My Secret LIttle Spot

We left our little cottage and slipped out the backyard gate and into the alleyway. I was excited to show Jenelle my secret little spot. I had discovered it the day before and was sure that no one else in the entire world except for me knew it existed.
 
We walked down the alleyway, past garbage cans and garage doors, and down the hill that slopes toward Vista del Mar Avenue. Then I took this road to the left—not toward the beach—but to the left. Remember, this is my secret little spot. If it were near the main beach then everyone would know about it.
 
We crossed the road and climbed the hill at Ruta de las Tumbas (I have changed the name of the street to protect the identity of the location). Halfway up the hill on the right side of the sidewalk, nearly unrecognizable and somewhat camouflaged is a passageway. I had been on this road several times already and had never discovered the secret passageway. I suspect that most others never do either and if they do, perhaps they believe it to be a stairwell to a private residence.
 
The passageway is narrow, with tall walls on both sides. It slants steeply downward. At the bottom of the passageway it merely drops onto the sand.
 
Now we were on the nethermost corner of the beach. It is a short trot to an outcropping of rocks. We climbed up its edge and shimmied around the corner into a miniature alcove, blocked from sight to the rest of the land-based world. We sat down on a low stone shelf and watched the ocean before us. This was my secret little spot.
 
Jenelle loved it too. The brisk coastal wind was blocked within our lee-side haven. The sun neared the horizon, gently warming us. A small pool of water rested in a shallow cavity at our feet.
 
The sea toiled dark blue except for the white rolling waves. It is interesting that the waves in this nook of the ocean came toward the shore from two directions, both perpendicular to each other. They collided to create a turbulent stir.
 
In the distance we caught sight of two surfers paddling from shore. When they caught a roller they became black silhouettes, cruising smoothly on a glistening wave, the golden sun directly behind them.
 
Willets and gulls would occasionally glide above the water. They were silhouetted, too. On the horizon roved a sailboat. As the sun neared the line between earth and sky, the waves built up intensity.
 
Right now the rest of the world didn't exist. We watched in reverent awe at the mighty ocean, deep and powerful, with the ability to invoke a scene of beauty and also the capacity to kill. It was indeed a sacred site. ♠

First Time on Skis!

This is Dave, who has been on skis MANY times.

There's not a place on my body that's not bruised, battered or stretched!
 
It was time to get out and have another adventure with Dave and this time we chose cross-country skiing at 10,000 feet. The only problem was that I had never skied in my life.
 
We pulled to the end of the pavement, or at least to the end of where the county had pushed the snow, and from there we slid on our coats, backpacks, gloves and beanies, then clipped on our skis. I wasn't sure if this would be easy or hard, but I figured the only way to find out was to just do it.
 
With poles in-hand I maneuvered over the mound of snow pushed by the plows and moved onto a lightly used path. Dave had briefly returned to the vehicle and while he did I fell flat on my butt. Wipe-out #1. And the funny thing about it was that I couldn't get up! I looked like little Randy Parker rolling in the snow. I couldn't help but to lie there and laugh at myself.
 
Eventually I regained my footing, yet remained wobbly. It didn't take long before I biffed it again. This would be a long, long, day!
 

Vast meadows, once filled with wildflowers, now held three feet of snow.

Really, it was a shame that I had to spend my entire focus and energy looking at my feet to maintain my balance. We were in such a beautiful place. Pine trees grew all around. Vast meadows, once filled with wildflowers, now held three feet of snow. Crimson cliffs beckoned like a city skyline in the distance. We were in heaven, but all I could do was look down at my skis.
 
The distance traveled between wipe-outs gradually began to increase. I learned how to balance my weight over the skis and gained more confidence. Sometimes the point of the skis would come together like a pigeon-toed walker and naturally I would fall over. Other times the point of the skis would drift apart and I would involuntarily do the splits. That would hurt.
 
I fell in every conceivable manner: on my butt, on my face, on my hip, on my elbow. My hands and wrists took the brunt of many falls and I worried that I would twist a knee or ankle.
 
The easiest terrain was either flat, or slightly uphill. During these stretches I eventually did well, but as soon as we came to a downhill stretch I would lose control of my weight distribution and fall directly on my back.
 

Clay-colored cliffs were covered in a veneer of white.

We traveled about two miles to our turn-around destination. I estimate that I biffed it twenty to twenty-five times. I was happy to take the skis off for a moment and replenish my body with food and liquid.
 
We spent time at the overlook. This was an opportunity that not many people get to do. Although I had been at the overlook several times before, it was never during winter. This stretch of road is always closed during the the colder months.
 
Much of the clay-colored cliffs were covered in a veneer of white, with green coniferous trees poking through the layer. Most of the northern slopes sat covered in snow, while those facing the opposite direction had melted off into Ashdown Creek. In the distance we could see the globular radar tower on Blowhard.
 

Dave takes a break from gliding across the snow.

By now the breeze had picked up and it was becoming bitter cold. The sun inched toward the horizon. We certainly wouldn't want to be trapped out here at night.
 
My return trip ran much smoother. The skis glided across the snow and I felt I had a rhythm. Even though it was becoming easier, it still required a great deal of concentration.
 
At one point we stopped and for a moment just listened. A soft breeze blew through the trees and other than that there was nothing. Silence. Then two ravens lifted off from a tall pine tree and we saw the spread and flapping of their wings and the dusting of powder as it floated to the ground. Again it was silent.
 

Then it was silent.

Pink and orange hues of sunset began to gather on the clouds. We smelt the musky smell of pine needles. We were far from anywhere.
 
