While Strolling Through the Park one Day by Doris Whatcott

WHILE STROLLING THROUGH THE PARK ONE DAY

In the merry, merry month of May, I was taken by surprise By a pair of roguish eyes. In a moment my poor heart was stole away!
Well, it really wasn’t in the “month of May” (actually it was in the month of August, 1948). And I was not really “strolling through the park” that day (I was at a Western States Missionary Reunion at Pioneer Park in Salt Lake City, Utah). And to be perfectly truthful, it wasn’t a “surprise”. Actually it was a first-time meeting of Garth Whatcott and me, and it had been pre-arranged by Carl Whatcott and Georgia Finlinson). And the “roguish eyes” designation is not quite the first impression I received as Garth and Carl arrived at the Park, since Garth almost immediately, seated himself at a distant park bench, reading a newspaper! BUT, I DO HASTEN TO ADMIT THAT THIS MEETING WAS THE BEGINNING OF MY “HEART BECOMING STOLE AWAY”!
I had known “of” Garth Nelson Whatcott for two years. I, and Sister Georgia Finlinson from Oak City, Utah were Missionary Companions, laboring in Lincoln, Nebraska in the Western States Mission—hundreds of miles from the Mission Headquarters in Denver, Colorado. She was, at the time, corresponding with an Elder Carl Whatcott, the older brother of Garth. Carl was serving a Mission in England at that time. During the 8 months that Sister Finlinson and I were companions, letters from England from (Elder Whatcott), became as regular as clockwork. And news of Elder Whatcott (as well as his family) were often a subject of information and discussion between the two of us. The more tender Carl’s letters to Georgia became and the closer Sister Finlinson and I became as we continued to labor together, the thought that the two of us returning home after our missions and dating brothers was mentioned often. (Obviously we did not spend ALL of our non-tracting time reading, memorizing, and studying the Scriptures.)
Sister Finlinson and I had been assigned as companions directly upon arriving in the Mission Field—two of the greenest of the “Greenies”. We had no Senior Companions from the beginning. Since there were no “seasoned” Sister Missionaries in the Mission to pair us up with. Erom the beginning, we had labored equal in authority—neither of us designated as Senior nor Junior Companion. We were determined to do what we could in the work to which we had been called to do. This assisted us in becoming very close and united in all that we did, said, and thought.
To continue with the “meeting in the park” saga: After the Missionary Reunion in the Park was over, as was part of the pre-arrangement for the day, the four of us, Carl & Georgia, Garth and I, made our way, in Garth’s car (he was the only one of the 4 of us who had a car), to Oak City, Utah, where Georgia’s parents lived. Garth and Carl’s parents lived in Lynndyl, Utah, not far from Oak City. The plan was for me to stay with Georgia over the week-end and Carl and Garth would go to Lynndyl for the week-end. Then, Garth would give me a ride back to Provo (where I was attending BYU and working) on his way back to Salt Lake City, where he was in the final semester working towards his degree in Business and Banking & Finance at the University of Utah.
Upon arriving to Oak City, we went directly to the local Church Building, where a Missionary Farewell Dance was in progress. One of Georgia’s relatives was being honored at this dance prior to soon entering the Mission Field. In Oak City it was the practice to stage a Farewell Dance where the Ward and community (and anyone who wants to go) honored and financially contributed to the Missionary’s support. And, that is still the practice there, as far as I am aware. And anyone—friend, relative, Ward Member, or stranger is most welcome to attend this event. At the church, Georgia and Carl immediately mingled and freely participated, leaving Garth and I to do our thing. And we did. We danced. We met a lot of Georgia’s family as well as many others. It was a friendly, sociable group. We were especially impressed with the music people—(we called it an “orchestra” in those days. A “band” was a group that played for sports events and/or marched in parades, etc). This group’s instruments consisted of a piano, banjo or mandolin, drum, and perhaps a trumpet, as I remember. But the most interesting instrument was: Occasionally, one of the members of the group would add a duck call to the beat of the number they were playing. Garth and I got a great kick out of the innovativeness of using that item in a musical venue.
We enjoyed ourselves throughout the evening. When the dance was over, the four of us drove from there to Georgia’s parent’s home. It must have been about 1 or 1:30 O’clock in the morning by that time.
Since Carl had just shortly returned home from his Mission to England—in fact just that very week—Georgia and Carl had, just that very day, officially determined that they would be married. However, they had not had a chance to discuss this engagement nor to make plans and decisions concerning the wedding, reception and details with her parents.
So when we arrived at Georgia’s home, they announced that they needed to talk with Georgia’s parents—alone—to get plans made. There was a need to make haste, since this was August and they wanted to get married, have the reception, and settle in Provo in time for Carl to start school at BYU early in September. So there was a need to get things organized and planned that night.
Garth had to wait for Carl to finish so that they could drive to Lynndyl for the night. I was scheduled to stay at Georgia’s, but I didn’t feel I could go in the house and go to bed and leave Garth in the car alone to wait for Carl. So it was determined that we would wait in the car for them to do their thing. They indicated that it wouldn’t take long.
