Born March 9, 1917 Mesquite, Nevada #9 of “The Original 13” Baptized May 3, 1925 Married to Maurine on September 12, 1945

I was born on March 9, 1917, the ninth child of Charles Arthur Hughes and Orilla Luella Leavitt. I was born in a small one-room lumber shack in Mesquite, Clark County, Nevada. It was t typical March day and my grandmother, Carmelia Hughes (the midwife) was trying to bring me into the world when Brother Thomas E Abbott came racing for her to come fast, his wife was in labor. Grandmother said, "I’ll come when I can, but I can’t leave Orilla now." Brother Abbott went home, but came back again, urging grandmother to hurry. I still hadn’t arrived, so back he went but came again just in time to take grandmother to his wife Priscill’sa assistance. She shortly gave birth to a son whom they named Lyman Boyd.

It was December, approximately a week before Christmas, when I was about seven years old, that my folks were building a new home. Dad and Uncle Walt were on the roof shingling. They had a fire on the south side of the house burning trash. I was standing by the fire getting warm and watching the men on the roof, when I got too close to the fire and my homemade flannel underwear caught fire. I started running, but my younger sister Thora ran and caught me, rolled me in the sand and put the fire out. At the same time, Uncle Walt jumped off the house to help me and injured both of his ankles. He was crippled the rest of his life.

My first recollection of school was under a teacher by the name of Miss Wave Cross. We had a big boy who was handicapped in our room. His name was Martin Leavitt and he was the policeman. Whenever any of us talked out or made a disturbance of any kind, Martin would put cayenne pepper on our tongues or hit us on the hands with a yardstick.

I was afraid to be baptized so on the first Sunday in April 1925 I ran away from home and hid. On the first Sunday in May, my uncle, Myron Leavitt, gave me 50 cents if I would be baptized. The money seemed like quite a bit to me and it was too tempting, so I gave in.

Once when I was in about the fifth grade I went home for lunch (bread and molasses) and Dad to ld me to feed the pigs. I grabbed the bucket and dashed to the pig pen long enough that Dad would think I had fed the pigs, long enough to have fed them actually, bit I didn’t. It was the spring of the year when it was nice and warm, just right for the old Charlo swimming hole. I ran as fast as I could to get in as much swimming as I could before the school bell rang. I just had my clothes off, ready to take that first plunge, when I felt a sting across my bare bottom and legs. There was dad on a little old horse named Jim. Of course, I ran putting my clothes on as I went, and I didn’t have to be told where to go. That was the only lickin' my Dad ever gave me that I recall. I knew when he said to do something that was what he meant.

My first "store-bought" clothes (except for overalls) were a pair of knew pants and coat Aunt Lilly lLeavitt bought for Harold. They were too small for him so she gave them to me. I was so proud of the suit and was going to wear it when I was ordained a deacon. Some of the kids made fun of me and called me "old knee pants" so I went home and bawled and wouldn’t go back to church. That was the first and last time I ever wore those clothes.

The men were working on the dam in the Virgin River when I was about fifteen and they hauled brush and rocks with teams and wagons to fill in the dam. This was the first time I had been permitted to take a team by myself to help. I had a load of mescrew brush with the tops upstream and chopped ends downstream. The river was running high when I drove in to cross under the dam. The pressure of the water caught the limbs and tipped us over with me underneath the wheel of the wagon. The only thing that saved me was holding onto the reins with one hand, which turned the horses downstream and I came floating out from under the wagon. Either Ralston or Leonard Reber was the first to get to me. I was so weak and nearly drowned that I couldn’t get myself up over the bank. He helped me up where the pushed water out of my lungs then built a big fire where I could get warm and dry out until time to go home. I had many experiences while working on the dam, some funny and some a worry, but none so near tragic as that one.

During my school years I participated in all activities, but my main interest was sports, especially basketball. I also enjoyed FFA and agriculture.

In my senior year I went to work for Rodney Colton in a service station. I was paid the large sum of ten cents and hour, or thirty dollars a month. While working there I bought my first car, an old Willys-Knight. With the purchase of the car began my "sporting and dating" years. We made many trips to Southern Utah town to attend Saturday night dances in the next few years. We often "camped out" in the fields after the dances. One time we woke up in one of the Santa Clara fields to find all of our clothes missing and a number of Leo Reber’s daughters pelting us with tomatoes. Another time we were hijacking watermelons in the Ivins’ fields. Lyman Abbott was inside the fence handing the melons to me. I handed them to Alva Snow who was putting them in the trunk of the car. All of a sudden Lyman discovered that someone was handing them to him. It was the owner of the melon patch. Lyman yelled to get out of there and we did, fast, until we got "hung-up" by the bumper as we tried to cross the ditch. The owner had to take his pickup and pull us out. He was going to take us to the J.P. but we outran him and went to Washington, where we ate the melons and threw the rinds in the old Cascade swimming pool.

One day I was stopped at the Standard service station in Mesquite, talking to some fellows, when Maurine Abbott came in to see about a living room set she had ordered. It had just arrived by freight at the station. Sylvan Hughes, a cousin, bet me five dollars I didn’t dare ask Maurine for a date, I bet him I did and went over and asked her when I could come over and try the new couch out with her. She told me anytime I wanted, so from then on I left my sporting around and settled down to steady dating.

On October 30, 1942, I entered the Army. I went to Salt Lake City for induction and was assigned to Camp Kohler, Sacramento, California for training. I was there until February 1943, and was then assigned with the 976th Signal Service Co. and was sent to Fort Mead, Maryland. We left New York on April 30 and arrived in Casablanca, Africa on Mother’s Day, May 9, 1943. I spent almost two and a half years in the Mediterranean Theater of War: Africa, Corsica, Sardinia, Sicily, Italy and Southern France. While in the service, I helped Chaplain Timothy Irons to establish services for LDS service men. This was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my service. We left Leghorn, Italy on July 30, 1945, heading for Okinawa. On August 14, 1945, we were waiting out turn to go through the Panama Canal when work came over the loud speaker that we were to take the most direct course to New Port, Virginia, USA. The atomic bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima. Barracks bags, guns, clothes, and every unattached thing started going overboard as G.I.s celebrated. We didn’t go to Virginia, but arrived in New York City on August 19, 1945. I boarded a train and arrived home an August 23rd.

Since I had become engaged while in Africa (by mail) Maurine and I were married on September 12, 1945, in the temple at Manti, Utah by President Allred.

We also have adapted a foster boy, Pat. We took him in February 1966, when he was four. I love my brothers and sisters and appreciate the many blessings I have.