I Wrote This Poem for Alex Birthday 2006

ALEX CARRILLO

3/22/1942-4/9/2004

Today would have been Alex' 64th birthday. I miss him so much. I wrote a poem for him. The last birthday I spent with him we had a great time with Kipp and Tina at the Clark Planeterium. Little did I think that day that this would be his last birthday here on earth.

For Alex on his birthday

Happy birthday honey

Although you are not here

You are always with me

Each day of the year

I miss you so much honey

I miss your sweet hello

You were always thoughtful

Why did you have to go?

The things we did together

The places that we went

Were always such a joy to me

I never will forget

So all I have is memories

Of days so glad and bright

But now the days are kind of gray

And gloomy as the night

But you are always with me

In every kind of way

You were there when I needed you

When my day was gray

So happy birthday honey

It’s almost been two years

I celebrate the memories

And I know your spirit is near.

March 21

Lament

I didn't write this poem but I remember it from school. It fits how I felt after losing my loved ones. The poem is matter-of-fact until the last line. The last line tells exactly how it is. It tells all.....

Lament

LISTEN, children, Your father is dead

From his old coats I'll make you little jackets;

I'll make you little trousers From his old pants.

There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there:

Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco.

Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank

Anne shall have the keys

To make a pretty noise with.

Life must go on And the dead be forgotten

Life must go on Though good men die.

Anne, eat your breakfast;

Dan, take your medicine.

Square Dancing

In the mid 1970's Alex and I strarted attending square dance classes and then joined a club. We made many friends and loved it so much. We usually danced on Tuesday's and Saturday nights. We always looked forward to those times. I had so much energy then. I would clean the whole house and mow the lawn on Saturdays and still have energy to go dance that evening. I had a square dance dress which stood way out. I wore pantaloons and slips that made the skirt stand out. We had all kinds of parties and I can say without doubt that during those times, Alex was so full of life and so happy. He was always the life of the party. It was a good clean group with no smoking or drinking. We always went with our group to A&W Root Beer after we danced. We once had a Halloween party and we won first place. Alex dressed as a Mexican with a poncho and sombrero and I wore a black wig and lace scarf and a Mexican skirt and blouse.

We went with our group to Logan and stayed overnight to a big square dance convention and also went to Loa Utah to dance. We often went up to SLC to dance with other clubs. We even danced in the 4th of July parade but it was raining really bad. Later our group which was called "The Hoot and Hollers" dwindled down and eventually broke up. We later joined another group called "The Sweetheart Chains." We were really good at doing the square dance.

I am not sure how or why we really stopped but one day we just did. It might have been Alex's knees, I just can't remember but anyhow we just didn't go anymore and I wish we had kept it up.

Memories of Alex: Written Two Years Ago

March 28

Remembering

Today it's getting really close to the 2nd year anniversay of my Alex' death. I am kind of dreading that day. . I have been feeling a little sadder than usual..maybe because I know it's coming and it's still kind of surreal to me.

Everywhere I look, I see his hand in everything around me. The fireplace, the pictures he hung on the wall. His recliner we got him for Christmas. The cat light cover he insisted I have in the bathroom. The dressing table, mirror and chair. In his room, the trinkets, the collectables, the keychains, his piggy banks. I sometimes even imagine I hear his automatic bed moving up and down. Upstairs, more collectables, lighthouses, trucks, cars, doll houses, toys etc; his blueprints in the drawers of plans he had to remodel. In the garage, his tools, paint cans, 8-tracks....the notebooks with his writing.

Outside I see his tractor and can just imagine his riding it along the side of the house. I see his cement mixer, his wheel barrows, his shovels.. I see the sheds he made with his own hands. I see carvings in the cement of the year he put the cement there. The shop where he sat atop and put on the shingles. The empty garden spot which soon will be no more where I would see him stringing lines for the beans to grow on. I would see him hoeing and planting. Getting up when sun came up, his favorite time of day. The picnic table where he used to sit and shuck corn. I can almost smell the chiles he was roasting outside on the grill.

Inside the shop I see his tools, his saws, his routers, his planer, all his woodworking tools. I see his old cars, his motors his hopes and dreams.

Even though these things make me sad, I have very good memories of these things and I will always have these memories and want to keep them with me always. I am glad I can look inside and out and see things that remind me that he did live here and that he left so many things here for us to see and enjoy.

My Grandchildren

My Grandchildren

Note: There are not photos on entry. You can find photos of my grandchildren in my photo albumn with the names of grandchildren listed with their photos.