However, as I remember, it was close to 4 A.M. when they came out of the house. During that 2 or 3 hours in the cool, August, Utah night (and as I remember, there was even a beautiful, nearly full moon), Garth pretty well “stole my heart away”. Wow!!
I went to Church with Georgia’s family and Garth and Carl the next day, Sunday. Afterward, Garth and I rode back to Provo (me), and Garth to Salt Lake City. I saw Garth again, briefly, at Carl and Georgia’s wedding festivities in September. They were married in the Manti Temple and the reception was in Oak City.
I had made plans to go to Salt Lake for General Conference in October, so Garth suggested we set up a date for that week end. I wasn’t sure where I would be staying nor a phone number where I could be reached in Salt Lake, since I was going to be staying with fellow-returned-Sister missionaries. So he suggested to give me his phone number then I could call him when I got to Salt Lake, and we could make plans as to a time for the date.
When I got to Salt Lake at Conference time, I didn’t try to call him until Saturday afternoon and when I dialed the number he had given me, a gruff-sounding voice answered. When I asked for Garth, this voice almost yelled at me (I thought), “Who?” I repeated Garth’s name and he immediately told me, “Never heard of him!!” I was so embarrassed. To begin with, I had never in my life before called a guy, and I immediately determined that Garth had given me a fictitious number to keep from having to keep the date with me. However, I spent the evening with Missionary friends and had a good evening in spite of it all.
As previously agreed upon, I was to meet Carl and Georgia at the Seagull Monument on Temple Square the next morning (Sunday) and we would attend the sessions of General Conference together in the Tabernacle.
When we met, Garth was with them—sporting a big, black eye. I rather coldly acknowledged him. When Carl and Georgia asked what happened to our date the night before, I noted that I had tried, but “obviously had been given a wrong phone number”. Garth had already given them his version of me “not bothering to make a phone call to him”. It was soon explained that the rooming house residents, where Garth and a group of male college students were living, were big on pulling that joke on each other. At least, that was his explanation.
But that didn’t explain the black eye. Garth’s story on that was that when I didn’t call, he decided to go to the UU/BYU football game with his roommates that evening. I soon learned that this annual sports event between these two teams was, traditionally, THE contest of the year. And that it was not unusual for the fans of the two opposing teams to get rather “testy” with each other. The claim was that the group Garth was with (Uof U fans) and a BYU group got into a confrontation at the game and Garth had “gotten caught in the crossfire” somehow. That was his story and through the years he has stuck with it. And I have somewhat accepted it.
After the Conference sessions, the four of us went to Provo to Carl and Georgia’s basement apartment on or near the BYU Campus where they were living at that time. Garth, again, was the chauffeur for the group.
Garth and I, from that evening, seemed to have worked out our earlier contentions and mistrusts and began to date pretty steadily.
By this time, the weather was getting to be rather cold and wintery (with a capital W)—it was reported as one of the coldest and snowiest winters on record up to that time.
However, our relationship seemed to warm up from that week-end forward. Garth drove from Salt Lake City to Provo nearly every week-end. That little green Ford made many trips around the “Point of the Mountain” to Provo and back during the next cold, snowy, weeks. I looked forward to the week-ends with such happiness. Both of us being “starving students”, our dates consisted of going to movies at the BYU movie house, school activities, ball games, visiting with Carl and Georgia and hanging out at my apartment. I was rooming with two former Sister- Missionaries in an apartment just off campus.
During this time, I was serving as the Treasurer of the Beta Pi Sorority, an organization of active returned-Sister Missionaries on campus. This group met weekly for meetings and sponsored some service activities, dances, musical presentations—some combined with the Returned-Elders Fraternity and some separately. A goodly percentage of these activities were a source of dates for Garth and me..
There were no Student Wards or Branches on campus at that time. As students, we met in the Joseph Smith Building for Sunday Sacrament Meeting Services—a great, vast group of students! It would take a good part of the Meeting time to be able to pass the sacrament to this large congregation. In order to hurry the process along we were instructed to take the sacrament, while moving the sacrament trays along the row with our left hand, and not take time to put the sacrament into our mouth until the tray had already passed on. And to take the Sacrament Cups of water, but to pass the tray along before taking time to drink the water. There was no dividing into classes in a Sunday School atmosphere. Nearly every Sunday, the sermons would be given by one of the General Authorities. Wonderfully Spiritual Meetings! And with Garth by my side! It didn’t get much better than that!
At Thanksgiving time, Garth took me to Lynndyl for the week-end to “meet the family”. I was a little apprehensive, since I had only, at that point, met Carl and Georgia. In addition to his parents, all of his brothers and sisters and their spouses and children were there, and also Garth’s “Grandpa Henry”, who lived with his parents. I wouldn’t have needed to worry about being accepted. It was a good time and they all treated me with such acceptance.
Sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, we became engaged. There was no “down-on-his-knee-proposal”, nor a brass band or sky-written proposal. Not even a ring at that point. We spoke our “I love you’s” often to each other, however. And spent every week-end, and any other time we could together. Garth, of course, had Carl and Georgia’s place to sleep any time he was in Provo. Gradually, we began speaking of our future plans in the plural--“our”, “we”, “us”, instead of “I” or “Me” or “Mine”. Our plans, at that time, was to marry in June, following his graduation from the University of Utah when we both would have breaks from school and could make the trip to the Mesa Arizona Temple.
