Grandpa Madsen

We were also able to visit my Grandpa Madsen's gravesite at the Provo Cemetery. (*Pictures to come) He died in a plane crash when my Dad was 4 years old.  Even though I have never met him in this life, I have always felt a very strong connection to him, and I cannot wait to see him again and catch up someday.  Love you, Grandpa!

PROVO CEMETERY

Rigby's middle name, Preston, is after my Grandpa Madsen.

FAMILY HISTORY PICTURES AND STORIES

Here are a few of my favorite stories about Grandpa written by his mother, my Great Grandma Madsen:

Sitting on the Ditch Bank 
One Sunday morning, I dressed Preston and Mary for church. Then, I was getting baby Pauline ready. When I finished, the two were gone. That little tyke had lured his sister off to the pasture. I was desperate, so I left the baby and ran down to the ditch that ran through the pasture. I saw a pair of shoes first. I couldn’t find any kids. Then there were Mary’s shoes and her stockings, so I just kept going. When I found the children, they were sitting on the bank of the ditch with their little feet in the water. I don’t think I need to say that I was so relieved that I loved them, took them by the hand and we had a nice walk back home. I don’t think that Preston ever gave up his love for that crooked creek. He felt badly when, after the flood from the river came, that the creek was revamped and made just an old irrigation ditch.

St. Vitus Dance 
Dad took him out and blocked one row of beets and decided to show him how it was done.  I shall never forget that morning.  That little guy thinned about half the row then laid down on the ground and began to cry. He was ashamed to let Mama know that he was shaking all over. Dad had gone to the field below and I was alone and scared. I left the other kids with Grandma, and I took that little boy to the doctor. They looked him over from head to toe, inside and out. Then they told me that he had a nervous disease called “Saint Vitus Dance”. I had heard of this before.  A little girl, her name was Virginia Clyde, that about my age had the same condition. The Dr. advised me to not put him under any pressure at all. We should allow him to play and do whatever he liked to do.  

Night in Jail 
Preston liked to play baseball with the rest of the kids in the ward.  His favorite friends were Bill Goodridge and Byron “Bike” Stubbs.  The team was going to play up in Orem, so he hurried to finish the chores.  He was already late. He was to pick up his cousin Marie and drive to the game.  I suppose he tried to make up lost time and broke the speed limit. A patrol officer tried to stop them, but Pres tried to ditch the cop.  When it was time for the kids to go home after the ball game, we got a telephone call from the Provo Police who were good friends of Alf’s and asked if we could come down town and talk to them.  The patrol officer caught the speeding car but let them play out the game and then took them down to headquarters.  When he found who Pres belonged to, he suggested that they keep him until morning.  We agreed. That was a long night for Mom and Dad. I suppose it was for Preston too. When he got home the next morning, he was a sad young man.  He just sat in his room and talked to us and cried.  All he could think of that day was what he had done and what made it worse, Dad was the Bishop.  That was the first and last time that he made that kind of a mistake. 

OLD MADSEN FARMS 
My parents found out several years ago that a man in their ward, Mike Boulter, is a distant cousin through my Dad's side (the Madsens).  His mother owns some old farming property near the Provo River that once belonged to our shared ancestor.  He and his wife were so kind to drive out and tell us some fun stories about the Madsens.

The kids loved tickling each other with the grass.

I cannot even describe how much I LOVE and miss the mountains!  They are food for the soul!

Adeline, Rachel, Reuben, Rigby, Peter