Princely Pioneer

 

This is my maternal grandfather William Frank Smith.  

I am proud of my pioneer heritage on my maternal granmother's (Anna Sorenson) side of the family as well as on my father's side of the family but my mother's father was a pioneer of unique destiny and, in my opionion, epic proportion.  The bare bones of the story is that he rode into Wendover in a boxcar where he went to work for a man trying to establish a gas station in the middle of nowhere.  It was a great idea and Grandpa ran with it.  He bought it and built on it establishing a restaurant, hotel, and casino.  All of this information is in the article above.  I would be happy to provide copies to anyone who wants to read the whole thing.  I suspect most of us have a copy of our own.  My mom, Marian Barnwell, passed out many copies for which I am grateful. 

I never knew my grandfather.  According to familysearch.org he was born 31 Dec 1886 in

Leola, South Dakota and died on the 24th of December 1958 and I was born in 1959 but I have heard many, many stories about the man W.F. Smith was.  He was the kind of man who brought home extra people to Thanksgiving dinner because they needed the meal.  He found jobs for people who needed them and liked to buy things for his wife.  There is an old story that my mom once told me that Grandpa once said to her "your mother thinks I should tell her I love her more but I told her once and until I say different it stands!"  Now, I know we like to hear we are loved but I can't help thinking that this is an adorable story.  For one thing, what a sweetly hysterical thing to say to your child.  The message is, "I love her and that won't change".  Another story my mother shared about her father was about the time he gave her a case of strawberries and told her he really likes strawberry jam and could she please make him some.  Then he went away and left her to figure it out!  According to mom she did.  I'd love to know the whole of that story - I think, but ultimately what it says about my grandfather is that he had a way of subtly expressing confidence in a person and giving them the space to make mistakes without those mistakes being a crisis.

I would be very grateful to hear any other stories about my grandfather.

Where The West Begins

I suppose All of us cousins have memories of Wendover. Of course I remember Jack rabbit hunting with David & Uncle Chet and trying to sit as close as I could to the air conditioner as I could in Uncle Chet's truck while David & Adam teased me. But mostly I remember lots of different sounds.The sounds of the big rigs as their jake brakes gave way as they barreled into town. The sound of the beads in Grandma Anna's room at the old hotel where she lived. The sound of the mother cycles at uncle Jim's and the endless array of fast cars that sournded us on the salt flats. The sound of the excitement in the patrons voices when they hit a jackpot and the endless noise of coins in the slot machine trays as we were drug through the casino with an aunt or mother tightly grabbing your hand as you were drug through the casino trying to figure out what was going on. I was also fascinated by the sound of the air compressors and the bell that would ring as cars drove over that little black hose at the service station. We always wanted to see what car was on the next racing trailer or if somebody had a new Ford mustang or some other fast and shinny car. The sound we all looked forward to of course was the splash into a pool or the noise of the trampoline springs followed by the laughter and pure screams of joy of cousins reunited nothing of course beat those sounds.

Wendover was never short on delivering adventure. Sometimes it would be exploring spooky caves in the mountains where we would look for baby rattle snakes (remember this was the era of no helmets or seat belts we were sooo stupid) or a visit down to the old air base where we would peek into a window hoping to catch Ball lightning in one of his experiments again. Or riding flat out on the back of Adam's YZ 80 down a dirt road that later would become Interstate 80. Of course there were the endless snype hunts the older kids sent us on or looking for salt Bears so much so that by the time the told my of this mythical horny toad creature I had all but given up believing there was anything that lived in Wendover other than Jack Rabbits.

Believe it or not one of my most favorite memories in Wendover was the train Grandma had in the laundry room basement and we were entertained for hours while she would do laundry down there In hindsight it may have only been minutes but when you were able to ride it your self it was true heaven. There are so many more memories of the Smith Family but I will keep this one as an early child hood memory of Wendover finishing with a bang. Who of you remembers 4th of July on the salt flats and the fire crackers they would bury in the salt. I remember running trying to doge flying salt and the load bang and not being able to wait until my cousins would share some of those coveted fire works they were able to obtain!

By

WF Barnwell

Our Tallest Family Member

 

http://www2.gbcnv.edu/howh/WendoverWill.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wendover_Will

  Grandma's car was big and comfy but the trip across the salt flats was endless.  Whether we had been in "the city" meaning Salt Lake City, UT for the day or hanging out at the Hotel Utah or Grandma had picked us up at the airport it seemed that the sun had always set before we managed to get to Wendover.  Grandma kept us occupied with "the game".  A silver dollar! went to the first person to spot the cowboy.  It was a game that didn't work well from the other direction because of the massive rock blocking the way but crossing the salt flats one could see the glimmer of the lights that illuminated our friend Wendover Will with his friendly wave, his directional point and his wagging cigarrette.  This sign meant the fun was really about to begin.  Summer in Wendover meant freedom.  We wandered around town by ourselves, rode horses, visited the pig farm, swam at the Motel, explored caves, and hunted for lizards. I remember spending time with my Howlett cousins, being a pest but being really well treated.  Sleepovers at Aunt Elaine and Uncle Chet's house were memorable. There was also a couple who were entertainers in the Casino who had children my age.  I must be getting old because I can't remember their names but I remember having a great time.

Do you remember Wendover?  If you would like to contribute to this blog send your e-mail address to joelkers@yahoo.com and I will give you authorship access.