My husband is an orphan. Sad day for the entire family when the Grand Patriarch of the family graduated from life to paradise.
We miss him, but we are grateful we know that we will see him again.
We know he is reunited with his sweetheart and they will never again be parted. Still, it is hard.
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| Funeral Program |
Unless you met him, you would have no idea how significant his earthly life was so I'm posting the Life Sketch that will be given by my husband and his sister.
I wasn't the one that was supposed to write it. We were going to use his personal history, but when I read it over, it just didn't cover enough. I tried to capture the essence of his heart - how good, kind, and noble in so many ways. I admit that I failed to condense a life that spanned 96 years into five minutes. I barely managed to hold it to 20 minutes and there was so much more that could have been written! Perhaps that is simply an occupational hazard. As an author, I feel it takes 300+ pages to truly cover a tale (especially 96 years worth). If you read this, you may get a glimpse of the man, but mere words will never do him justice. This small offering merely skimmed the cream off the top.
If you would prefer to watch the video biography that will play at his viewing and funeral go here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m66PFAzfclE&context=C3d47eb5ADOEgsToPDskKKtf7f0BYqtWNSW20ubaZ0
Life Sketch: Norman Blackburn Erickson
We are here to celebrate the life of an honorable son of God, Norman Blackburn Erickson.
To understand his life-span think about this, in 1915, Woodrow Wilson was President, World War 1 was still going on, the Model T and silent movies were the rage, gas was 25 cents a gallon and stamps 2 cents each.
Here in Archer, on Dec 15, 1915, dad was born at home ten minutes to 4a.m., a Wednesday. In the 1970’s dad recorded this fact followed by, “I’ve had a hard time to catch up on sleep ever since.”
Dad was the sixth of eleven children born to Herman and Gladys and the sixth boy. His father had to get permission from the King of Sweden to leave the country and spoke little English, but his testimony was strong enough to propel him to America. His example of service and work was planted in the minds and hearts of his children.
When dad was two years old, the family moved from the old homestead into the house across the street we all know as Olive’s place. Dad wrote in his history, “When three years old, I remember sitting on my dad’s knee and getting a penny every time I sang, ‘Dip the Oars’. I didn’t get many pennies because I didn’t sing much.” In the future, that would change.
The barn was built in 1913 and Swedish in style. The house was small, so when the boys were old enough, they would stay out in the barn. With five brothers ahead of him, he had plenty of opportunity to pick up on the finer points of being a boy. In the summer, they would sleep about anywhere. Dad recalled his mother saying, “If I could find your beds, I’d change the sheets!” In the winter, the boys would even sleep in the manure spreader because it had enough room for two and, thankfully, it was dry.
Life on a farm is a four letter word - WORK. One of his first chores was to feed the calves. At the ripe age of six, he graduated to milking the cows. By the time he was eight or nine, he went to live in the barn with his brothers and in addition to regular chores, during harvest, they’d pack water to the grain-threshing crew.
They played hard and had to use their imaginations. He’d cut out pictures of horses when too young to work out in the barn with the rest of his brothers, using extra paper on the sides to make them stand up straight. He cut out cars as well and learned the names of every car that existed in the day and age. This later helped him when he grew up and sold insurance.
One of their favorite things to do was play “train”. They’d put one knee on a chair, use the opposite foot to push forward, and while holding onto the chair, scoot around the house. They had no carpet and they played so hard they not only wore the chair legs down to the 1st rung, but the floor as well – a fact that Aunt Geraldine demonstrated one day when she came to visit and her foot went through the floor up to her knee. He and his siblings made bows and arrows, played with frog bones from horse’s legs, and built barns, roads and corrals out of twigs on the top of ditch banks.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ was the core of his life. When dad was 8, he was baptized in a canal by his cousin Orrin. Afterward, dad stayed and played in the water while his brother Henry, who came to witness the baptism, watched over him. Ten years later, dad would baptize his sister Phyllis in a canal.
Dad honored his priesthood. He recorded the following about gathering Fast Offerings
“The year of the South Fork flood, in the spring of 1927, I became a Deacon. I remember seeing campfires on the Menan Buttes because the people in that area had to head for higher ground. Gathering fast offerings was more time consuming than now. There were cars, but not for gathering fast offerings. I rode a horse bareback, to 10 or 12 homes and it took half a day to make the visits. No receipts, you’d just put the money in your pockets and remember who gave what. A quarter would be about the largest amount received. Routes would be, Grovers, Suttons, Wilcox, Weekes, Cheney’s, Burns, and Briggs. The big job was getting back up on the horse. If you had a saddle, good, but most of the time you didn’t so you’d climb on a fence, a ditch bank or stump, or, if your horse was eating grass, you’d throw one leg over his neck and he’d raise his head and you’d slide back and be off again.”
