This is a letter that Grandpa wrote in 1988 which is very appropriate for this Christmas.

Dear Family,

We have three red candles in our front room window. Holly and I cut two

fir trees some time ago from the ranch in Soda Springs; one small one Holly has in her room, and the other one she has decorated with tiny twinkling lights which shelter a pile of presents beneath. Altogether, there is a feeling of peace, goodwill and joy which brings back memories of past Christmases.

When the older children were small, they used to hang their stockings by the big stone fireplace. We had a little musical Christmas tree which turned around as it chimed. Jim was always trying to catch an elf by turning his head quickly. The snow deep and the weather cold as we bundled everyone up and went down to the old country church for the school Christmas program. For years we cut Christmas trees for many of our friends in Bozeman.

What a wonderful time it has been to have shared so many good times with all of you.

Your mother and I are now reliving those joyous times as we see you providing the same opportunities for your children (our grandchildren). Grandchildren are such a blessing as we see them growing up, each with endowments unique to himself.

Mother, Holly and I are well and happy. We are looking forward to being with Pam and Ray and family at Christmas time.

We wish distance didn't separate us so much, but we will be thinking of each one of you.

We love you for just being you and the good you have brought into our lives.

MERRY CHRISTMAS 1988

Dad and Mom.

These are pictures taken from Paul's house on the San Juan Island in September of 2007.

In January of 2008 I flew to the island of Molokai in Hawaii for a three week stay with my brother Gerald. We checked his cornfields in the mornings and went sight-seeing in the afternoons.

This past year has been a happy one for me; I am in good health and doing well thanks to the suppport of good neighbors and family. I think of all of you often and wish you the happiest of Christmasses and the new year.

Love, Mom