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I

The Early Years

In the year 1910, Carl Burton asked Ella Christopherson to marry him. When she answered that she would, he immediately started building a red brick home on the 2200 block of South State Street in Salt Lake City. This is the home in which I was born on June 16, in the year 1916. (Some people do not place a paragraph indent. They simply separate paragraphs with a blank line.)

* * * 
(one way to show a time or place shift within the chapter)

(or)  §  

Taylor, my older brother, and my younger sister Jane. . . . 

The Early Years (Headings can be italicized) 

JAMES DEVALSON CUMMINGS 1859

(Benjamin Franklin, James, James, Oliver, Nathaniel, Nathaniel, John, Isaac)

James Devalson Cummings, the only son of Benjamin Franklin Cummings and Mary Jane Yearsley, was born 30 September 1859 in Willow Creek, now Willard City, in Box Elder County, Utah. . . . 

It was the adobe house in the hollow that Devalson referred to in his personally written history of himself when he said,

"It was here that I spent many laborious as well as delightful years. Most of my adolescent period was spent here. I grew and did the things that all normal boys do. I tried hard to emulate the fine teachings of my parents, for they were humble and sincere in their efforts to teach me right principles." (Quoted material of several lines can be set apart with a double indent and with a blank line above and below.)

Devalson’s youth was spent working on the Yearsley-Cummings homestead farm near the mouth of Parley’s Canyon near 20th East. He worked in the fields and helped in any way that he could.

As Devalson’s granddaughter, I was able to be present at his funeral. His body was laid out in a casket in his parlor at home where a great many people came to pay their respects. The parlor of the Cummings family was a very special room which, as a small child, I only remember being allowed to go in twice. To be able to be in there for this special occasion was almost overwhelming to me. I remember being frightened to go in because, as yet, death was an unknown thing to me, and I was afraid that if I went in that room, grandpa would be sitting in his big chair, but of course that was not the case. I remember when my father lifted me up to see in the casket, that grandpa looked so calm and peaceful in his sleep that I didn’t feel bad or worried any more. I do remember that I missed him a lot because he was always so kind to me. (To right justify the right margin or not is personal choice. This paragraph is not right justified. Most books do right justify.)

His sons wrote a tribute to him.

"As a tribute to our dear father, we, the sons of James Devalson Cummings desire to pay our humble tribute.

He was a most kind and loving father.

As a civic leader and organizer he did much to unify this community. It was through his efforts that schools were built and maintained in this community.

He was one of the first teachers in this section. He also served as a member of the Board of Trustees.

He was president of the Lower Mill Creek Irrigation Board for many years. Though not a lawyer, he acted as legal advisor for hundreds of people. He was a Notary Public.

His influence with people was far reaching. People who came to him in the depths of despair were oft times seen to leave him with their hearts gladdened and their burdens lifted. His jovial spirit, and keen sense of humor could make the darkest clouds have a silver lining.

(The following is copied as written in her short journal) (Preserving spelling)

"Monday Tuesday May 1 Wednesday very rough and I was very sick in Bed all day. The saints where carried on deck those that could not walk up and were lying on deck in blankets with their sun hats before them.

May 2, very rough. Betsy James were stayed at the bow of the vessel when once she came and Book of James Shanter into the water and it went back bound for Liverpool. If it did not stop on the road and as soon as that was gone over came the spray and dressed them both. Poor James. Bar headed Betsy had to go down and change all her things.

May 3 very fine. it was a dead calm.

May 4 very rough in the evening remained below had some good songs Harriet and I went on deck after meeting and watched the water and the waves roling very high and the people slipping about from one sid of the ship to the other. we were allowed to remain on deck till ten.

Monday 6 very rough Betsy Fanny stayhed in Bed all day Harriet I and James went on deck and got wet through with the spray it realy is good fun to see the people rolling about in every direction getting wet through you know I allways laught at midcief.

Tuesday 7 fine James sick for the first time not sea sickness.

Wednesday 8 nice fine day.

Thursday 9 very foggey.

Friday and Saterday 10, 11 very foggy.

Sunday 12, very rough and wet held the meeting below.

Thursday calm a fine concert held on Board wek is the 2nd.

Tuesday 21 very calm pilot came on Board and Land just in sight we were permited to stay on deck as long as we wished went down about 12.

Wednesday 22 very fine were all called on deck between 33 and 4 to pass the doctor Land in sight we were very glad to see it not having seen anything but sky and water for a month. Then went ashore in a steam Boat for Castle Gardens. slep that one night.

23 started early a little way up the river so the station had our luggace weighed and started about 10 o’ clock for dunkirk reached thear.

