Me & Cad

April Sleigh

Any child growing up with livestock who really enjoys them forms a bond with a special animal.  I vividly remember mine.  Every day as I boarded the school bus that transported me to Ladera Vista Junior High School in 1968, I would pass a boarding stable located in what was then a very rural are of Fullerton, Calif.   It was almost 100 acres of open land, now there is a condominium community there.  I can hardly drive down that street; my memories now lie under the concrete.  

However, doing what seventh grader’s do, I would stare through the window of the bus at a two acre pasture in front of the stable where they had some horses turned out.  Among them roamed a sorrel and white Tobiano creature that I lusted after day after day.

I struck a deal.  For a perfect report card I could glean this one perfect animal for my own.  With every bit of 12 year-old tenacity, I earned those grades.  And with those I earned the right to this unregistered horse, who turned out to cost exactly $150 and had a few additional aspects we were ignorant of at the time.  The board was to cost $10 a month and you bought your own hay at $3 for a 100 -pound bale.  My dad bought this horse for me with even less knowledge than the average first-time buyer.  He turned out to be a yearling stallion; not a great choice for a young girl’s first horse.  We never considered the fact that he could soon “awaken” and become the amazing, hormone-driven creature that stallions become, nor the fact that someone who might actually know something would have to train this horse before he could be ridden...in another year. Did I mention that part; wait a whole year to ride him?  Oh, did I also mention that my Dad failed to tell my mother that he bought this horse for me?

My dream was granted, that brightly colored horse I saw each morning on the way to school was now mine.   The previous owner, it seems, named him “Cad” due to the fact that he bought him at the Chino Tuesday night auction for $25, and then had to cram him into the back seat of an older Cadillac in order to bring him to the stable where I spied him each weekday morning. The vision of hauling him didn’t fully impact me, I thought of it as moving a large dog.

I learned to put a halter on him after being tossed into a dry creek bed trying to do it. With my feelings hurt, I fed this beautiful (splay footed), colorful creature into a lusty 2-year-old (possibly 15 hands), stallion and I learned a few new facts of life.  Stallions jump fences to breed mares, hence a cute little spotted foal the year my colt turned 3.  Far before that, however, my mom learned of these fence jumping escapades and the dangers which could ensue and promptly made an appointment with the local vet for what turned out to be a neighborhood event, a castration.  I think the young boy who thought I was the best thing happening at the time (we were 13 years old) almost fainted.  I thought it was quite gross, my mom, although disgusted, was assured this antisocial, unacceptable horse behavior would surely stop.

All this time I had never had enough money to buy a saddle.  This fact made it necessary for my most perfect horse to be started without one and by me due to that “not enough money” thing again.  What better way would any parent choose?  If one had a parent who understood these things we would never have been where we were at this point anyway, would we?  I did it myself out of necessity.  But I’d never trade scared first attempts and the resulting small successes, or the long rides through the orange and avocado groves of Fullerton and Yorba Linda.  Nor would I give up the summer  rides to Trader Joe’s Market to buy chips and strawberry soda (the kind that stained your mouth).  They had a hitching post out back, and I went with several friends bareback and in shorts.   We would sit on our horses and lean back on their backs and drink that red soda and laugh and share secrets. It would take all afternoon.  I can’t forget racing as fast as that horse would go down the dirt strip next to Bastanchury Road bareback and feeling the wind and the chill and seeing the sky and knowing, knowing, that I could go anyplace I wanted to go on the back of that spotted horse.  It’s good to be that young.  Even the air seemed alive, we were all on the edge of that magic that happens when you awaken from childhood and glimpse the awe of all that “is.”  I sold him 8 years later at the age of 20 when I bought my first AQHA horse and when I was closer to entering real grown-up life.

But back then I spent long summer days out of trouble with my friends, being hot, dusty, happy and caring for our best friends.  We played with the mosquito fish in the water troughs and ran barefoot down the hill while trying to miss the manure pile.  The creek at the bottom of the hill always had a little bit of water in it, and one day we came across an escaped coati in the eucalyptus trees, the wildest animal we had ever seen.  We were totally oblivious to the possibility of really getting hurt. We just didn’t know.  Ignorance was really bliss.  Thank goodness it was also bliss for our parents; they were too uneducated about horses to know that they had made bad choices in the purchases they made for their little girls.  Despite that, we all survived.
The horses taught us.  Mine taught me that I would do things differently for another child, but then I’m armed with possibly too much information, sometimes less is more.  The adventure is lost if everything is planned.  I and all my friends will never forget those carefree years running wild without supervision.  God surely watches over the innocent.

I am certain I surprised my parents (an engineer and an assistant to the director of an oil company pipeline department) when I continued on with horses for the next 40 years and am still involved as my livelihood.  Ultimately I met my husband doing what I love and we ended up in Emery County, a great place to live and raise horses.

Summer seemed to last forever back in the late 1960s.  Life was simple. We were oblivious to some of the more serious and frightening events of the times and we believed in everything and we trusted everyone.  And we learned and we tasted what was to come one glistening moment at a time. (Sleigh and her husband are owners of Rising Sun Quarter Horses and Arena, LLC near Castle Dale.)

All in the Mix

Rebecca Lofley

Kids and newspapers typically don’t mix, but mixing up this generalization is an exceptional body of students, the Emery High Spartan Shield Newspaper Staff.  A few weeks before school began, the newspaper staff met with advisor Neil Peacock and Principal Larry Davis to lay the foundations for our school newspaper.  After months of meetings, writing, layout, computer technicalities, and frustrating delays the first issue was printed and distributed on Oct. 30.  The process was far more complicated than any of us anticipated, but well worth it.

