was a good evening and I felt a wave of hope as Andrea and I talked to different friends at the party. It is so easy to worry about the moment and to not see events in context. As I think about Uncle Bud Nelson's desire to keep his farm together for a larger purpose, I wonder about the context he perceived.

Sunday morning the Venture Crew (a Venturing Crew is what used to be an Explorer Post) President, James Sneidman, came over to the house and I cooked him and Matt and myself pancakes for breakfast. We had our first planning meeting and agreed to set up a web site for the Nottingham Ward Venturing Crew (http://www.walden3d.com/nvc). We started the basic outline, and agreed to work on it Wednesday night at the house and to have a spaghetti dinner planning meeting on Sunday at 3:00 next week to get our plans for the next few months finalized. Church was good. New kids and a new family in the ward spoke. I found tears of joy and hope in my eyes. I worked on the nvc web pages a little after lunch. Then it was time to go to the church and get set apart. The blessings Andrea and I and her Councelors and Advisors received were truly awe inspiring. We went to choir practice a few minutes late. When we got home we had a family council, and talked for a while and here I am finishing this week's Thoughtlet up at 10:45 in the evening. As I reflect on my message this week, I hope each of you find the joy Bud Nelson found in his life. I have, and as I am spiritually touched during the week, I find it again

I'm interested in sharing weekly a "thoughtlet" (little statements of big thoughts which mean a lot to me) with you because I know how important the written word can be. I am concerned about how easy it is to drift and forget our roots and our potential among all of distractions of daily life. To download any of these thoughtlets go to http://www.walden3d.com/thoughtlets or e-mail me at rnelson@walden3d.com.

With all my love,
Dad
(H. Roice Nelson, Jr.)

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Copyright © 1999 H. Roice Nelson, Jr.