Felicia Featherstone: Born January 1, 1981

Parents: Richard and Tina Featherstone

Brian Featherstone: Born March 28, 1982

Parents: Richard and Tina Featherstone

J.J. Riehle: Born Nov 19, 1983

Parents: Jay and Monica Riehle

Andrew Riehle: Born Feb 17, 1985

Parents: Jay and Monica Riehle

Peter Riehle: Born May 27, 1988

Parents: Jay and Monica Riehle

Michal Opfar: Born March 31, 1989

Patents; Todd Opfar Tammy Carrillo

Marissa Sosa: Born June 7, 1989

Parents: Martin Sosa and Tina Carrillo

Alex Riehle: Born Dec 26, 1989

Parents: Jay and Monica Riehle

Contessa Carrillo: Born April 6, 1990

Parents: Marty and Cherise Carrillo

Jacob Opfar: Born April 3, 1991

Parents: Todd and Tammy Opfar

Cherokee Carrillo: Born May 21, 1992

Parents: Marty and Cherise Carrillo

Sid Moulton: Born Dec 29, 1993

Parents: Robert and Jennifer Moulton

Dominic Sosa: Born Aug 2, 1994

Parents: Martin Sosa and Tina Carrillo

Chevy Carrillo: Born June 8, 1995

Parents: Marty and Cherise Carrillo

Lacey Riehle; Born July 27, 1995

Parents: Jay and Monica Riehle

Zoe Moulton: Born Sept 25, 1995

Parents: Robert and Jennifer Moulton

Savannah Bennett: Born Jan 29, 2004

Parents: Charlie and Tammy Bennett

MattieJo Carrillo: Born June 9, 2004

Parents: Matthew and Kelly Jo Carrillo

Kinley Marie Carrillo: Born July 1, 2005

Parents: Matthew and Kelly Jo Carrillo

Cash Carrillo: Born May 31, 2006
Parents: Marty and Cherise Carrillo

Jaden Carrillo: Born Feb 14, 2007
Parents: Matt and Kelly Carrillo

Kid and Their Significant Others

My Kid's Significant Others

Tina; Kipp Clark; Kipp is fun to be with. Tina met Kipp online. He was from Orem. they were married in November 1999. He and Tina love to travel. He likes photography, hiking and electronics and star gazing. He works for British Petroleum. He and Tina live in SLC

Monica: John (Jay) Riehle: Monica met Jay through a mutual friend. He was from American Fork. Jay drives a long haul turck. He and Monica were married on April 14, 1983. They have five children. They live in Tremonton Utah. Jay likes his family. He finds it hard to be away from them. But he is a truck driver by profession so he is away a lot. But he always has his cell phone. His favorite hobby is ducth oven cooking.

John: Kathy Jones: John met Kathy through a mutual friend. She was from Payon. They were married on Oct 20, 1995 in the St. George Temple. Kathy is a very special person. She likes to help others. She loves trucks and likes to help others work on them. Her favorite thing to do is go shopping and look at everything. She likes to buy treats for her nieces and nephews. She also like to dress just like John and she buys buy shirts for the both of them for each holidy. We all them the "Twins." Kathy works at Del Taco where she has been employed for over 10 years. John and Kathy live in Orem.

Jennifer: Robert Moulton: Jennifer met Rob at UVSC. They were married on Jan 31, 1989 in Taiwan 1/2 way around the world. Robert if originally from Heber City Utah. He came from a family of 12 children. Robert loves to read, shop and draw cartoons. He is very intelligent. He graduated from the University of Washington magna cum laude. He works at the University of Washington in computers. He is quiet but has a dry sense of humor. Rob and Jennifer live in Seattle.

Marty: Cherise "Cricket" Campbell: Marty met Cherise at work. They were married June 23, 1989. Cherise if from Burley Idaho. Her hobby is crafts. She loves to decorate. She loves her family and is a very good mother. She loves babies and if she's around a baby you better be prepared to let her hold it. Her miracle baby is Cash who is 2 years old. The live in Rigby Idaho.

Tammy: Charlie Bennett: Charlie is from South Dakota however he was living in Wyoming when Tammy met him. She met him online. They were married in July 2003. . Charlie is a hard worker and a perfectionist in his work. He is a good singer and has been in a band. He works hard to be a good step-father for Tammy's two boys. They live in Eagle Mountain.

Matthew: Kelly Jo Grace: Matthew met Kelly through Tammy. They were married June 6, 2003. Kelly loves children and she is a good mom. Kelly works at the DMV in Provo. Kelly is a good singer, and taught herself to play the piano. Her whole family is very musical and often perform at events. They live in Eagle Mountain.

Television Memories

I started a new category of some of my memories of my family and life. It works like this; Whenever a certain memory jumps into my head, I will enter it in this category.

Today I am writing about how our family life was like in the 70's and 80's and how it differs from today.

We had two TV's, one that didn't work and aother one that did work sitting on top of the one that didn't work. We had to use a pair of pliers to turn it on. And sometimes we had to kick it. We had all of 3 or 4 stations to watch. No cable. Each kid had a certain place that they sat to watch TV. When the left the place for even a second, they would worry that some other sibling would take their place so they would say, "My place is saved." Or sometimes they would say, "My safe is placed.

When VCR's finally came out, they cost $1500 so we couldn't afford to buy one. There were only two people I knew who had a VCR. You used to go to the video store and rent the VCR and the videos. The VCR's were really big and bulky. You had to reserve the video in order to really get a decent one and you could only keep one night max. Alex' brother, Nazario got a VCR and it had a problem of over-heating and when it did, the videos would not play. So you would have to blow on the VCR to make it play again.

We didn't know any better, so our life was fun. Kids now-a-days would think this was really weird and not much fun but we had lots of good times with our rented VCR's and our old TV's that we turned on with a pair of pliers.

Stuff from My Good Old Days

Speaking of Buttons....

When my Mom did her mending, she would bring out the button box. While she was mending, I would play with the buttons. I put the pretty colored ones in one pile. I put the average buttons in another pile. And I had a pile for the ugly ones. I pretended they were people. The pretty ones were the popular ones. They would not let the ugly ones play with them. The average ones were usually the grownups. They were usually the larger buttons.

I remember the prettiest of the buttons was a blue button with ruffled edges. I named her Sally Ann. One of the ugly buttons was a grayish-white button that I named Sour Sour. I also played with other inanimate objects. My Dad had an old army flashlight that was khaki in color. I named her Barbara the Flashlight. I spent many hours playing with these objects and making them into families and having them go to school etc. Sour Sour was actually Sally Ann's younger brother. He was kind of like Charlie Brown; always the underdog and Sally Ann was like Lucy; always the one who got all the attention and thought she was better than anyone else.