When asked how he stayed out of trouble during his teenage years, his reply was simple, “I was too dad-gummed busy.” It wasn't just the farm chores. Even before his mission, dad held many positions in the church, serving in leadership capacities in the Priesthood quorums such as second counselor in the Deacon’s Quorum, Pres. of Teacher’s Quorum, served in the Priests Quorum, and became the librarian in the Sunday School.
Farm wagons in that era weighed about a ton. One of Dad’s older brothers fell under the wheel of one and complained that it really hurt when it rolled over him. Another brother didn't believe him – so he laid down on the ground and let it roll over him. The decision was unanimous - it hurt.
Another time one of the brothers got his finger cut by the milk separator (machine that separated milk from cream) and then another brother, emphatically stating that the machine couldn't do such a thing, repeated the action with the same result. The icing on the cake, though, was when their father came out and didn't believe them and so, it was proven for the third time (and it was unanimous) – the machine
was capable of cutting them and it hurt.
Dad received his patriarchal blessing in 1936 and wrote, “Every Latter-Day Saint ought to have a blessing as it is a guide to eternal life and a safeguard from evil if one will but live for it faithfully. I can testify to the truthfulness of Patriarchal Blessings through seeing my own coming true in faith-promoting ways.”
His deep-seated faith was stretched when he accepted a call to serve as a missionary in the Western States mission from 1936-1938.
In his personal history, dad recorded, “I can’t forget how bashful I used to be. If there was ever a curse that is bad it is that of bashfulness. The way I used to crawl under the table or when company came still haunts me. After 2 years on a mission, I felt a little more confident, but the first month or two were terrible.”
The day he left for his mission, he did chores, which included putting milk cans in the back of the wagon and taking them to the Cheese Factory. On the way, the milk tipped out and he had to gather the 10-gallon cans of which most were still full, deliver them, get home, clean up, and catch the Lorenzo train that was headed for Salt Lake. After being in the mission home in Denver, at a run, Dad boarded the train headed for Albuquerque, NM. He handed out 30 Books of Mormon and then he started tracting.
Dad recorded the following, “We hitchhiked more than took the train. People were more willing to pick up one man and give him a ride. We just couldn't get a ride when we were together.” This common circumstance led to something uncommon, inexplicable, and faith promoting.
Dad caught a ride with a guy in an attempt to get from Casper, Wyoming to Riverton for a district meeting (this would be 117 walking miles on current roads). When they were about half way there, the driver said, “This is where I turn off.” It was already dark and dad knew there was no way he was going to make it to Riverton that night, so he went a short distance from the road and went to sleep under a sagebrush using his briefcase as a pillow. When he woke up he was astonished to find himself feeling fresh as a daisy and walking up to the building in Riverton where the meeting was to be held, not knowing how he got there and unable to explain it. He never told them what happened because he felt they’d never believe it.
While on his mission, he went to the dedication of the Winter Quarters monument on September 20, 1936. Church members and members of others faiths gathered to participate. The First Presidency: Heber J. Grant; J. Reuben Clark; and David O. McKay, along with several other General Authorities, were present. President Grant said "there are times and places in the life of every individual, every people, and every nation when great spiritual heights are reached, when courage becomes a living thing . . . when faith in God stands as the granite mountain wall, firm and immovable. . . Winter Quarters was such a time and place for the Mormon people." Dad met President Grant, carrying the memory of the man and his words with him.
In June of 1938, His parents received the kind of letter every parent would cherish from a member in North Platte, Nebraska, it reads:
“
Dear Mr &Mrs Erickson,
Thank you for having sent your son in the mission field. He was a very fine missionary who found favor among all of us. He was a great influence for good. He won’t be forgotten very quickly with the smile on his lips and the twinkle in his eyes.
He was an idol among the youngsters because of gymnastics, fun, and attention. Lots of youngsters would keep watch at Plumbs waiting for him to come out. They enjoyed everything he’d do for them from standing on his head to just talking. They will not forget him and he is a Mormon missionary to them. In meetings he often directed his talk to the youngsters; made them feel very important and glad they hadn’t stayed home.
He won admiration among the grownups because of his desires, clean living, industry, and ability to teach the Gospel. He was at his best and a very fine specimen of manhood representing the church. Surely his influence is felt more than we’ll even know.
It may have been a sacrifice for you to have sent him, but if you could understand how he and his fellow missionaries helped our branch – created more interest among the members, organized a genealogy society, broke down contentions, he made us desirous of doing much better – then your gain was much greater than your loss. You must be very fine people to have so fine a son. His mission was a splendid one and his honor among the people is great.
He was righteous before God, an honor to you, a fine citizen. What more could you ask? Sincerely, Mr &Mrs Estel C Lile.
