My Father Hated Hippies



by Jake Jacobsen

Seattle, Washington

February, 2011

My father hated hippies.  At least, that is what one would think from listening to his tirades against long hair, beards, open sexual expression, drug use and sloppy apparel.  As a “child of the 60’s” with a desire to at least look like my peers, I was frequently on the receiving end of his outspoken displeasure with the counter-culture movement. 

The Original Paragon



My father Erling Jacobsen, was a commercial fisherman.  He was born in Norway in 1917, the eldest son of one of the few LDS Norwegian families.   His father died in a Whaling accident in Antarctica when Erling was 10, so he went to work to support his family, becoming a whaling ship captain in his early 20’s.  He was in Antarctica during WWII when the German army occupied Norway.  He took his boat to Newfoundland, joined the US Navy, married, and (after the war) moved to Seattle to become a fishing legend. 

He had built up a fleet of small trawlers and a fish processing company on a downtown Seattle waterfront pier, but by the late 1960’s he was down to one boat – the Paragon.   Built as a 98-foot wood halibut schooner, the  “Paragon” was converted into a stern trawler, with an aft net reel just outside the galley door.  

My father was one of a handful of experienced Washington trawl fishermen.  In the late 1960’s my brother and I, and even our older sister, would work on the boat during summer break.

The Love Family, 1972, Courage Israel on drum



The hippie movement spawned many communitarian social experiments.   One such movement in the Seattle area was The Love Family, also known as the Church of Jesus Christ at Armageddon.    Founded by Paul Erdman - also known as Israel Love (or Love Israel) - as a religious hippie community, they purchased some real estate and eventually began to prosper.   They acquired assets, including a fishing boat. 

I first heard of the Love Family from my father – and to be sure, it was not complimentary.   To an active, conservative Latter-day Saint, they represented a tragic degradation of modern society.   So I was surprised to find my father down on their old dilapidated boat, teaching them how to operate the engines and machinery.  Courage Israel, the vessel master, and his crew had little experience on boats, and even less experience fishing. 

Over the months of preparation for fishing, my father was the only fisherman who helped the hippies in their new venture.  Despite being competitors, he taught them how to operate their vessel. They had little money, even for necessities – so he gave them gear, parts and whatever else they needed.  Sometimes he would instruct me to go to the galley, prepare a box of food and bring it to them as they were hungry and lacked money for groceries. 

He “sold” them one of his very expensive nets.  The terms were simple – pay when you can. 

When their boat was ready, they followed us out of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and onto the fishing grounds of the Pacific west coast.   They set out their net where my father told them and hauled it back when he said to.   Over the months of fishing, they were our shadow. 

The next year, the Paragon burned to the waterline and sank at sea.  Fortunately, all hands were rescued.   This event created an opportunity for us to venture to the Bering Sea, and embark on long and storied careers as Bering Sea crab and trawl fishermen.  I don’t know how long Courageous and his crew of hippies fished, but years later a letter came in the mail.  It was from The Love Family.  It was a check for the net they had purchased – paid in full, with interest. 

Landing Pot, 1972

My father is a hard man.  He does not display emotion.  But as he read their letter of gratitude for his help, and held the check in his hand –tears formed in his eyes.  He didn’t need the money; by this time he was a successful and wealthy Bering Sea fisherman with two large steel crab boats.  The check meant more than money.  It was a token of integrity and gratitude from people he loved and selflessly served: hippies. 

Erling Jacobsen serves as a worker in the Seattle Temple.

Read more of our adventures on the Bering Sea at http://www.stormandsong.com/

Twelve Days of Christmas

by Cathie Wood Owens
Salt Lake City, Utah
12/2010

12 Days of Christmas

The year was 1995 and my husband was dying of kidney failure.  He had been on the dialysis machine for 20 years and his health was failing fast.  He withdrew from dialysis after a major health problem.  His health was so, that he was going to go to a care center and it was all arranged.  Then he asked me “can I just come home to die?”  So, he came home for his last 10 days on this earth. 

As we waited for the appointed time for him to return to our Heavenly Father, there were many angels that Christmas.  First of all the Spencer 4^th ward in Magna where we lived was filled with lots of angels.  They brought in yummy food every day, for my little family.  My son was 13 and my daughter was 7. 

The Christmas shopping had not been done, so Santa would probably not arrive that year.  However, two of my best friends Vickie & Barbara, from Beehive Clothing came to visit.  They asked if there was anything they could do.  I told them that the shopping had not been done, but that I had some money.  So, they enjoyed buying gifts for my two kids.  They brought all the gifts wrapped and put them under the tree.  What a relief to not go shopping and have things ready for Christmas.

I had lots of family support and they would come and take care of my husband while I ran to the store or return dishes to the ward members, and just got out of the house for a break.  I did not want to be away from my husband for very long so I would hurry as fast as I could.  This was the time that his mother could spend time with him also.  I slept on a mattress in his room so that all his needs could be met. 

Usually when someone takes themselves off of dialysis it is only a matter of a few days until they pass away.  But in my husband’s case, it took 10 days.  He always wanted to read the scriptures together.  In his last hour I remembered that we had not read together that morning so, his scriptures were there on the night stand.  As I read to him there was an immediate calm come over him and I knew he could hear my voice and was enjoying the time together.  You see, he had had some seizures in those final ten days that left him unable to talk. 

My sister in law Sherry is an RN and she came to our home after her work shift and was there to watch and give instructions that last day.  She would tell me some of the signs of a loved one passing and always knew what Steve needed. 