11:40 AM |

The Milk

When I was growing up, my mother always wanted to buy a house that had a lot of land so we could have a garden and animals. In 1953, we moved to a home in Lakeview that had an acre of land. My mother also wanted a milk cow. She loved milk. So we got Jersey milk cow. My dad had to milk the cow (by hand)morning and night. He would get up before work and milk. Then when the milk was brought in, we had to strain it and the milk from the night before. It often had hairs and dirt in the milk. We poured the milk through the strainer. Then we poured the milk into a large container and put it in the fridge to chill. After it chilled awhile, we took it out and the cream had settled to the top. We skimmed the cream off the top and put it in a bowl. We then poured the milk into 2 quart containers. We could not get all the cream out however, so when drinking the milk we often got lumps of cream which I didn't like and would often gag on. My mother loved the lumps of cream. After the cream dish was full, we would churn butter. We had a churn that you turned the handle around and around until the cream became butter.

We would get about a gallon of milk from each milking. I don't know how we ever drank that much milk. We never got anything to drink at our meals other than milk or water. Because of that, I craved Kool Aid and pop. My mother hated pop and Kool Aid so she didn't understand why we craved it. We only got pop on 4th of July and Kool Aid at my Grandma's house. (Grandma didn't like milk)

Having a milk cow was a pain. It was hard to go on trips because you had to be there for the milking. Also, we had a couple of cows bloat and my mother would take that so hard. One morning I woke to hear my mother sobbing. When I asked her what was wrong she told me the cow bloated and that we were so poor and had spent so much on that cow. We also bred the cows to have calves. One of our cows started to deliver her calf and I was the first to see. I ran to the house to tell my parents. They got angry at me for watching the cow have a calf and told me I could not go up there and watch again. They acted like it was something shameful. So I became afraid of birth and I also thought it was something terrible because it wasn't explained to me.

Mending Day

Mending day was usually on Wednesdays. My mother would put all the clothes that needed mending in a basket. On mending day she would separate the clothes. The ones that needed buttons would be in one pile; the ones that needed stitching would be in another, and the socks would be in yet another. My mother had a large box of misc buttons. She would go through the buttons and find the ones that matched the closest to the ones that needed to be replaced.

The socks were the most interesting of her mending chores. The mending of socks was called 'darnng.' She would get a burned-out light bulb and put the sock over the bulb with hole that needed mending. The bulb was to hold the sock out so she see the hole and have it held in place. She would then get needle and thread and stitch the hole in the sock until the hole was all stitched over. I was always too lazy to do that. When one of our socks got a hole in it, I just threw the socks away and bought new ones. Not my mother. She grew up in the depression and you didn't throw anything away if you could fix it or eat it later. When my mother made a cake she was so frugal about getting every bit of the batter out that there was never any cake batter for us to lick.

Ironing Day

Ironing day was usually on Tuesday. We would take the sprinkled clothes from the plastic wrap and iron them. There was no such thing as permanent press. We had to iron little girl dresses that had lots of ruffles and pleats and was really a chore to iron. We even ironed bras and pillow cases. Everything was always very wrinkled. The starched clothes were especially hard to iron because they scortched really easy; so you had to be really careful.

My grandma used her coal stove to heat the iron. She did not have an electric iron. She would put a heavy metal iron on the stove and let it heat and when it was hot, she would iron her clothes. I really hated ironing day, especially with my two girls and all their dresses. Dryers and permanent press clothes have made a woman's work so much easier.

Back in the 'old days" you had a certain day to do your chores.

Monday: Wash Day

On wash day, you could expect the wash would consume your whole day. My grandma would roll out her wringer washing machine into the kitcen and fill it up using a rubber hose hooked to the sink. She had two other tubs sitting on wooden stools, one filled with 'bueing' as she called it, (blue powder was added to make clothes whiter) and the other with rinse water. She would also fill a large metal container with water and boil the water on her coal stove. Very dirty clothes such as my grandpa's work clothes from the mine would be boiled in that water. She would use a large stick to stir the clothes up. She would then start the washer and add homeade lye soap. She would wash the whites first and then continue to the colors washing each in the same wash water. The washer had a wringer attached and you would wring the clothes through the wringer to get the water out of them. More soap and and water would be added as needed.

My grandma would then prepare the starch. She would fill a large container with water and add powdered starch. The clothes that she starched were mainly dress shirts, skirts and dresses. She would put the clothes in the starch water until they were saturated with the water and starch.

My mother did her wash the same way until in the 1950's we finally got an automatic washer. My mother's first automatic had a suds saver. With the suds saver you could drain the washer out while you clothes spinned and then suck it back up again to do another batch. I myself only used a wringer washer for a short time when I was first married and their was one in the house we rented. I will be adding another entry on how we dried our clothes.

The other part of wash Day was drying the clothes. That could be very pleasant experience or it could be not-so-fun experience, depending on the weather.

We had a clothes line that went from one side of our backyard to the other. You would take the clothes outside in the clothes basket and hang them on the clothes line using wooden pins called clothes pins.

On a pleasant Spring, Fall or Summer day, it was a soothing experience to hang the clothes and watch them flowing in the breeze. I loved being outdoors hanging them. Winter however, was something else. You would run out and hang them as fast as you could, your hands so numb from the cold that you could hardly feel the clothes pins. You would let the clothes hang out there, sometimes as many as 2 or 3 days hoping they would get dry. When you went to retieve the clothes, they would be frozen stiff. Many a time I brought in sheets and other things that were so frozen they could stand on their own. I dried clothes this way until 1967 when I got my first clothes dryer.

After the clothes thawed, you would get pop bottle with a sprinkler on the top and fill it with water and sprinkle the clothes with water. Then you would take the sprinkled clothes and put them in a large plastic bag and let them sit overnight and get moist and ready for ironing day. And that's another day.

There was a time when I got so tired of trying to dry clothes in the cold wet Winter, that Alex strung a clothes line in the basement so I could dry our clothes there. That was much better than going out in the cold.

I do miss seeing the bright white sheets flowing in the breeze and the smell of the clothes that were dried outside. Sometimes, however, they would not smell so good. If someone had a bonfire or something, they would pick up that smell. Sometimes wasps would get in the clothes though and you had to be careful when taking them down. A wasp once got in one of my brother's Levi pant legs and when he put his pants on, he got stung.

