Saga of the Sanpitch Volume 13, 1981 - Sanpete County

notes, and two chords. There was no keyboard, as we have on accordions today, but he pushed on buttons to
bring out the melodies that he played by ear.
What a memorable afternoon! That group of young people had the honor to be the first to dance in
the Social Hall.
After the sanding and the first dance, thousands of people danced on that floor.
Source: This information was told to me by my brother, Lloyd Winn, who participated in both the sanding of the floor and the dance.
WARM PORCHES
LaJune B. Leishman
640 West 1st Avenue
Richfield, Utah 84701
Non-Professional Division, First Place Poetry
No one is sitting on the porch now. The old man
Is gone. He won't be back. And the people
Living in the house are too busy
For porch-sitting. The motorcycle,
Parked where the chair rocked,
Says that. Often I sat with him —
The old man — sat while sun-baked bricks
Warmed our chilled bones. Mine chilled by a
Blustery spring, his by a more permanent frost.
Sometimes we shared our porch warmth with neighbors
Passing by. "Hope it don't rain. Got all my hay down.
Or children climbing the rails.
"I'm the king of Bunker's Hill,
Come and catch me if you will."
Or the family, gathering to show the old man
His posterity. "Gonna be bigger than your dad."
When he felt like it, the old man
Talked. He talked about his father —
The one who built the porch — how he came from Denmark
With a new faith and a new love. And how,
For his faith, he walked to Manti to build a temple,
And how, for his love, he built the porch.
The motorcycle, parked on the porch now,
Is cold. I shiver when I see it.
Porches, warmed by sun and by love are for people,
Not things.
Source: Written about the porch on an old family home in Sanpete County upon seeing it as it is now and
remembering how it was "then."
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