Personal Journal
of
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 11, 2004 Mathew J. Stucki Page 1
Contribution to the life history of Richard and Marge Stucki
Though I was young during the time we lived at 2174 E 3715 S in Salt Lake City, my recollections of our home life on the Wasatch Front are poignant.
As I set to the task of recalling a specific memory to relate, I struggled with the dilemma of selecting just one meaningful encounter. There are so many. Which account should I choose? I realized that my life has been blessed with an abundance of good family experiences that I could share. Mom and Dad have been essential in helping create them.
Mom was always involved in helping us have fun and do good things; happiness was key. I remember that a lot of the enjoyable things we did were initiated by Mom: family vacations (Bear Lake, Yellowstone, and the West Coast are among my favorite), signing me up for baseball games in the summer, swimming club membership, Fourth of July parades and celebrations; neighborhood carnival at our home (imagine that); delicious home-cooked meals; and participation in scouts and the pinewood derby. Family vacations (singing songs, going off on excursions along the way, and daily surprise gifts to be opened by the youngest of us); exploring old farms while considering the possibility of moving to the country; homemade Halloween costumes and chili dinner before going to trick-or-treat are just a few. While other couples left their families to party with friends on holidays, Mom and Dad stayed with their children and made sure their celebrations involved us— I remember playing games on New Year’s Eve and honking the car horn and banging pans together at midnight to welcome in the new year; acting out the Three Chipmunks with homespun, stocking puppets; and savoring eggnog and oysters each Christmas morning.
I also have many fond memories of Dad during my childhood in Salt Lake: ice cream cones at Fernwoods across the street from Sherman elementary on Dad’s night out (a night set aside for each one of us children to go out with Dad on an individual basis and do something fun); building my pinewood derby car in the shop downstairs and his taking time to teach me the physics of a fast car (ours took first place); going to Father’s and Son’s outing each year and stopping to pick berries along the way. I remember hiking with Dad from the North rim of the Grand Canyon to the South rim as a young Scout. I was actually only an 11-year-old but granted permission to go on this Super Summer Activity with the older scouts (since Dad was scoutmaster). I longed to tag along each month on an overnighter. So Dad promised I could go on this Super Activity if I earned enough money along with the rest of the boys by cutting grass around headstones at a local cemetery for Memorial Day.
And admittedly, I wasn’t always the most pleasant person to be with as a young man, but at these times, Dad would cheer me up by threatening to “rough me up” and begin to pull some punches and wrestle … before I knew it, I was hunched over in laughter. Dad always knew how to bring a smile to your face and warmth to your heart.
I am grateful to have a plethora of cherished memories of childhood experiences with my mother and father. How proud I am to be numbered one of their sons.
of
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 11, 2004 Mathew J. Stucki Page 1
Contribution to the life history of Richard and Marge Stucki
Though I was young during the time we lived at 2174 E 3715 S in Salt Lake City, my recollections of our home life on the Wasatch Front are poignant.
As I set to the task of recalling a specific memory to relate, I struggled with the dilemma of selecting just one meaningful encounter. There are so many. Which account should I choose? I realized that my life has been blessed with an abundance of good family experiences that I could share. Mom and Dad have been essential in helping create them.
Mom was always involved in helping us have fun and do good things; happiness was key. I remember that a lot of the enjoyable things we did were initiated by Mom: family vacations (Bear Lake, Yellowstone, and the West Coast are among my favorite), signing me up for baseball games in the summer, swimming club membership, Fourth of July parades and celebrations; neighborhood carnival at our home (imagine that); delicious home-cooked meals; and participation in scouts and the pinewood derby. Family vacations (singing songs, going off on excursions along the way, and daily surprise gifts to be opened by the youngest of us); exploring old farms while considering the possibility of moving to the country; homemade Halloween costumes and chili dinner before going to trick-or-treat are just a few. While other couples left their families to party with friends on holidays, Mom and Dad stayed with their children and made sure their celebrations involved us— I remember playing games on New Year’s Eve and honking the car horn and banging pans together at midnight to welcome in the new year; acting out the Three Chipmunks with homespun, stocking puppets; and savoring eggnog and oysters each Christmas morning.
I also have many fond memories of Dad during my childhood in Salt Lake: ice cream cones at Fernwoods across the street from Sherman elementary on Dad’s night out (a night set aside for each one of us children to go out with Dad on an individual basis and do something fun); building my pinewood derby car in the shop downstairs and his taking time to teach me the physics of a fast car (ours took first place); going to Father’s and Son’s outing each year and stopping to pick berries along the way. I remember hiking with Dad from the North rim of the Grand Canyon to the South rim as a young Scout. I was actually only an 11-year-old but granted permission to go on this Super Summer Activity with the older scouts (since Dad was scoutmaster). I longed to tag along each month on an overnighter. So Dad promised I could go on this Super Activity if I earned enough money along with the rest of the boys by cutting grass around headstones at a local cemetery for Memorial Day.
And admittedly, I wasn’t always the most pleasant person to be with as a young man, but at these times, Dad would cheer me up by threatening to “rough me up” and begin to pull some punches and wrestle … before I knew it, I was hunched over in laughter. Dad always knew how to bring a smile to your face and warmth to your heart.
I am grateful to have a plethora of cherished memories of childhood experiences with my mother and father. How proud I am to be numbered one of their sons.