More Memories

Old Days Fashion and Customs

In the Winter when I was in school, I had to wear long brown stockings to keep my legs warm. Girls were not allowed to wear pants to school. The long brown stockings had to be held up by a garter belt. The garter belt consisted of two shoulder straps that hooked on your shoulders and went down past your waist. On the ends of the straps were two elastic bands in which two garters on each side were placed. One garter for the front of the stocking and another for the back of the stocking. So four garters in all. I had to pull the socks up really tight and then hook them to the garters or they would wrinkle up. In Spring I got to wear white long stockings. The was exciting to me.

When I got to be a teenager, I got my first pair of nylons. You had to wear a garter belt with those too but the garter belt was more feminine and fit around the waist with the garters connected to it. The nylons had seams in them and you had to be very careful putting them on so the seams would be straight. Older women usually wore rayons. Rayons were thicker and more durable. But they were ugly. I don't know what it is with old ladies who are somewhat oveweight, but they always seemed to sit with their legs slightly open. I remember as a girl one old lady who visited often used to sit on our couch with her legs open and you could see the garters that hooked up her rayon stockings. Their rayons were always wrinkled and they wore old granny-type shoes. Sometimes they wore round elastic garters that only held up their stocking part of the way. Women in the old days seemed to be proud to be old. Anyone over 50 looked like they were closer to 80 and mainly because of the way they dressed and wore their hair.

My Grandma didn't like change and she continued to wear rayons or nylons with a garter belt even after pantyhose came out. My Mother had a hard time finding silk stockings for her and she had to make a garter belt because you could no longer buy them. She didn't like to wear pants either. They were for men. She always wore a full petticoat and a dress with an apron.

My Grandma didn't like clothes dryers or automatic washing machines either. She still hung her clothes up even if she had to string them over chairs and tables in the house. She only liked lye soap and didn't believe that modern day dertergent could get anything clean. I know lye soap was made with pig fat. My Mother used to render the lard from a pig in the oven. It was kind of like pork cracklings. It stunk awful when she was doing it. I really don't know how it is made but I know that after the lard is rendered you grind up with lye to make soap. It cleans really well but it is hard on clothes, It makes them wear out faster.

Memories of Childhood

Written From an Earlier Blog

Early Memories

Last night I was thinking of some of the earliest childhood memories I could think of. All of these memories took place when I was about two when we lived in an apartment in north Orem called Anderson's Basement. We had mirror in the hall. I remember my daddy lifting me up in front of the mirror. It was before church and he told me to look in the mirror and see the pretty little girl. I remember I had a wine-colored velvet jumper on.

Another early memory was some girls around 8 or 9 putting ants down my back so they would sting me. My mother came out took me in the house and I wished she would have told those girls off but she just took me away from them.

I remember also sitting at the kitchen table not wanting to eat my fried egg. My mother made me sit there most of the day but when she finally realized it was futile, she sat the egg on the floor for the cat. When I found out she was giving it to the cat, I got mad and ate it. It was awful. It was hard and cold.

I remember also that my mother had a beautiful rhinestone watch that my dad had got at an auction. It fell in the toilet and got flushed down. I remember my mom being so upset about that.

I must have a pretty good memory because I remember when I went to the toilet in those days, I can still remember calling to my mom to "come wipe my bum." I was toilet trained at age one according to my mother.

I remember being pushed in a wicker baby buggy to church and on the way I remember seeing a dead, yellow cat on the side of the road.

I remember a ceramic squrrel I used to take to church and wrap in a hanky and sing "Rock-a-Bye squirrel on the tree tops."

The people who owned Anderson's Basement had chickens. I tried to catch a rooster and he pecked me. I remember my dad putting iodine on it.

I remember playing with Barbara the Flashlight and with my buttons Sour Sour and Sally Ann.

These are my earlist memories.

Some New Info on Dad's Father's Line

This has not been verified but but may be correct. Barb is the gal who researched this and she lives in Tucson not Las Vegas.

From this it looks like Grandpa Carrillo's parents came from old Mexico. (Zacatecas, Mexico) There is a gal in Las Vegas who has done a lot of research on the Carrillo line. Her great uncle was the brother of Dad's aunt Margarita's husband. Margarita was Grandpa Carrillo's sister and I knew her well. Here is some info that she found:

Dad's grandparents: (Grandpa Carrillo's parents)

Name: Lino Carrillo(Grandpa Carrillo's father)

Sex: M

Birth: SEP 1874 in District Of Jerez, Zacatecas Mexico

Male Christening: 29 SEP 1874 Zacatecas, Mexico

Father: JUAN CARRILLO Family(Grandpa Carrillo's grandpa)

Mother: MARIA JUARES(Grandpa Carrillo's grandma)

Source Information:

Batch No.: Dates: Source Call No.: Type: Printout Call No.: Type:

C607173 1873 - 1875 0439855 Film NONE

Father: Juan Carrillo b: ABT 1849 in Ermita De Guadalupe, Jerez Zacatecas Mexico

Mother: Maria Juarez b: ABT 1852 in District Of Jerez, Zacatecas Mexico

Jose married^1,2 Pilar MADRIL^{1,2(Archuletta) according to Dad's mother. Pilar is Dad's grandma on his Dad's side.}.

Household Members: Name Age (Grandpa Carrillo's Family starting with his dad.

Jose L Carrillo 51 (Dad)

Pilar Carrillo 31 (Mom)

Rafael Carrillo 14 (Grandpa Carrillo)

Salvador Carrillo 9 (Brother)

Margarita Carrillo 10 (Sister)

Amalia Carrillo 7 (Sister)

Acinia Carrillo 4 4/12 (Sister)

Delfinia Carrillo 2 9/12 (Sister)

Surname might be Madrid (according to Provo City Cemetery records for son Rafael Carrillo). According to Pablita Madrid the surnamewas Archuleta. My Cousins state it is Madril.

