Working with Grandpa by Coy Hancock

 

I liked working with Grandpa Hancock.  I loved his stories, advice, and the funny things he would say to me while we were working together.  Work wasn’t something he did because he had to; it was something he did because he loved it.  I helped him with his chickens, bees, garden, and cows and now I have each of these in my own yard today.  I’ve even been talking to a friend about growing sorghum so we can make our own molasses. Working with my own children with these activities have helped me not miss him so much. Plus, it has given me the opportunity to teach them about this amazing man and the lessons he taught me.

 I always felt like I was on some kind of adventure whenever I worked with Grandpa. Several times he asked us to go with him to gather cows. Sometimes we would have to hike for miles before we found the cattle.  Since I have always loved hiking I looked forward to going along.  Usually, the cows would peacefully let themselves be herded, but not always.  One time we went to get a cow he had out on someone’s property.  I have no idea how long the cow had been out there or what he was planning on doing with her but I do know she was mean. She was in the corral when we got there so we just had to get her into the truck.  There was the adventure.  She had fire in her eyes and she wasn’t afraid to show how she felt about us.  She would balk and tug at the rope one minute but then would rush at us and try to stomp us into the ground the next.  I admired the way Grandpa held his ground but was certainly not ready to do so myself.  I’m sure she smelled my fear even though I desperately tried to appear cool and calm on the outside.   We, and when I say “we” I mean Grandpa because I was keeping my distance from this ferocious monster, drove her up the ramp into the truck and he tied her up to the front.  Then we started home with Grandpa driving and me sitting at the front of my seat keeping one eye behind me. The cow didn’t stop fighting the ropes the whole way home and the way she was stomping and carrying on I was sure she was still trying to get at us. I tried to be discreet with my spying because I didn’t want Grandpa to know how afraid I was of her coming through the back window to finish me off but he could tell and talked to me about it.  On the one hand, I knew that I’d be safe with Grandpa but on the other hand, if that cow got any closer to me I would have willingly spent the rest of the trip hugging the front bumper.  That day I learned that it’s ok to be afraid as long as you still finish the job.

One time my dad dropped me off to help Grandpa unload hay from the back of his truck (I’m still amazed at how he was able to load so much hay into the back of that old, green, dilapidated beast of a truck). When I got there, Grandma directed me to watch out for Grandpa and make sure he didn’t work too hard.  I always took Grandma very seriously and since she didn’t go into details I figured maybe Grandpa was having a hard time or something so I did everything I could to make sure he didn’t have to lift a single bail.  I tried to be strong and fast but it wasn’t easy keeping ahead of him and before long I was ready to give out myself.  About that time he said to me, “I know your grandma told you to watch out for me but I’m still able to do a little work.”  I was really glad he said that because trying to save him was killing me.  He then took his hook and grabbed one end of the next bail and I did the same on my end and we worked the rest of the time together without either one of us perishing. That day I learned that by working together the job gets done without anybody getting hurt or dying.

 I think the most grueling work I did with Grandpa was extracting honey.  First of all, I’m not a fan of pain.  Since bee stings are painful, I whole-heartily try to avoid them.  In those days, the veils we wore were tied on with these tiny thread-like strings that wove around us like fragile spider webs.  If you didn’t tie your strings correctly, you got stung.  Period.  I much prefer today’s veils with their zippers and Velcro. Luckily, Grandpa was always willing to help me tie my veil and, if I could find it, I’d add a little duct tape to the mix.  I remember helping him butcher chickens one time when one of the headless chickens ran into a beehive and knocked it over.  He just walked over and lifted the hive back upright then came back and we continued with the chickens.  I wondered how in the world he was able to do that without getting stung.  I remained perplexed until later, as we waited for Grandma to fix lunch; he sat in his chair, took out his pocket knife, and proceeded to dig the stingers out of his hands.  I couldn’t believe it!  When I got stung, even once, I thought for sure I was going to die and acted the part. But not Grandpa.  He just kept on going as if he had never been stung.  That day I learned that it’s ok to work through pain, especially when you know it’s temporary.

 As I grow older, I am more and more grateful for the fond memories I have of working with Grandpa, for his stories and the lessons he taught me.  I still miss him but am indebted and thankful to our loving Heavenly Father and our Savior for making it possible for us to be together again.  No doubt I will beg him to repeat his stories plus others he didn’t have the time to tell.     

Coy Hancock

The Money Tree

 The Money Tree

Soon after John Andrew Hancock was called to serve as a Bishop of the Clay Springs Ward, on March 2nd, 1947, Elder Joseph F. Merrill, one of the Apostles, ordained him a High Priest and Bishop. While he served as Bishop, I believe Daddy attended every General conference session in Salt Lake City. If not, it was not out of lack of wanting to do so. Daddy made every effort to make those trips economically possible by including them in his freight business agenda as well as trying to make it as fun as he could for those of the family who he took along with him. At least once the trip included some time at the Lagoon theme park. On one of the trips shortly after being ordained, when Irene and LaVerne were very young they were able to go to General Conference with Daddy while Momma was left at home with other little ones. While there, the girls were taken to a door of the tabernacle, near a gate which has since been removed, where the Prophet was known to enter. There they waited in hopes to meet him until their patience was rewarded, and they were able to meet, talk with, and shake hands with President George Albert Smith. During one conference trip, LaVerne says “We got to sit in the choir seats for one of the sessions when the choir was not singing, so we were very close and could look right down upon the prophet”. The only vehicle the family had during this time was the truck daddy used to haul freight, which was his primary means of earning a living. Often Lumber from a local saw mill was hauled one direction and then something else was purchased and brought back home to sell. In the fall, Utah fruit was hauled back to Arizona, which was then sold, or traded. Some was often given away to needy friends, neighbors and relatives in and around Clay Springs. Some of the traveling included kids laying on top of a mattress which was laying on top of a full load of peaches. The mattress gave the kids a comfortable ride while it also protected the fruit. The mattress and kids were also under a large tarp, which was tied in place over kids, mattress and fruit. Irene tells a story about an experience the girls had when, “Daddy went to one of the meetings, and La Vern and I were left on Temple Square, on the lawn near the south side of the Tabernacle, between the Assembly Hall and the Tabernacle. We were told not to move from that spot so he would know where he could find us after the meeting. "Daddy had given Irene some coins including a fifty-cent piece and quarters which the girls used to play with. Irene had seen her share of gardening and played a gardener game digging in the lawn. She pretended to plant seed for a money tree, and would bury her half dollar coin, then dig it up and bury it again. When daddy came back to get them, they had moved around enough that they had lost track of the last planting site and could not find her half-dollar. Daddy helped them look around for it for awhile and when they still could not find it he said “It’s alright sister, where you buried that money, a money tree will grow. A tree will grow with a bunch of those fifty cent pieces on it and no one will be able to pick them but you”. Irene recalls, “I was that little and I believed every word he said.” Although Irene says she has never gone back to look for the money on her money tree, she knows there have been many blessings coming her way which only she could harvest, but like her money tree, she has not always looked to harvest those blessings as she could have. I am sure we have all missed some bounteous blessings from lack of looking for an opportunity to harvest them.