ANCESTORS OF JOSIAH AND MARY WRIGHT SAVILLE

John Savill, born about 1743 of Saffron Walden, Essex, England, married Sarah Reynolds, daughter of John Reynolds and Martha Beadle Reynolds, on the 20th of October 1774 in Saffron Walden. (One way to describe ancestors, especially when not much is known.)

She was born about 1753 and also lived in Saffron Walden. John died and was buried on the 17th of May 1793 in Saffron Walden and Sarah died the 20 of August 1825 and was also buried in Saffron Walden.

They had two known children, a daughter Sarah Savill, who was christened on the 25 August 1775 in Saffron Walden, and a son John Savill, who was christened on the 29th of October 1779 in Saffron Walden.

John Savill married Sarah Crane on the 7th of March 1808 in Saffron Walden. He was a cordwainer (shoemaker).

John died the 15th of September 1860 in Saffron Walden and Sarah died the 4th of February 1829 in Saffron Walden.

Josiah Savill, (our ancestor) was born the 11 of October 1816 in Saffron Walden and married Mary Ann Wright on the 3rd of August 1841.

These constitute the only known ancestors to the present date of Josiah and Mary Ann Wright Saville. It is hoped that at some future date, these lines can be traced back further.

It would be interesting to be able to find where the line meets the Jewish/French lines that George Wright Saville indicated in his handwritten biography. . . .

Preface 
 (Headers like "preface" can be in larger type size and/or a different font.)

Charlie D. Fabrizio (Pasquale Pasqualetti), my paternal grandfather, and Rosie (Rosa) Defa, my paternal grandmother, were pioneers. The legacy they left us is a product of the whole of their lives. I am Charlie and Rosie’s oldest grandchild. They showered me and all their grandchildren with attention and love. Now that I am a grandmother, I understand how a grandchild can melt the heart of a grandparent and how a grandparent can fiercely fall in love with a grandchild. The feeble attempt on my part to write their history will never in words describe who they were or what they did. (This paragraph is Arial font 12 point.)

(The following is in Time New Roman 12 point.)
It was evident that afternoon in the Spring of 1968 that Grandpa had just come from the sawmill because sawdust shavings and dust were clinging to the hair on his head, arms, ears and nose. He had on the dark blue cotton shirt and matching pants that he always wore. Grandma kept his work clothes clean and pressed. In the summer, the long sleeves were unbuttoned and rolled to his mid-forearm. When he wasn’t working, a pair of gloves flopped from his back hind pocket. In his shirt pocket, was his "day planner"– pieces of paper, a small notebook, and a pencil.

I’ll never forget that afternoon when he sat next to me on the couch with that big smile on his face that warmed my heart. His blue eyes were directly connected to his heart and soul. (This is Times New Roman 14 point. On your printed page, the 14 point will not appear to be "bold" as this computer example does.)

He had a strong upper-body and big thick hands. His black hair was combed straight back. Although Grandpa spoke fluent English, he had a thick Italian accent that was endearing to the family. (This is Arial 14 point. On your printed page, the 14 point will not appear to be "bold" as this computer example does.)

Grandpa Charlie, an orphan, was born in Italy. Although he was a little shy and didn’t like talking about himself, he agreed to let me record his unique story. It took some nudging, but he finally consented to that informal interview with me one-on-one. We set the simple ground rules. I told him he couldn’t be doing anything else while we talked, and he told me it had to be quick. I had some ideas of what I wanted to ask him, but at the time I was only 22 years old, and I now realize there were many questions not asked and many events not recorded.

One regret is that his biological mother is unknown in our genealogy because the orphanage (and all its records) where she placed him at birth, burned to the ground many years ago. However, recently a loose paper was discovered in a box indicating that Charlie’s parents may have been Joe Papanardi and Virginia. No further research has been done as of this date. In spite of this and some other oversights, he did leave us some feelings and facts that will be used in this history. As he talked, I took notes in shorthand.

The gas pump was somewhat of a novelty in those days and quite unique. It had a long handle on the front, with a large glass bowl on top. Tom described how it looked and how it was used: (Quotation marks for quoted material are not required when double-indenting.)

To fill the glass bowl with gas, we would pump the handle back and forth, sideways. Then we put the hose with the nozzle into the gas tank of the car. By pulling on the handle, the valve would release the gas from the bowl and it would flow into the gas tank of the car. The bowl was numbered from one to ten. The customer would tell us how many gallons they wanted and we would pump to that level. If they needed more than ten gallons, we would empty the first ten into their tank and then start the process over again. That old hand gas pump had a sign on top that read, "22 cents a gallon."

This first store was the beginning of what eventually evolved into their successful convenience store business.

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Or call us: 1 800 360-5284.

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