So much love and support was given, the phone was always ringing, the door bell with wonderful friends and family.  It was a hard time for me, but also a wonderful time of love and support.  The Comforter was so strong with me that there were many people that would say “I came to comfort you and you have comforted me.”  I am so grateful for the Comforter that Heavenly Father sends to us and the peace that is there.

While all of these events were happening on in the lives, our ward family was certainly filled with angels.  We started to receive a gift every night for the 12 days of Christmas.  We received pictures of the Savor framed, books, goodies to eat and a whole lot more, it was a wonderful diversion.  My children looked forward to the gift every night with much excitement.   The kids looked out the window to see who was coming to bring the next day of Christmas surprise.  But they never caught a one of them.  They were always so excited when the gift arrived and it was a wonderful time. 

My husband passed away December 19, 1995 at 12:00 noon.  It was hard to watch him pass, but he is now free from the pains of this earth and his earthly body.  Now I had to plan a funeral and get ready for Christmas.  Thankfully, my family was there to help, and one of my brothers and his family stayed for the whole Christmas time.  It was nice to have their company and support. 

All five of my brothers and their families, both sets of parents, and my husband’s brother’s family were there to give lots of love and support along with the Spencer 4^th ward members and friends from work.  I was so grateful to have so much love and support and all the angels that surrounded me, it was a very spiritual time in my life.   

The Lord lives and answers our prayers through others.  We are there to lift the burdens of those around us.  There is a time to give and a time to receive and we need to stay in tune with our Heavenly Father so we can be receptive to the needs of others and lift their burdens.  I am truly grateful for all the angels in my life and for their love and support.  Most of all I am grateful for the love of my Savior and His guiding hand in my life.  

Chicken Pot Pie

Audrey Call O’Brien

Provo, Utah

12/2010

Last night I re-learned priceless lessons through the kind service of an anonymous person in my life, and was reminded how immensely blessed I am that a wise Heavenly Father is aware of my needs, and prepares for them far in advance. Emotions mounted quickly as the reality of what currently was on my weeks plate became more then I could bear. The day had been "just one of those days"! Family interactions had blown up into a bit of drama and feelings were hurt, relationships were challenged, and frankly because I am just an emotional person I was emotional about the people I care about. I was feeling overwhelmed with the extra tasks the Christmas season demands, and lurking in the back of my mind some serious anxiety about an anticipated trip to Primary Children’s Hospital with my daughter. Before I proceed let me just say I am not a cook! I am not bad at it per say, I just don’t like it. It’s a challenge for me to get dinner planned and prepared and on the table every night. Our family life is so demanding that we usually only have the blessing of eating together on the weekends during wrestling season, but its super important that there is something of sustenance on the table when the girls eat and when the boys eat. I had been pretty on top of this in the previous weeks and days but as the day wore on I just didn’t have the energy to give. Just as my mind turned to what I could whip up and then as it lowered my weakened heart with that ever so ‘I don’t know that I have that to give tonight feeling’, a knock came to my door. and on the door was a freshly made chicken pot pie and a note that read ...

"Dear O’Brien’s, I realize that we may not have gotten this to you in time for dinner tonight, but we hope that this chicken pot pie might help make your week a bit easier. You can refrigerate it for a couple of days, or freeze for a couple of weeks but its better fresh. Bake at 425 for 35 min." 

With tears streaming down my face I walked over the oven and pushed bake and then the numbers 425. Then I walked down the hall and knelt down for a long emotional prayer. My Heavenly Father knew this was what I needed. And someone cared enough about me to follow the inspiration they received without any reasons behind it, not knowing what was going on in my life. I re-learned that I need to amp up my attitude of gratitude, I re-learned that I am not always the tool in HIS hands, that sometimes I am the recipient and that feels so good. I re-learned that I wasn’t relying enough on the Lord in my time of need. I re-learned that I need to get on my knees more

Nate, Audrey, Storie, Stockton and Saylor

often. And a new lesson,  I am making way here in this new home, new place, and that it’s not so bad, it still has its purpose.

A chicken pot pie made all the difference for me last night.

(You can read about Audrey and her remarkable family on her blog: http://hollandrocks.blogspot.com/

If you are curious about why 'hollandrocks' for the name of her blog, go to her blog and click on the link in the upper right corner. You will be blessed, I promise.)

The Cookie Tin...

by Jane Peterson Banks  10/2010
Las Vegas, Nevada

The Christmas season is stressful when you are out of work. We had been out of work for nine months by then. We were surviving but we were behind on our bills. We had been trying to be very faithful in attending our meetings, paying our tithes and offerings. We were hopeful that after the first of the year my husband would find work. We had not told a lot of people of our situation because lots of folks were in the same boat. I love the spirit that the Christmas season brings with it. We had, had several neighbors come over and we exchanged our goodie plates and cheerful wishes. One evening we had a knock at the door. We went to answer it expecting to see another of our neighbors but instead all we found was a cookie tin. We checked around but no one was there. We saw tail lights from a car heading up our street that was all. We yelled out into the night, Merry Christmas and thanks. We took the cookie tin in and decided to enjoy a cookie from within but to our surprise it was a tin with money in it. We were dumbfounded. We looked at each other and I started to cry. It couldn't have come at a better time. There was enough to pay our house payment with a little left. We felt so blessed by the generousity of someone. The Lord knows what you need. We did not ask for money directly but for work, so, that we could take care of our obligations. I know Heavenly Father loves us and blessed us through someone else that Christmas. I know that the Lord hears and answers prayers. I pray I can live close enough to the Spirit that when it whispers, I can be His helping hands here on earth.