To begin with, we assembled a staff by calling on the English teachers to suggest staff writers.  We narrowed down the list, calling each of the students and inviting them to be on the staff while explaining all the commitment it would entail.  Some accepted, and some didn’t.  At this point we began meeting, discussing the different styles of writing: reporting versus editorializing and so forth.  We collaborated to come up with different sections and assigned everyone into sections that interested them.

After assigning “beats,” we began to work on our first issue, planning on its printing date to be late in September, assigning stories, following leads, and designing our layout.  We were just learning how to handle the basics of creating a newspaper, with deadlines drawing ever nearer.  With the help of many gracious people, experienced in the newspaper business and layout,  I learned how to work Indesign, a desktop publishing program used by most newspapers for designing their publications.  With a few especially dedicated members of the staff, we completed our first edition, staying after school for three to four hours several days in a row.  On our deadline day, unforeseen complications arose, and our printing date was postponed.

Over the course of the next few weeks, we attempted to print the September edition several times, but were still unsuccessful.  By mid October, after weeks of frustrating delays, printing became an option because Willie Frisbee, our computer genius, with Jason Bailey’s help, set up a system for easy transfer of Indesign files to our printer. 

By then, our news was too outdated to print on its own.  We went to work writing new stories, designing new pages, hoping that no further complications would arise.  After hours of more work, we were able to turn in our paper.  We waited to hear again that it wouldn’t work, but instead when the call came, we were assured it would be printed.  It was a relief.

Seeing the paper in print was the most rewarding step of creating our first edition.   Also, seeing the surprise of those who had no clue there was even a school paper and hearing their positive comments were aspects that made all our work worthwhile.  Though it was a success, there are still improvements that can and will be made as we continue to report all the news of Emery High in the coming months.  

Community Theatre to Present ‘Li’l Abner’

Karen Truman

The Emery County Community Theater is preparing for their 2009 production “Li’l Abner.” This production is crazy, wild and great fun.
L’l Abner originated as a satiric comic strip by Al Capp which ran from 1934 to 1977.

I have been surprised to learn that there are not very many young people who know what Li’l Abner is all about; so I decided to write this article to introduce you. 

Al Capp’s world famous characters have been placed in an upbeat musical extravaganza that is an outstanding show.  The show takes place in the hometown of L’l Abner, Dogpatch, USA.  What starts out as a calm day down at the fishing hole is quickly interrupted for Abner and his friends when a “Cornpone Meetin” is called in the town square. This means there’s to be “a hideous change in the Dogpatch way of life.”

Sure enough, the government has completed a study finding Dogpatch to be “the most unnecessary, no-account” place in the country, thereby calling for evacuation of the town so that atomic testing can be conducted on it.  Everyone frantically tries to find a reason why the town should be spared. In the meantime all the young single ladies are preparing for “Sadie Hawkins Day.”

What is that, you say?  Come and see March 12, 13, 14 and 15, 2009.

We will be holding auditions for the play on Nov. 18 -19, at 7 p.m., in the chorus room at Emery High School. For auditions we will require just that you come prepared with a musical number of your choice.  There will be more information in the “Commuity Happenings” section of the newspaper. There are some really enjoyable and entertaining parts in this play; such as  L’l Abner, Daisy Mae, Mammy Yokum, Marryin’ Sam, Eagle Eye Fleagle, Moonbeam Mcswine, Earthquake McGoon, and many more fun and exciting characters.  We need characters and all kinds of help with set creations, painting, make-up, stage crew, etc. 

Come and join the fun of participating in Community Theater. (Karen Truman will be directing the Emery County Community Theater production of Li’l Abner.)

CEU Presents Poetry Reading by Jason Olsen

The College of Eastern Utah welcomes students and the general public to a reading with poet and new CEU English Faculty member, Jason Olsen.  The reading will be Nov. 20 at 7:30 p.m. in the Alumni Room, Jennifer Leavitt Student Center.
Jason Olsen studied creative writing at Eastern Washington University and Western Michigan University.  He has been published in a variety of literary journals including The Mid-American Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, The Florida Review, Hotel Amerika, Hanging Loose, Rhino, and LitRag.   He has served as poetry editor for two internationally recognized journals—Willow Springs and Third Coast. He has written in a variety of genres, including a short play for which he was honored with an award at Western Michigan University.

The reading is free and community members are welcome to attend.  A reception with refreshments will follow immediately after the reading.

Volunteers Needed in Moab to
Help Rehabilitate Wetlands

Moab residents are well aware of the October fire that charred about half of the Moab Slough, also known as the Scott M. Matheson Wetlands Preserve, an important sanctuary for birds, mammals, amphibians, reptiles and fish.

The preserve represents one of the most important pieces of riparian bottomland along the Colorado River, and is home to many species of plants and wildlife.  Because of its importance as an environmental treasure trove, the preserve was jointly purchased by the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources and The Nature Conservancy.

The recent fire was man-caused, which is a tragedy for native plants, animals and the residents of Moab. Although nature is capable of healing itself over time, the DWR plans to give nature a head start by planting tree and shrub seedlings on Nov. 22.  Seedlings, tools, personnel and equipment are being organized for the event.  The only factor limiting the magnitude of what can be accomplished, is the number of persons on the ground.

For that reason, the DWR is calling for volunteers to help with this project.  We are looking for individuals, club members, organizations, scouts, church groups and anyone else with a sense of duty to their community and environment.  Please set next Saturday aside to help with this important effort. 

Interested persons and groups should meet at the Nature Conservancy trailhead, situated on the south end of the preserve, just off the Kane Creek Road.  Work will begin at 9 a.m. and conclude at 1 p.m.  Participants should bring work gloves, a shovel, beverages and lunch.  For more information, please call Chris Wood at: 435-820-6019.