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THE 1989 STORY OF THE
11th ANNUAL L.A. IVERSON REUNION
Always held on Memorial Day Weekend at the
A-Z Ranch, Mohave Co. Arizona: by Carla
Chapter 1.
A short tale of woe: Tracey, myself, and three kids left California
Wednesday at 2AM when I got off work; to got to the reunion. The plan being that Craig would come with Kurt’s family in their camper on
Friday. Tracey and I got to Utah OK—in spite of a little car trouble. I
mean we even got there the same day that we left California.
However when Friday arrived it was a whole
different story for Kurt and Craig. They started up the road just fine,
but trouble soon developed. The truck transmission sprung a leak. Now not
being pikers by any means, and also no way wanting to miss the
reunion—they poured in more fluid and chugged on up the road.
By
the time they got to Baker California it was leaking so badly, that they
decided to turn back and try to limp it home. While Kurt and Craig were
talking this situation over with a service station man, and asking the
where abouts of an auto parts store back down the road a piece; Paula went
back in the camper to check on the kids.
When she got out of the camper to get back into the truck cab she
had just put the key into the latch to lock the door, when to her surprise
off drove the truck and left her standing there in the desert holding her
key in midair.
It really didn’t contribute much to her mood of
the moment, especially when she had to chase them down the road with wolf
whistles and other offers coming from passing cars. Some smart alec
suggested she call a taxi; however I believe my first choice would have
been an attorney!
After
all this was resolved to everyone’s satisfaction (more or less) they
limped on back down the road until they got somewhere near Victorville. At
this point they were having more out flow than input of fluid, and the
transmission caught on fire. More fun!! Paula said you never saw three
people move so fast as they did getting kids, and dog out of the camper!
When they were all safely out Kurt and Craig started throwing dirt
on the fire-- with most of the dirt going into Craig’s face, according
to one report. Kurt finally got it out with a jug of water they managed to
lay hands on. When they had time to think about it all, it was decided it
would have been much easier if they had just used the fire-extinguisher
that was in the camper as standard equipment!
Well to end this little tale, I’ll just say that the truck has a
new transmission getting broke in good for next years trip to the reunion.
Chapter 2. The reunion was a great success in my
opinion. Lee and Duard did good! All first generation members were there
at the same time for the first time! It was really great to have Lee,
Marge, and Lee Alan out from Ill.
I knew they were coming this time, when I talked to Lee on the
phone two months ago, and he told me they weren’t. (But I just know
about these things) I hope they had as much fun seeing us as we did them;
and will come back real soon. Maybe if we keep working on it we can get
Steve to come along also one of these years.
Time
seemed to fly by so fast; I didn’t get to visit with Lee and Lee Alan
very much. Surely did enjoy the visit with Marge, short though it was.
Although I hadn’t seen her for eleven years, we didn’t have to waste
any time getting reacquainted—she’s still just the same Marge I’ve
always known and loved.
The
ranch house has under gone a major rejuvenation.
The main rejuvenators were Boyd, Garn's, Max's, and other willing or
unwilling participants! The improvement is remarkable. I understood Cyle
to say it took them eleven weekends, and they still plan a few more
finishing touches. I though it looked terrific.
There were 73 people there at or about dinnertime. Someone remarked
that it was probably the most people that had even been in the house all
at the same time. It just holds more now that it’s one big room.
Fourteen
people slept in the house Saturday night, and I was told that seventeen
had been bedded down there the night before. Duard wanted to know if 73
was a record number for attendance. But I don’t believe it is. Seems to
me we ha over 80 one year-- a goodly number of them being guests. I
usually depend on Max for these figures, as he writes them in the journal.
However this time I talked Tina into taking care of the journal until next
year, so we’ll give you all the facts then.
The
remodelers had saved all the beds, table, wood box, and all things of real
or imagined value. When I was looking for the dustpan Nita told me it was
where it had always been, hanging on the side of the wood box. But because
the wood box had been moved, I became a bit disoriented, which seems to
happen a little more frequently these days. However with that clue, sure
enough I found it!
While
working on the house they had piled all debris—walls, worn out floor,
old tack house, etc., into a big heap east of the house and down the hill a ways. After dark they lit a match to it. That was some bon fire; it was
really quite spectacular! Quite a few were taking pictures, so hopefully
we will have some good ones for the album.
They
had also scraped off some of the cistern hill, just south of the house,
and made a flat place for parking campers and pitching tents. There was a
little group of tents up there, which the inhabitants referred to as the
A-Z Hilton. They proclaimed them to be warm and cozy in spite of some
rather unpleasant weather conditions. The volley ball court had been moved
to the north of the house, and they had built up the east yard with dirt.