One of the first things he did when he returned home from his mission was to head out to the fence by the barn and whistle for his favorite horse, Sky. Some people didn't think Sky would remember him. However, when Sky heard the whistle, he was in the middle of a 3-horse team and bolted, forcing the other horses and the driver to come with him to meet dad.
After his mission, he also graduated from High School and Seminary. His mission had helped him to shed some of his bashfulness and it helped him to get a lead in an operetta. He loved music and was involved with choirs, glee clubs, and a male quartet. In the fall of 1939 at Ricks College, he studied singing, drama, tumbling, and agriculture.
During this time he records that he was given many church callings. Five of them he was given right after his mission:
1) Sunday School teacher
2) Supervisor of Teacher’s Quorum
3) Supervisor of the M Men
4) President of Junior class of Genealogists
5) Stake Missionary
Added to these were
6) Chorister in Sunday School
7) Dance Director
8) Choir member
9) Chorister in MIA
10) Ward teacher
11) Coach
If you counted eleven, you’re right. It was whittled down to nine by the time he was courting Bessie.
In his history, he humbly records that, “It seems I made a serious mistake in letting my positions in the ward interfere with my education so I let some classes go so I could keep my positions in the ward - without realizing someone else could do them as well and possibly better.” Dad juggled these nine callings for years until one day someone called him at work and asked him to serve in yet another position and, for the first time in his life, refused a call – he had enough, thank-you.
In 1939, he was sitting in one of the choir seats when Bessie Small, from Bangor, Maine entered the chapel. The spirit told him, “Norman, that’s your wife.” He elbowed the man next to him and said, “That’s my wife.” The man next to him was skeptical to say the least. Later, when asked if he ever doubted the vastly popular Bessie would be his, he firmly shook his head. After all, the spirit had witnessed to him she would.
With a big smile, he often told family, “I watched her date everyone in the valley. I figured it was better she got it out of her system before we were married.”
They were sealed for time and eternity on the 11 March 1941.
Eventually, they gained four sons and two daughters, all of whom were raised in the basement house they’d built in the early 1940’s. The top floor wasn't added until 1976. Their children were raised with faith and all served honorable missions. They had three missionaries out at the same time.
Sacrifice was a way of life. They sold cows off to help pay for those missions. In dad’s words, “What would we do without cows?”
Dad knew how to work hard. First and foremost, he was a farmer at heart and loved the land. However, to supplement that income so he could support their growing family, he often had more jobs.
He recorded, “I helped organize and make Farm Bureau a reality in Madison County, sold insurance, and handled claims from 1947-48. He worked at INEL 1956-60 and then for 20 years he enjoyed associating with everyone he worked with at Ricks College. He started with maintenance then was asked to work Security because he was so good with the students; his relationship with them continued as he moved to Custodial.
All of his jobs were in addition to the farm where he spent time teaching their children work ethic, civic responsibility, and leading by example.
Dad had a sense of humor. One of his favorite things to do (on occasion) was scare the daylights out of his coworkers on the custodial crew at Ricks. One time, a fellow custodian, who knew how much dad liked to scare them, nervously called into each room, “Norman, are you there?” Listening to this, a plan formed in his mind and he waited for just the right moment. After several doors, the coworker figured dad wasn't in the building. He reached in to turn on the lights and dad grabbed his hand. You can imagine his reaction.
Dad knew how to serve and administered many kindnesses to others over his lifetime. One night, a dance was being held at the college and he noticed a young woman sitting off to the side and seeing the longing in her countenance, he gallantly offered to dance with her. Embarrassed, she told him, “I can’t dance!” He insisted. Then she showed him that she had no kneecap and repeated that she couldn't. He pulled her up and patiently taught her that she could – and did! She was thrilled!
When dad and mom retired from Ricks College in 1981, they were called to serve a mission to Johannesburg, South Africa. While they were gone, there was a fire and the house they had struggled to build, had severe damage. At the time, it didn't seem like it, but the fire was a blessing and when the folks returned home it was to a beautiful house that was completely finished.
Shortly after they returned from Africa, they were called to serve in the Idaho Falls Temple. For 20 years they would get up at 2 a.m. every Thursday to prepare to serve in the Lord’s house and they absolutely loved it.
Dad farmed into his early 90’s and remained part of the decision-making process til the day he graduated from this life. Family was always welcome to stay at the house. The feeling in the house was like that in the temple. They opened their doors, their cupboards and their hearts.
He was not a proud man, but he took pride in family. He understood that family is eternal. He came from a family of 11 children, had 6 of his own, is the grandfather of 31, and the great grandfather of 67 with more on the way.
It must be said, that of all dad accomplished over his 96 year span, nothing gave him more pleasure than what is written on the back of the program: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.”