They had the following children:

+ 2 M i. Jose Rafael CARRILLO was born 30 May 1904 and died 22 Sep 1976.

+ 3 M ii. Salvador CARRILLO was born Circa 1879. (this date has to be wrong as Grandpa Carrillo was the oldest)

+ 4 F iii. Margarita Adelia CARRILLO was born 3 Apr 1908 and died 1 Aug 1998.

5 F iv. Dulcinia CARRILLO^1,2 was born in Colorado.

6 F v. Delfinia CARRILLO^1,2 was born in Colorado.

1920 United States Federal Census

Name: Delfinia Carrillo

Home in 1920: Monero, Rio Arriba, New Mexico

Age: 2 years 9 months

Estimated Birth Year: abt 1917

Birthplace: New Mexico

Relation to Head of House: Daughter

Father's Name: Jose L

Father's Birth Place: New Mexico

Mother's Name: Pilar

Mother's Birth Place: New Mexico

Marital Status: Single

Race: White

Sex: Female

Image: 909

Neighbors:

Household Members: Name Age

Jose L Carrillo 51

Pilar Carrillo 31

Rafael Carrillo 14 (Dad's father)

Salvador Carrillo 9

Margarita Carrillo 10

Amalia Carrillo 7

Acinia Carrillo 4 4/12

Delfinia Carrillo 2 9/12

Source Citation: Year: 1920;Census Place:

Monero, Rio Arriba, New Mexico; Roll:

T625_1078; Page: 9B; Enumeration District: 98;

Image: 909.

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Grandpa Carrillo's Two other sisters:


7 F vi. Lupe CARRILLO^1,2 was born in Colorado.

8 F vii. Amalia CARRILLO^1,2 was born Circa 1913 in Colorado.

Second Generation

Dad's Parents

2. Jose Rafael CARRILLO^1,2 (Jose Lino) was born 30 May 1904 in Pagosa Springs, Archuleta, Colorado, USA. He died 22 Sep 1976 in Provo, Utah, USA and was buried 25 Sep 1976 in Prove City Cemetery.

Jose married^1,2 Pablita MADRID^1,2, daughter of Martin MADRID and Ruben SALAZAR, on Jan 1933 in Lumberton, New Mexico. Pablita was born 7 Jun 1910 in Park View, Rio Arriba, NM, USA. She died 6 Apr 1991 in Provo, UT, USA.

There were some missing so I added them in.

They had the following children:

Jose Lino Carrillo (Uncle Joe) Dec 3, 1933


Pilar Carrillo March 16, 1937

9 F i. Maria Ruben Genoveva CARRILLO^1,2 was born 25 Jul 1935 in Monero, Rio Arriba, New Mexico, USA. She died 1938 in Monero, Rio Arriba, New Mexico, USA.

Ruby Carrillo Sept 11. 1938

Erminia Carrillo July 3, 1940

+ 10 M ii. Alex Elisandro CARRILLO was born 22 Mar 1942 and died 9 Apr 2004.

Lupe Carrillo was born Dec 12, 1943

Rafael Carrillo was born July 24, 1946

Cloroveo Carrillo was born Jan 28, 1948

11 M iii. Nazario A. CARRILLO "Sod"^1,2 was born 15 Nov 1949 in Monero, Rio Arriba, New Mexico, USA. He died 26 May 1996 in Provo, UT, UT, USA.

Burial:

29 MAY 1996

Provo City Cemetery, Provo, Utah, Utah

Nazario died of cancer. He left behind his wife Patsy and 2 children, Callie Rae and Michael Carrillo. He worked at Geneva Steel in Orem, UT.

12 M iv. Marcus CARRILLO^1,2 was born 23 Jun 1953 in Monero, Rio Arriba, New Mexico, USA. He died 3 Mar 1978 in American Fork, UT, USA.

Burised in the Provo City Cemetery, Provo, Utah, Utah.

Marcus died in an accident at work at Lehi Block.