All in all it is a great improvement. They did a swell job, and are to be
congratulated. Oh yeah they
also moved the little houses. I asked Cyle how to tell his from hers, and
he said, “knock on the door and if there is no answer it is a hers! “
Good thinkin’ huh?
We
had some of the usual activities. Wheel of Fortune (I swear next year
we’re going to have a different game.) The jelly bean guess, won fair
and square by Tiah, when she and Lee were in a tie—she was just the best
guess-er no doubt about it. Mary did a treasure hunt for the kids, which
they really enjoyed, and they all get to share in the treasures, no matter
who finds it first, Was also a art contest for the kiddies. The girl
winner was Ashley Hawkinson, and the boy was Radlee Iverson. Wynter
(Ashley’s sister) thought it was rigged because she knew her picture was
better than Ashley’s was. However Dick our pro artist was the judge so
it had to be on the up and up! All near winners got lollipops.
Then
came the program. Chris was director, with Scott and Cindy’s kids doing
the acting. They did a skit called Along Came Jones. It was really cute.
Good job one and all. Hal did his poem which was excellent as usual, and
Brad did House Rules of the Ranch, which was hilarious; guess he has
become an Arizona Stripite in spite of himself. Now if we could just
convince him that we do have a horse, or used to have a horse, or some day
maybe we will have a horse, or-- As the program progressed we also had
pickers and singers, thanks to all those who took part, and were such good
sports.
Cyle
had given me the first volume of our long hoped for book, to pass out to
all first generation family members. It became evident after a glance or
two, that there were two members that did not contribute so much as a word
to this masterpiece! Now just why do you think this was????
(1) They didn’t want to jeopardize Mark Twain’s
place in history. (2) They didn’t want to admit they had been raised on
the Strip. Or (3) they are just natural born procrastinators? I really don’t want to mention any names here-but one
of these persons just moved into a new house down by the river. The other
one rides around the countryside in his country Cadillac, and tells
Japanese spy stories!
We
are expecting much better participation next year, as our book is a long,
long way from being finished. Everyone start writing now for the next
edition. Many thanks to Garn’s family for all the work they did on the
first volume.
A
big source of entertainment for the younger group was the small motorized
vehicles brought by Jamie. He took the kids for rides and saw that they
all got ride for three solid days. You had to be tough to stay out in the
weather we had, the wind was horrendous! But then looking on the bright
side—I never saw a single gnat. Guess they just couldn’t get their
landing gears down in such a gale. Didn’t seem to bother the kids too
much though. I noticed B J was sunburned, wind-blown, and dust blind, but
he was still out there riding those machines. Even I had a short ride on
one with Coal early Saturday morning before the wind reached hurricane
force-it was kinda fun!
Family
dinner on Saturday was excellent with most of the usual-Boyd made his
spicy beans; his friend Darlene also brought beans, not so spicy. Both
were super fine. Mary made hot scones, and there were cakes, cookies, and
home made ice cream, which was enjoyed by all.
Chapter
3. Sunday morning Barb
and I cooked breakfast for about two hours, after that someone else took
over. When all were fed; and the ones who had gone to town to spend the
night had returned; we started talking about a trip to the top of the
ledge, where you can look off at the ranch house. It seems that Max’s
and Garn’s had discovered this “road” on a map Tina had gotten in
Phoenix. (I don’t care if you are getting tired of reading this, keep
going! It gets better??)
Plans
were made and off we went. At first three granddaughters and myself were
with Boyd, Darlene, and Tom. But when we got to the turn off on top of
Trumbull Mountain, Boyd’s country Cad (he left his city one home)
couldn’t brave the road, so the girls and me transferred to Max’s
pick-up. Boyd’s group went on over to Nixon to show Tom the water
faucet, as did Tom believe Boyd when he said there was a faucet over
there? Noooooo way!!
Now
we are with Max and Nita who also have Brent, Linda, and Kevin with them.
Following close behind in his truck is Mike, Debbie, and Tina; as well as
Bonnie and Clyde. (They’re dogs) The road we were supposed to turn off
on from Temple Trail was rather dim to say the least, so the people who
had been there before built a monument named Mountain Dew, for the obvious
reason that they had put up some rocks and hung a Mountain Dew can on both
sides of the turn off trail.
