Eb Lewis was a Legend

Eb Lewis was a Legend

October 29, 2017

     I was in the Baptistry for the first time yesterday on a busy Saturday afternoon. A group was finishing up while another ward had just arrived. A man noticed my tag and asked me a question. I responded that I was new and would have to ask Sister Kelly, who was training me. He asked where I was from and I responded, "Arizona." His face beamed and he replied, "Aw, Arizona.....I served my mission there........in the White Mountains for a year." I told him I was from the White Mountains. He immediately jumped in, "Show Low?"
     I wanted to cry. But I didn't. Elder Winkworth served mainly with Elder Moon over the time period of 1989/90. He recognized our name, thinking My Mike was the stake president then. Well, he wasn't-But it was as if Brother Winkworth had found gold. He couldn't get over the fact I was from Show Low. His two sons were standing by him and he asked them to assure me that he talked about Show Low all the time. They both nodded and replied that he sure did. He immediately began asking me about people. Floyd Gilmore was the ward mission leader and he always wore "these ties" (motioning to where Floyd's tie would have been) Now, I've seen Floyd many times in a tie. They look pretty normal to me but it sure made an impression on a young English elder. The more he talked I realized he had probably served in the second ward area. He knew the Turley's. He asked about Leroy and Mary Lou DeWitt. I told him they had served a couple of missions and were growing old together. Such good people. He replied with, "Of course. They were the salt of the earth"
He wanted to know about Eb Lewis. I told him that Eb was my dad. He could not get over it. "Eb Lewis was a Legend", he stated, "he took me in his little shop and helped me make a turquoise bola tie."
     We had to break up our conversation then, but, as we passed each other while we both did our duties, he would ask about wards or just shake his head in awe that I truly came from Show Low, AZ. In the final bit of conversation we had, he said, "Here is my lasting impression of Show Low.....everyone heated their homes with these pot belly stoves. They all burned alligator juniper. When I am outdoors and I smell smoke it immediately takes me back to Show Low. It has always been my dream to return there and show my family". I understand his analogy. The gardeners on the temple ground have a burn spot that is often burning in the evenings and when I smell it, I am taken Home to campfires, cookouts, and winter evenings.
    Now, you all may say that this was sure a happy coincidence. I say it was a miracle. The Lord blessed both him and me with this sweet experience. Brother Winkworth loves Show Low as much as I do. Even after almost 30 years of  his leaving the area. His memories took me back to a simpler time and the best people on the earth. I could hardly think of another thing after this experience. All I wanted to do was find My Mikie and tell him what happened.
     At the day's end, we met in the foyer of the temple. I immediately teared up when I saw him. He immediately teared up when I told him of my encounter with this elder. We both had a hard time controlling our emotions.
     I can't quit thinking of this encounter. It may well be the highlight of this mission for me. It may be what I need to carry on when I have a "blue" day. I was born to a legend. And might I add, my dearest mother is my hero too. I think of them every, everyday when I am in the temple. I think of my dearest daughters and their families. I think of all those people I love from our dearest Show Low. And I bet money that my new friend, Elder Winkworth, hasn't quit thinking of our experience either.

My most tender feelings,
Sister Seaman - aka Mom and Grams

Your English Lesson:

"Have a go at it" - Give it a try
"Are we winning?" - Is everything working out ok?
bits and bobs - a little of this; a little of that
Grit - When it freezes, grit is thrown on the roads. We throw cinders.
Kerfluffle - a mess or difficulty. Maybe a bit like, "Don't get your panties in a wrinkle (kerfluffle).

Lunch

     The late shift is kicking our tails.  We go in at 2:30 and home by 9:00.  They are are long weeks and we feel like all we do is spend our day in the temple.  We go straight to bed but can't go to sleep and then sleep late.  I am excited to go to "earlies" this week.  Hooray!

     England changed time Sunday morning from day-savings to regular.  The sun now comes up at around 7:00am and it is dark right now at 4:45pm.  This could be a long dark winter.  On the map, our longitude appears to be about the same as the lower part of the Hudson Bay up in Canada.  No wonder right?

     The bright spot this week occurred at our lunch break a couple of days ago.  We were sitting, eating and talking to the other "English" workers there.  I had made a batch of Hawaiian baked beans and had some for lunch.  They weren't that good as I had only found the very cheapest of the baked beans over here and had no spices in it.

    As I was eating them, one of the workers asked what I was eating.  I think it was an unusual site to see somebody actually eating beans.  He asked what it was, and I told him that I had made my famous baked beans but was disappointed in the turn out.  I told him it was due to the poor quality of the beans and that I could not find any hot sausage to go in it.  Sausage in England is almost inedible.

     The guy at the next table pipes up and said that he used "cooley beans" and went on talking about how spicy they were.  I said,  "Cooley beans, what's that?"  "Ya, ya." he says, "Cooley beans, that's what I said."  I said, "Did you say cooley beans?  I don't think I am understanding what you are saying."  He says, with great emphasis, "COOLEY BEANS."  By that time, his wife had entered the conversation and is laughing to the point of tears ( as is everyone else, except me and this guy.)  She says, " He is saying "curry beans."  Didn't sound like "curry beans" to me.  I looked at Kim and she is shaking her head, laughing and crying, trying to be polite and unable to decide what to say. I know she was hearing cooley beans too.  So I say to him, "Say it one more time, I can't get curry out of whatever it is you are saying."  He says no and is indignant that I, the dumb American, can't understand him.  Anyway,  if you are ever in England and somebody offers you cooley beans just say no thanks.  I have included a picture a can of "cooley beans" that was given to me today as a gift from our neighbors who were included in the above conversation.

     Well, so much for speaking the King's English.  I hope I get better at it.  I love and miss you all, especially after Kim's experience this week.  Pray for us and we will pray for you.

Sincerely,

Elder Seaman