First Signs of the Felt Work Ethic
Story Author: Paul Felt Jr.
I have had some trouble getting my mind around a single memory from my life up to 12 years. So many memories flood in, each of which leaves wonderful feelings, that I have had to exercise some discipline to identify one of real importance to me. For example, I remember the long drive from Utah to Canada and returning to BYU when Dad was working on his post-graduate degrees. I remember the visits with Aunt Edith and Uncle Don in Montana on some of these trips. At times I remember something rather significant to me which, when I think of it, brings a flood of secure loving emotions to the surface.
In order to keep peace amongst the warring tribes in the GMC Suburban bus, Mom and Dad would distract us with a variety of games or sing songs. Sometimes, I guess, there was request time. My favorite was to hear Dad sing “Joseph Smith’s First Prayer.” Whenever we sing that song in Church now, I still recall sitting in the car and hearing Dad sing. Those were wonderful secure times.
When we were living in Canada I remember springtime and John going outside with a coat on because it was getting so warm. It was ZERO F! But, for John from 40 degrees below Zero, the temperature was warm!. I used to envy John because he didn’t feel the cold like I did.
When we were living in Cedar City, before Ron was born, the family was living in an old rambling two-story home. John and I shared a bedroom upstairs which was not heated. We would lay in bed with our arms wrapped around one another, tickling each other’s back for two reasons: We love a tickle (thanks to Grandma Harris who started the whole thing) and we needed to get warm.
However, the memory which has had the most impact during the pre-twelve year period was likewise in Cedar City. John and I had heard that we could get free passes to the movies by distributing the monthly calendar of movies for the movie theater (there were only one movie house and one drive-in in Cedar City then). The cost to go to the movies was only 15 cents but still too expensive on our family’s budget.
John and I showed up on Saturday to help along with a pile of other kids. We were taken by car to our assigned section and shown how we were supposed to place the leaflets in the post box of each house. After some weeks had passed John and I, together with the children of the theater owner, were the only ones left distributing the bills–we were assigned one half of the town and his children the other. It seems the Felt boys were the only ones they could rely upon to actually place the calendars in the post boxes. The other boys were dumping the leaflets. I can remember feeling rather proud to be given this responsibility and a free pass to all and any movie we wished to see.