Blizzard!

I turned 12 on December 20, 1961. I was excited! I would be ordained a Deacon; I would get to go to Mutual; I would get to go to Scout Camp! Of course, I was a little bit anxious. One of the reasons was that my camping skills weren't that great. Also I didn't get along that well with the boys just older than I was. I was somewhat in awe of the boys who were a couple of years older than I was, such as Larry Brady. He would be going so I thought that would be OK.

Dad and Mom took me over to Allied War Surplus on 66th South and State where we bought an old US Army pack. It was canvas only - no frame, no board just the canvas. I never did get it figured out! We got a canteen and a web belt. We also got a hooded sweatshirt.

The Scout Troop always went to Camp Stenier in the Uintah Mountains. It was a very pretty camp a couple of hours from where we lived. The troop always went up on Saturday to set up camp. Then they had Sacrament meeting on Sunday. We always came back on the next Saturday.

Grandma Wheeler drove some of us up to camp. That was an adventure in and of itself!

Well, I had a great time - eaten by mosquitos, hiking through the dark because one of the scouts on a camping hike had gotten sick, trying to hit a target with a .22, being scared as only a 12 year old can be by the stories told around the fire. It was quite a week.

On Friday afternoon, July 13, 1962, we had planned to hike over the saddle of a near-by ridge and into a little basin where there was supposed to be some good fishing. I have never liked to fish, but I decided to go along anyway. Most of the rest were very excited to go.

We hiked up the side of the ridge. The hike was pleasant over a surface that was a pretty loose shale. The weather was dry, although there were clouds hanging just above the peaks. It looked like it could rain at any time.

When we got to the top of the saddle, we saw a snow field that looked to be about a thousand feet long. Our lake was just below the snow. Most of the boys just slid down the snow. I was too scared to do that, so I hiked down the left side of the snow, keeping one foot on the snow and another on the rocks. When I got to the bottom, every one was huddled in a small copse.

You see, while I was hiking down, the low clouds had started to dispense snow!

Nick Mascaro told us that we couldn't stay there. The weather was not getting better, so fishing was out of the question. We had to go back through the snow storm.

So all of us hiked back up the snow field to the saddle. Then we had to traverse the shale while making our way down the ridge. I started to hike straight down the ridge over the now slippery rock (not a great choice!), rather than follow the others as they hike on a slight slant down the slope. Larry Brady was just in back of me. He saw what was going on, and grabbed me before I could take more than a couple of steps.

I was shaken, but very glad. I felt then, and I feel now, that Larry saved my life in the blizzard of 1962.