Aunt Marzetta's Home                                                                                                Vae View Subdivision

Vae View is a subdivision Dad had contracted to survey as a young surveyor during his early years as he engaged the profession of surveying (following his leaving Hill Field employment). It was during these years that Dad employed his young sons (Hugh, Jay and I [and sometimes Rick]) as members of his survey crew. I remember as we engaged surveying Vae View when it was little more than an empty field alongside the highway betwixt Layton and Clearfield. The whippoorwills often sang their greeting as we boys unloaded Dad’s survey station wagon prior to a dusty, dry day surveying streets, lots, curb & gutter, and sewers amidst construction crews and builders. I remember Dad being frustrated to the point of anger because construction laborers too frequently pulled up his survey markers (discarding them) and then wondering where such markers were when they truly needed them. Mr. Higley was a primary administrator of the Vae View Subdivision and frequented our home from time to time in order to coordinate with Dad regarding the project’s progress. Inasmuch as Mr. Higley represented demands and requirements imposed on Dad; we children began to absorb some of the animosity that seemed to accompany his visits to our home. To this day, Higley connotes anxiety and injustice in my mind. Inasmuch as many workers observed my father’s employment of his young sons as survey crew members; they would inquire as to how we (as young boys) fared as workers on Dad’s crew. To this Dad had a saying that would convey his assessment of his young crew. He’d say, “One boy’s a boy, Two boy’s is half a boy, and Three boys is no boy at all!” To this, men would nod knowingly and continue on their way. My brother Hugh, was the ‘transit man’ to begin with and was too frequently waiting for the rest of us to string out the ‘chain’ (the chain was a 300’ metal tape used to measure long distances accurately) and commence measuring (with Dad at the head of the chain and either Jay or I holding the rear of the chain against the nail atop a ‘hub’ recently pounded into clay ground). In order to pass time, Hugh would throw rocks. It didn’t matter where or when. Hugh was almost constantly throwing rocks – either at birds or into the water of a ditch or simply across vacant field. Dad often said that if he needed Hugh, he’d just look for a boy throwing rocks.

Of particular note is the occasion where we’d pause for a short while to acquire an A&W root beer mug alongside the highway between Layton and Clearfield. About midway, there was an A&W drive-in along the western side of Highway 89. We were all aware of its location and tempting refreshment each time we passed its establishment. And each time as we boys sat in the back seat, we’d await the telltale signs of slight slowing indicating that we’d be afforded a treat on our way home from Aunt Marzetta’s. We didn’t hold out a great deal of hope when our mother was the only adult in the car because she seldom (if ever) stopped at the drive-in. Rather, it was when Dad was driving that we’d quietly excite as the car slowed and entered one of the awaiting stalls where root beer could be ordered. Dad would order two large mugs of root beer for himself and mom. He’d also order five (or more) smaller mugs to be distributed among us anxious boys in the back seat. Upon having a laden window tray delivered to Dad’s window, he’d then carefully pass back a mug for each of us boys. We’d then quietly (busy drinking the cold delicious brew) hold our mugs near our chests as we sipped the frothy mugs carefully so as to protect such treasure from inadvertent spills. As we stretched each mug to its limit, we’d then relinquish it to Dad and the car hop would retrieve the tray. Contentedly we boys would then relax as we traveled homeward bound.