Our First Year

Our Beginnings

Oure Changing Family

Center Photo Taken in 1997














This photo was taken in 1980



This photo was taken in 1969

Fawn and Ken's Obituaries

Thursday, 20 February 2003

Fawn Sanders Johnson

Daily Herald

Fawn Sanders Johnson, 79, died February 19, 2003, in Provo. She was born September 19, 1923, a daughter of Goveita and Christa Brady Sanders in Clear Creek, Utah. She married Kenneth George Johnson November 4, 1942, in the Salt Lake LDS Temple. Fawn loved handiwork, crochetting, quilting, and ceramics. She enjoyed traveling with her husband and family. She was an active member of the LDS Church, serving faithfully in many positions during her life. She was a loving mother and grandmother, always thinking of others, her family was paramount to her. Survivors include her husband of 60 years, Kenneth of American Fork, children, Rita (Alex) Carrillo of Orem, Chris (Elaine) Johnson of Seattle, WA, Robin (Don) Aston of American Fork, and Laura Johnson of Highland, 17 grandchildren, 20 great grandchildren, and 1 great great grandchild, and a sister Beverly Sanders of Pleasant Grove. She was preceded in death by her parents and a brother Duane Sanders. Funeral services will be held Saturday, February 22, 2003, at 12 p.m. in the LDS Chapel located at 673 E. 300 North in American Fork. Friends may call Friday from 6-8 p.m. at the Sundberg-Olpin Mortuary, 495 S. State St. in Orem and also Saturday from 10-11:30 a.m. Interment will be in the Orem City Cemetery. This story appeared in The Daily Herald on page A5.onday, 15 September 2003 Kenneth George Johnson Daily Herald Kenneth George Johnson age 83, passed away at his home in American Fork on September 13, 2003. He was born September 2, 1920 in Mt. Pleasant, Utah, a son of Alfred and Catherine Larsen Johnson. He married Fawn Sanders November 4, 1942 in the Salt Lake City LDS Temple. Kenneth served in the US Army during World War II. He held the position of Assistant Postmaster in Orem for over 32 years before retiring. He loved bowling, camping, traveling and most importantly spending time with his family. He was our rock, our advisor, and our friend. He was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served faithfully as a counselor in the bishopric, Ward Finance Clerk, Home Teacher as well as many other callings. Survivors include his children; Rita (Alex) Carrillo, Orem, Chris (Elaine) Johnson, Seattle, WA, Robin (Don) Aston of American Fork, and Laura (Lanty) Ross, Highland. He is also survived by 17 grandchildren, 21 great-grandchildren and two great-great grandchildren, a brother Ray Johnson and sisters, Bernice Coates, Betty Tuttle, and Alice Johnson. He was preceded in death by parents, his wife, Fawn Sanders Johnson, brothers; Loftin Johnson, Glen Johnson. Funeral services will be held Thursday, September 18, 2003 at 12:00 noon in the American Fork 22nd Ward Chapel, 673 East 300 North in American Fork. Friends may call Wednesday from 6 to 8 p.m. at the Sundberg-Olpin Mortuary, 495 South State Street, Orem, and also one hour prior to the services on Thursday at the ward chapel. Interment will be in the Orem City Cemetery. Military rites will be provided by VFW District #4. This story appeared in The Daily Herald on page D3. Survivors include her husband of 60 years, Kenneth of American Fork, children, Rita (Alex) Carrillo of Orem, Chris (Elaine) Johnson of Seattle, WA, Robin (Don) Aston of American Fork, and Laura Johnson of Highland, 17 grandchildren, 20 great grandchildren, and 1 great great grandchild, and a sister Beverly Sanders of Pleasant Grove. She was preceded in death by her parents and a brother Duane Sanders. Funeral services will be held Saturday, February 22, 2003, at 12 p.m. in the LDS Chapel located at 673 E. 300 North in American Fork. Friends may call Friday from 6-8 p.m. at the Sundberg-Olpin Mortuary, 495 S. State St. in Orem and also Saturday from 10-11:30 a.m. Interment will be in the Orem City Cemetery. This story appeared in The Daily Herald on page A5.

History of Alex (Elisandro) Carrillo

This obitituary was posted in The Daily Herald and following was a brief history written by Rita

Sunday, 11 April 2004

Alex E. Carrillo

Daily Herald

Alex E. Carrillo, 62, of Orem, died suddenly at his home, April 9, 2004, and joined his Heavenly Father and his loving parents. Alex was born March 22, 1942, in Monero, New Mexico, a son of Rafael Carrillo and Pablita Madrid. He moved to Utah in 1955 and graduated from Provo High School and Utah Valley State College. He met his sweetheart, Rita K. Johnson, and they were married on September 12, 1962. The marriage was solemnized November 4, 1964, in the Salt Lake Temple. They made their first home in Vineyard, and then moved to Orem. He was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Alex worked 35 years at Mountain States Steel, retiring in 2001. He was a very hard worker and very good with his hands. He could fix almost anything. He loved gardening, woodworking, and just keeping busy. He loved collecting things and had a whole room decorated with things he had collected over many years. He loved camping and traveling with his family, and just being with his grandchildren. He would give the shirt off his back for any of them. He taught his children the value of hard work. Alex is survived by his sweetheart of 41 years, Rita K. Carrillo; his daughters: Tina (Kipp) Clark, Monica (Jay) Riehle, Jennifer (Robert) Moulton, Tammy (Charlie) Bennett; his sons: John (Kathleen) Carrillo, Marty (Cherise) Carrillo, Matthew (Kelly Jo) Carrillo; his seventeen grandchildren and two great grandchildren. He is also survived by his brothers: Joe, Rafael, Cloroveo, and Bill Carrillo; and his sisters: Pilar Carrillo, Ruby Carrillo, Erminia Lopez, and Lupe Cambray. He was preceded in death by his parents; two brothers, Nazario and Marcus; and his sister, Ruben. Funeral services will be held Thursday, April 15th, at Noon, in the Geneva Heights 6th Ward Chapel, 590 North 900 West, Orem. Friends may call Wednesday, from 6-8 p.m., at the Walker Sanderson Funeral Home, 646 East 800 North, Orem; and, Thursday, at the church, from 10:45-11:45 a.m., prior to the services. Burial will be in the Orem City Cemetery. Those wishing to send condolences may visit: www.walkerfamilymortuaries.com This story appeared in The Daily Herald on page D4.

Alex was born in Monero, New Mexico on March 22, 1942 at home. His real name was Elisandro Criseno Carrillo. His family called him Lisandro. He changed his name to Alex. He was the 6^th child in a family of 12 children. Monero was a small mining town in the mountains. He did not have the luxury of running water or electricity.

He had to help a lot around his home with very little time for play. He had to chop wood and build a fire in the family’s coal stove. He had to help with the chores and with the gardening. So at a very early age he was a very hard worker. He learned of skills working with his hands. He made his own toys from old sardine cans strung together. His first job was making a fire for the Church each Sunday before services. The family was poor like all the other families in Monero, but Alex never knew he was poor. Their home only had two bedrooms for the whole family.

He learned to work on cars and wood at a very early age. His father taught him many skills. He loved horses and before the family got a car, their means of transportation was a horse and buggy or horse and sleigh. He often went horseback riding.

He had always wanted a sled for Christmas but he usually only got an orange and some candy and notepad. One Christmas he was surprised with a sled purchased from a mail order catalog. He loved to ride his sled on the many slopes of Monero where there was no shortage of snow. The first time he left Monero, it was to go into Colorado and harvest potatoes. That was the first time he saw indoor plumbing.