On our return trip I only biffed it five times. Dave biffed it once. As I gripped my poles I thought that this must be similar to how tight a jockey grips the reins of his horse. Although I wasn't falling down, it was still a challenge to stay standing.
 
At last we arrived at our starting point. I was very glad to unclip the skis and relax in a warm car on a soft seat where I had no fear of falling over. ♠

Pink and orange hues of sunset began to gather on the clouds.

Spanish Flu From a Hurricane Perspective

Old Bridge at Hurricane crossing Virgin River. (photo courtesy of Washington County Historical Society)

Spanish Flu killed nearly 50 million people between the years 1918 and 1920. It erupted during the turmoil of World War I which no doubt facilitated the spread of the virus. It did not discriminate, quashing large swaths of population all around the world, from New Zealand to Europe to the United States. It was one of the worst pandemics the world has ever seen.
 
The little town of Hurricane in Southern Utah was young during the pandemic, having only been settled twelve years earlier. My great-great grandfather, Charles Adelbert Workman, and his family were among the first settlers on the Hurricane Bench. He faithfully kept a journal, recording the town's reaction to the pandemic.
 

Family of Charles and Josephine Workman.

The year began like any other. In spring they began planting a large garden that included peas, watermelons, strawberries and currant bushes. Charles bought a new Ford car and they also saw his brother-in-law Henry off to war. They also experienced tragedy when their son, Eldon, was electrocuted to death. But in October, a pall of a different sort fell upon the town. On October 14, 1918 Charles records in his journal:
 
“The town has been quarantined for Spanish Influenza and I have been employed by the Town Board to notify travelers as they come into town to not put up at hotels. They are permitted to get supplies of gasoline, etc. but not to stop in town. There are no cases of influenza here yet but it is spreading through the country rapidly. The State Board of Health has ordered all public schools closed, and prohibited public gatherings in towns where the disease exists.”
 
The next day he writes: “Have been watching the road all day for travelers to notify them of the quarantine. Stayed in my car at the north east corner of town where the state road crosses the bridge over the north ditch this afternoon.” The next day he is at it again: “Have been enforcing the quarantine again today. Stationed in my car at our lucerne field gate. Made some repairs on the gate.” The next several days he writes that he is still on guard. Sometimes he goes on guard in the morning until early afternoon, and at other times his shift is from late afternoon until midnight.
 
The public order also affected their Sabbath worship service. Charles was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and as a devotee he attended church every week. On Sunday, October 20th he writes: “There have been no public meetings today on account of the order of the State Board of Health that no assemblies be allowed. The object is to prevent the spread of the Spanish Influenza. Thousands are dying with it all over the United States. I have been on guard again today to enforce the quarantine.”
 
On the 28th Charles explains the scope of the pandemic throughout the state of Utah and also in Washington County, of which Hurricane belongs: “I am still guarding the town to keep out influenza. There are thousands of cases of it in Utah and hundreds are dying. It is in every county in the state except Washington County. There are no cases in this county yet that we know of. It has spread all over the United States and to some extent in Europe and other parts of the world. Whole families die of it, and sometimes two or more of a family will die in one day. It begins like a cold, a high fever followed by a chill and coughing and sneezing. In the fatal cases it is followed by pneumonia of some other complication.”
 
As November comes a cold wind blows from the north. The quarantine guards set up a tent with a stove inside. Word comes that the first local residents are infected with Spanish Influenza. These families include those of E. N. Stanworth, William Ruesch and Albert Russell. By November 13th it is reported “about a dozen cases of the Spanish Influenza in town, but they are all getting along well.”
 

Home of Emanuel Nutter Stanworth in Hurricane, Utah.  Several members of his family were infected with Spanish Flu in 1918.  (photo courtesy of Washington County Historical Society)

On December 4th, Charles Workman is appointed as Justice of the Peace for the town of Hurricane. I find his first case interesting: “Fined S. B. Chipman $5.00 for breaking the order of the Health Board that requires everybody to wear gauze masks on the streets and in public places.” He also fined half a dozen men, including two relatives, for “breaking health regulations.” On another occasion he fined two people from Cedar City $5 each for going into town without permission.
 
The first death from Spanish Flu in Charles' account is recorded on December 21, 1918: “Horatio Pickett, my wife's father died this afternoon of influenza followed by pneumonia.” Horatio was 70 years old and living in St. George at the time. The diary mentions no funeral so perhaps they tried to keep it small to prevent spread of the virus.
 
The following day—a Sunday—Charles wrote the following: “Pres. Heber J. Grant [President of the Mormon Church] has designated today as a special day for fasting and prayer for the relief of the people from the scourge of influenza that is sweeping over the earth. It is one of the most dreadful diseases that the world has ever known. Hundreds of thousands of deaths from it have occurred and almost all parts of the civilized world have suffered from its ravages. There were no public gatherings [a.k.a. church meetings] today.”
 
From this point forward, life on the Hurricane Bench appears to have gradually returned to normal. On Sunday, December 28 the first church services were held since October.  Four days later on January 2 the schools reopened. There are only a handful of brief mentions of guard duty or someone breaking quarantine rules.
 
It appears that one of the last restrictions was that of allowing outsiders to stay in town. On April 15, 1919 Charles records one of his last entries relating to the Spanish Flu: “A number of [sheep] shearers came in today but I did not let them stay in town on account of the quarantine. They expect to begin shearing at Gould's in a few days.” ♠

President Heber J. Grant.