To add to Garth’s cold, icy driving challenge, early during that winter, Garth suffered an injury to his right wrist and arm. To supplement his Veteran’s Student Income to go to College, he had a job as a delivery person for the Coca Cola Bottling Company. He delivered cases of Coke to the stores in the Salt Lake area. He was loading or unloading a supply of Coke to a store and, somehow, a bottle struck something and exploded, sending glass in all directions. This injured his right wrist and arm, cutting a large gash and severing a tendon on that wrist. He had to have stitches and a large cast from his elbow to the center of his right hand. The cast was applied with the wrist bent so that the tendon would have no stress on it while healing. This complicated the driving use of the arm to some degree. And of course, that Ford had no power steering, no automatic shifting—in fact it was on-the-floor-stick shifting. You would think that this accident would have slowed the number of trips to Provo, but not so. It really increased the trips, because he didn’t have to work while the injury was healing, and he was also getting Disability Moneys. He seemed to be able to maneuver the driving and shifting without any slow-down of trips to Provo.
My Mother had come to Provo to be with Charles and Laurene, who were attending BYU at that time, when their second baby, Wayne, was due to be born--due in late November or early December. However, the baby hadn’t come when Garth and I were released from school for Christmas Break. We had made plans to drive to Franklin for Garth to meet my family and officially “ask my Dad for my hand in marriage”. Mother decided not to stay longer in Provo and instead to ride to Franklin with Garth and me So the three of us drove to Franklin, through the beautiful Utah Canyons—I remember that well, because there was a full moon in a cloudless sky, showing up the rare beauty of the Canyons by moonlight.
We spent a wonderful Christmas in Franklin. I received my engagement ring for Christmas, Dad gave his whole-hearted permission for me to marry Garth, my family was totally in favor of my choice of a husband, and I was so proud to show off my handsome prince who had “stole my heart away”, completely.
After the Holiday, Garth and I drove back to Utah, still with plans partially made to return to Arizona to be married in June, after his graduation. However, as the winter wore on and the icy roads became more of a challenge, and our love grew to a higher pitch, we suddenly realized that we really didn’t have to wait until June to be married. We both had Spring Break in March, with time off from school and work. Why not go to Arizona in March and be married? And, really, why not? In actuality, I wasn’t doing much in school anyway and there was really no good reason to wait until June. So the plans for the wedding was moved up to the 21st of March.
I left Provo and went home three or four weeks early, to prepare for the wedding. Mother and I were going to make my dress and veil and other Temple Clothing and there were plans to be made and carried out for the wedding and reception. That was the longest weeks of my life—even though we wrote to each other on a daily basis. Our Arizona mailman, Jim Nations, would even drive down the lane to bring the letters to me, if I happened to not be waiting at the mailbox.
Finally, the preparations were completed and it was time to drive to Mesa to the Temple. Aunt Mae, (Mother’s Sister), and Uncle Frank McGrath lived right across the street from the Temple. Mother and Dad and Dorthy and I were to stay with them on the night before the wedding. Garth and his parents and Carl and Georgia were to drive down from Utah and meet us in Mesa, staying at Aunt Esther Whatcott’s home.
We arrived in Mesa the afternoon prior to the wedding. The Temple did not open for a session the next day (a Monday) until 5 O’clock in the evening. That was a long day for me. When night time arrived and the Whatcotts had not arrived from Utah by bedtime, everyone, at Aunt Mae’s, determined to go to bed. I was assigned to sleep on a bed located in their front, screened-in porch. I couldn’t resign myself to go to bed, until Garth showed up. Finally, he drove up and we met, briefly, then bid each other “goodnight, until tomorrow”, and he went to Aunt Esther’s home and I went to bed at Aunt Mae’s.
He picked me up the next afternoon when it was time to enter the Temple. The requirement at that time was for the Bride and Groom and their entourage to attend a full session for deceased persons, and then proceed to the Sealing Room to be married. This put the actual wedding fairly late in the evening—Carl and Georgia clocked the actual time of the pronouncement of the statement “I now pronounce you Man and Wife” at 9:25PM on that March 21st, 1949.
Now, on March 2, 2009, just 19 days short of 60 wonderful, love-filled, earthly years together, he passed on to the next phase of his life. The love, marriage, sealing and memories of those years are still with us while he is “deployed” to another sphere of our eternal lives. I looked up the word “deployed” in the dictionary and found this meaning: “to spread out so as to form a wider front”. And when I read this, I realized that this holds true for us. He has gone ahead to form (or prepare) a wider (greater) situation for those of us, his loved ones and family members, whom he loves with a deep, sweet, and forever love. I miss him terribly, but I would not wish him back here, suffering and unable to function as he was those last years of his life here on earth. He has, now, been relieved of the physical pains and restrictions and is free to progress and go forward again.
How very grateful I am for those wonderful years we had together. I know that we will, again, be together forever—and what comfort and happiness that knowledge is for me!

(Written by Doris Arnett Whatcott, January, 2010.)