In 1955, the mine dried up and his family moved to Provo where they worked during the harvest. The whole family worked. Then his father found work at a hide company. Alex began school at Dixon Jr. High. They bought their first home there. Alex worked at China City Café in Provo.

He graduated from High School at Provo High. The Spring of 1962, he met Rita K. Johnson. They dated until September 12, 1962 and then they married. They lived in Vineyard Utah where Alex worked on a dairy farm. Their first child was born in 1963. Alex joined the LDS church on November 1963. On November 4, 1964, he and Rita became sealed in the Salt Lake LDS Temple. On December 28, 1964 they had another child, Monica.

The family then moved to Beverly Sub-division in Orem Utah and had 3 more children there: John on August 10, 1967, Jennifer on February 13, 1967 and Marty on August 7, 1970. Alex became employed at Mountain States Steel in Lindon Utah where he worked for 35 years. His position was a welder/fitter and a foreman. His company helped build the Church Conference Center and the Marriott Center. In 1970, they moved to another home in Orem where he had lived to this day. Two more children were born there. Tammy, born October 11, 1972 and Matthew, born August 30, 1980. The home had a acre of land which was heaven to Alex because he loved gardening and building. He was always building something or working on the land and in his shop. He had great cabinetry skills. He believed in hard work and taught each of his children the same. He was always there for his children and his spouse and was most happy when he could do things for his family and others. He loved to travel with his wife, in-laws and children and go camping in the mountains. Despite not having a lot of money, there was always food on the table and time for family vacations. In 1987, he graduated from Utah Valley Community College with an auto body diploma.

In his later years he suffered many minor health problems but nothing stopped him from working the land and building. He was an avid collector and had a complete room filled with novelties and miniature items. Among his collections were all types of telephones, clocks and trains. The family is planning on keeping his collection room intact and calling “Grandpa’s museum.”

Alex had both his knees replaced in February of 2001 and had to have them both replaced again in October 2001 because the joints were defective. His second operation for his knees resulted in complications and he nearly died of an infection and blood clots and a bowel obstruction but he pulled through. He won a settlement because of this and he and Rita were planning to have a good retirement and travel, but that was not to be.

On April 9, 2004, Rita found Alex lying face down on the floor of the bedroom. He was not breathing and was cold. He had been dead an hour or so. The cause of death was determined to be hypertensive cardio-vascular disease. His heart was enlarged and he was never told that and he was never told that he had high blood pressure. Rita believes his death was mostly in part because he suffered from untreated sleep apnea, something the family knew about but could not get Alex to do anything about.

We love you husband, Dad and Grandpa. You will be greatly missed, but your legacy and your teachings, example and love will go on.

He also leaves at this time 21 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren.

Writings of My Feelling after His Death

That Day Two Years Ago, The Day He Left

I wrote this two years after Alex' Death

It's been two years today. Two years since he went away. Good Friday. What was so good about it? He's lying there, I shake him, "wake up" I say. "Quit teasing me. Get up. Look at me." It can't be true, Tell me it isn't so. I talked to him just hours ago. He joked with me. Tomorrow we are going on vacation. Plans have been made, reservations made. I am in shock; it's surreal. I'm numb. I feel guilt. Why didn't I hear or help? It's my fault. Why didn't he get that sleep machine? I should have made him listen. He's only 62; he's too young. My minds says "call 911." "Do CPR" I hear. I try, can't turn his head, he's cold. No pulse. Blood has settled. They come, the paramedics, the police, the men from the mortuary. I hear talking, I hear voices but I can't remember what is said. I hear sobbing. I make phone calls, I sign something; I feel like I am asleep. I need to wake up from my dream. It's just a bad dream; it's not real. I will wake up soon. Someone cries out, "Daddy", I see the man take him out the door. Why is the man taking him out the door? Why is he covered with a blue blanket? People come; they are sad, they tell me they are sorry. I smile but inside I feel like I too am dying, but no, it's just a dream. It will pass. I make plans, I talk to the mortuary guy. I phone keeps ringing; I answer, don't remember who it was or what they say. Things need to get done. So many things need to be done. His grandson's are here to help Grandpa. He has been looking forward to this day so he can't be gone. I look outside, outside by the sheds, the shop, the tractor; the tractor he was working on last night. It's not finished so he can't be gone. I expect to see him there, working out there, working with his plaid shirt, his suspenders, the sandels he always wore with socks. "Mustn't see my ugly feet and toes", he said. I see the truck, the brown truck, his truck. That means he's home, he's here. When the trucks' here, he is here. The bedroom he is remodeling. It's not finished. It's torn up. He can't go because he has to finish it; he has made all the plans to redecorate. The TV room is quiet; Why don't I hear the TV? There is no sound of Bonanza, John Wayne, The Rifelman or Gunsmoke. The sound of silence can be deafining sometimes. I look in the fridge. The leftover pork chops he made for last night's supper are there. He made those just last night so he can't be gone.I see the deck, the deck we planned together. We are going to have lots of parties in the summer on the deck, so he has to be here; he made plans. We made plans. He had so many plans. Just two more years and I will retire, we will travel, be free to go. So I know this isn't true, it's a dream. He has always been there for almost 42 years, things don't change that fast. DO THEY?

Have you ever watched a ship sail off and disappear from the horizon? To you, the ship is gone but to others on the other side, the ship is just arriving. This is death; you watch as your loved one passes from view but that person is not gone, they are arriving at another location. They have only diminished in your view, but they have not changed, only moved beyond view.

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white

sails to the morning breeze and starts

for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength

I stand and watch her until at length

she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky come

to mingle with each other

Then someone at my side says;

"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull

and spar as she was when she left my side

and she is just as able to bear her

load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone

at my side says, "There, she is gone!"