Max found it. Mike didn’t! When we discovered Mike had missed it
and was no longer behind us, Max turned around and tried to catch him
going north on Temple Trail. After
several miles Max said, ”I don’t think we can catch them before they
get clear to St. George.” So
he decided to look for a place to turn around and we hoped that they would
realize that they’d gone to far and turn back also. Nita suggested she
leave a diet Coke can in the road so they’d know for sure she had been
there, and that this was the place!
Before
any of these plans could be put into action we met them on the next curve
coming back. As we drew side by side, Mike gave his Dad this
look-somewhere between total indignation and bewilderment, and exclaimed,
“Why did you ditch us?” “Ditch you,” says Max, in amazement, “I’ve been trying
to catch you for nine miles!”
We
got all turned around and started back, when lo and behold, here we meet
Tris and Glenna. They had missed it too! So back we all went, and with no
further ado we finally made it to the “Edge of the Ledge”. Garn, Cyle,
Lee, Marge, and Lee Alan were already there. What a marvelous view it was!
All my life I have wanted to look off the top of the Ledge, and now I
have. We had a mirror and flashed signals to those at the ranch house, and
they flashed back. Of course nobody knew what anyone else was saying, and
didn’t really care we just had a good time flashing. (That didn’t
sound quite right did it, oh well)
On
the way back we stopped and took pictures of Mountain Dew Monument so
never again will it be missed. Maybe!
Meanwhile back at the ranch (that wasn’t an original line) Duard
and Barb were cooking up Dutch oven potatoes, and Darlene was frying
hamburgers. So we all had a fine meal again topped off with more ice
cream.
Probably
everyone in the family except me knew that Clyde Rosenbury (who years ago
lived on the ranch just south of us) had a thriving olive tree. On the way to the ledge, Boyd told us about it. But since he
has been known to lay a story or two on you--if it so strikes his fancy, I
wasn’t too sure. But coming back Max tells the same story; so with them
both telling the same tale, I decided maybe Clyde did bottle his own oil.
I know he kept a few other “bottled” products around there. But then
on the other hand it is entirely possible that Boyd and Max are in cahoots
against me! It has been known
to happen.
Chapter
4. It’s late afternoon on Sunday. Tracey kids and I must soon leave.
Tracey had stripped her nine-month-old baby Misty down to her pampers, so
she could have a red licorice. One minute Misty is sitting in the middle
of the floor all happy eating, and smearing red stuff all over her self,
and the next I hear is a squall that sounded like a wounded cougar cub,
and Boyd was yelling for me to bring a camera. Can you believe it, Tracey
had taken that babe out on the patio, shucked off her skivvies, and stuck
her in a #3 was tub of cold water!
Mercy,
mercy, my Mom used to put me in a wash tub also, but she did dump in a
teakettle of hot water first! In Tracey’s defense I will say that Mike
had already set the example by taking a cold water bath in his swim-suit
in a real bathtub that is behind the house. So I guess Tracey just figured
when in Rome, etc.
Now
it’s time to leave, and I haven’t even got half of my visiting done. I
really hate to go. Just as we were leaving Garn asked me if I had had a
good time. Yes I say, I’d like to stay another couple of days. He
chuckled and says,”well now, I don’t know if I’ve had that
much fun!” Then I find out
later that he stayed another night and half a day! See there! He had more
fun than even he knew about!
Max’s went to the Grand Canyon on Monday, and
were the last ones to leave the reunion, which is traditional by now. Also
heard a group gathered at Garn’s in Vegas the night before Lee’s left
and had more ice cream.
It
was a great reunion; it had to have been good for Tris to show up two days
in a row! Next year Harley and I have our turn (again?) at organizing the
event. We expect everyone to be there. You’ll like it, we promise!
At
Barb’s suggestion we plan to do a time capsule, with at least one thing
from each family to go in it. You have a long time to think about what to
put in, so there will be absolutely no excuses when the time comes. I
think I will put in a letter since I can’t quite bring myself to part
with the Hope diamond! I don’t know just how big this capsule will be
because as yet I haven’t asked Kurt how big he is going to build
it.
The
plan is that it be opened in twenty years that will be 2010 at the 32nd
annual Iverson reunion—at the direction of Tina Hatch. Of course it may
be opened sooner, by majority vote, only in case of some unexpected MAJOR
disaster, such as a nuclear attach by Russia, the end of the world, or the
ranch passing out of Iverson hands! See
you next year.
Once again the L. A. Iverson family has been
visited by tragedy
And sorrow. There are no words to express our
sympathy and love for Max and Nita, so will
simply end with this.
DAVID HANS IVERSON
Jun 15,1971—Dec 11, 1988
Not a day has ended with the fading of the light
that we have Not remembered you David,
Goodnight.
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