There are other eyes watching her coming,

and other voices ready to take up the glad

shout,

"Here she comes!"

And that is dying.

Henry Van Dyke

Don't tell me to just get it over

Don't tell me it was meant to be

For he was once my lover

And he is gone you see

Don't tell me how to feel

That I need to just forget

This bad dream is just too real

I can't forget just yet

Don't worry that I am not always cheerful

There are days when I am just down

When others see me they are sometimes fearful

That I will never come around

Just let me have my bad days

Let me grieve on my own time

I will deal with things my own way

And again the sun will shine

But just don't tell me how I should act

Or why I feel like I do

I lost something, that's just the fact

Would you want to walk in my shoes?

Your day will surely come too soon

And you need to grieve in your way

And not have others tell you

The way you should behave

So do not worry about me

I like to write my thoughts

Although I will never forget these times

Time will ease the fraught

Don't tell me that you understand
Don't tell me that you know,
Don't tell me that I will survive
Or how I will surely grow.
Don't tell me that this is just a test
That I am truly blessed
That I am chosen for this task
Apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgement
Of the bounds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to suffer
And don't tell me how to cry!
My life is filled with selfishness,
My pain is all I see,
But, I need you now,
I need your love, unconditionally.
Accept me in my ups and downs,
I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry,
And say, "My friend, I care."
"Grief is not a problem to be cured. It is simply a statement that you have loved someone"

"To Where You Are"

Josh Groban Song

Who can say for certain
Maybe you're still here
I feel you all around me
Your memory's so clear

Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak
You're still an inspiration
Can it be (?)
That you are my
Forever love
And you are watching over me from up above

Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile to know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are

Are you gently sleeping
Here inside my dream
And isn't faith believing
All power can't be seen

As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me everyday
'Cause you are my
Forever love
Watching me from up above

And I believe
That angels breathe
And that love will live on and never leave

Fly me up
To where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile
To know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are

I know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are

I

Later Writings

Here are some writing I have made, mostly after the death of Alex.

You get ready for work and life as you know it ends. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends. Life changes in an instant. Even though the person is gone, you still feel the need to tell them what you heard on the news, at work, on TV. How can life change so fast? So permanately? I want to know.

This is such a bizarre, western-culture thing. I've been reading about death, dying and mourning through history and in other cultures and it hasn't always been this way and isn't this way elsewhere in the world.

Everything must be instant. Instant banking, instant solutions to everything that ails us, chicken soup books and six-easy-steps to achieve whatever it is we think we want (are TOLD we want, is closer to the truth). Time is scheduled so tightly, we are all in a mad dash to where - the grave? Reflection, introspection, emotions other than the happy-faced ones, are tut-tutted over and "diagnosed" by an overly-self-helped society that has been largely brain-washed into believing that we can live forever, have it all, and if anything goes wrong along the way we must be to blame. I've seen this happen to sick people as well as the grieving.

We are mortally afraid of our mortality. A society awash in denial, desperately seeking ways to look younger, stay healthier, etc. We reward, with praise, those who are viewed as stoic and positive (I call them the cheerleaders for getting on with it), and harangue those who dare to express sadness or grief and even those who are ill. So those in mourning are a bitter pill - a reminder that death happens and they don't want to face the aftermath never mind accept that it will happen to them.So they react with exasperation and advice ad nauseum even daring to express anger (I am shocked by this) at a grieving widow who isn't "performing' to their standards, isn't making it easier for THEM. Selfishness, as if it is about THEM and what would make THEM comfortable.

As a society we've gone mad on advice-giving and know no bounds when it comes to intruding into the lives of others with our opinions. The rise of the Dr. Phil types and how-to-cure-anything books has generated an atmosphere of "everyone is an expert" on absolutely everything. We push ourselves into other people's lives in a manner that is so insensitive and judgmental as to border on cruelty, with the gall to assume we know one damn thing about what is best for someone else.

As a culture we have lost respect for death and mourning. We are given a year off work if we procreate life but only three days off if our spouse dies. The mourning period is not only not observed but it is actively discouraged. Ritual is sneered at or disregarded. We use euphemisms for death and dead (passed away, lost) because that softens the blow for those who don't want to deal with the terrible reality that we all deal with every day. They don't want us to say "He died" - that is too much reality for them to handle. So our pain, if expressed and seen, must be "cured" instantly - for their sakes.

Death has become a dirty word in this health and youth obsessed culture, and that leaves those mourning death as uncomfortable reminders of how wrong they are and, therefore, fair game to be "guided" onto the path of the herd who are, in fact, blinded but have convinced themselves that they know best and have every right to DEMAND you do it their way. What happened to respect for the dead, compassion for the grieving, the understanding that a period of mourning is not only normal but expected?

No one has the right to demand that you change your process. You are mourning and grieving. Your own timeframe for this is just that - your own. They'll find out, one day, and God preserve them then.

We little knew that morning

that God was going to call your name

In life we loved you dearly

In death we do the same

It broke our hearts to lose you

You did not go alone

For part of us went with you

the day God called you home.

You left us peaceful memories,

your love is still our guide;

And though we cannot see you,

you are always at our side

Our family chain is broken

and nothing seems the same

But as God calls us one by one,

the chain will link again

Mr Death

Mr. Death, why do you visit?

Don’t you have enough in your many legions through time?

Your icy presence is not welcome

Why do you spread your gray cloak of darkness over me?

You don’t need them, I need them more.

Are you jealous of what I had with them?

Once those who I loved were smiling, their eyes glowing

Now their eyes are dark, unseeing

Once their smiles graced me with love

You took their eyes, their smiles, their life

You took the warmness they had and replaced it with the stiffness of a statue

And with it, you took my hope, my dreams, my future

So if you must visit again, Mr. Death, don’t take anyone I love

Just take me.