Ralph Johnson -- Our Hired Man

Ralph Johnson, a product of the great depression, was Father Hinckley’s hired hand on the farm. Over the years he became a genuine part of the Hinckley family. To our knowledge he had no other family and few friends. You children and grandchildren who never met Ralph and know little about him, pester your parents and grandparents into giving you each a copy of “Our Hired Man” by Mother Hinckley. When we senior aunts and uncles pass on we hope our memories of Ralph live on, shared and reshared, for generations to come.

JESSIE REMEMBERS: the 100% kindness and respect Ralph had for all of us. She always wonders where he developed such a wonderful quality when he had no parents. She was always amazed at how he remembered everyone’s special days -- birthdays etc. He even remember Mother on Mother’s Day and would always drop by the house to tell Jessie to get dressed up because he was taking her to Leon Floral to pick out some flowers for Mother for that special day. Once they had arrived at the floral store, Ralph always allowed Jessie to have the last say on which flowers to get Mother. Jessie remembers once when she was quite upset with Mother for some reason. Ralph had come to get her for something and had heard the unpleasant exchange between Jessie and Mother. So when Jessie got in the car, Ralph really scolded her for treating Mother so disrespectfully and told her in no uncertain terms that that wasn’t to happen again. Jessie said that Ralph always had a kind of 6th sense about things. Once he took all the children to a movie at the barracks on the Army base. He arranged the children on the bleachers so that the oldest children were on the ends to keep the younger ones safe in the center. At this same event the children were all allowed to buy candy from the candy vendor which they ate during the movie. Of course the candy wrappers ended up on the floor. After the movie Ralph made the children to pick up every candy wrappers. During another movie at the air base, one of the children complained of being tired. He simply told the child to lie down on the bleachers and go to sleep, which the child did. Jessie remembers how handsome Ralph was when he dressed up. Whenever he put on new clothes he seemed to grow in stature and good looks. He seemed to understand the art of picking the right colors and texture in clothing. She does remember that Ralph occassionally disagreed with Dad and would let it be known. Whenever Ralph would find out about one of we children’s accomplishments, he would always make very appropriate complimentary comments. If he knew we were going to give a talk in church, he would always ask about it. He rarely came to church, but if he did, it was because one of we children would be performing and he wanted to support us. Ralph came to our house at least once a week, usually for Sunday dinner and he always came to the back door -- never the front. Ralph was always respectful of our religious beliefs and practices. He was always the first to let new farm workers know that they weren’t to smoke in our home. Jessie finished her comments by saying: I look forward to seeing Ralph again.

LON’S MEMORIES: Christmas/ North Temple: Ralph would arrive from the farm at our house on North Temple early on Christmas morning. While we were impatiently waiting and gulping down some breakfast before Mom and Dad would let us go in the living room where we hoped to see many toys, etc., Ralph would pick a lull in the excitement and anticipation and, with serious face, announce to us kids that he didn’t think Santa had made it this year. This would bring a worried silence. He would continue to say that on the way from the farm to our house he saw a red sleigh all wrecked with toys spread all over—it was a mess! He guessed that Santa had been going too fast for the big curve in the road between our house and the farm and crashed. For the “believers,” this was really bad news. For the “uncertain,” it caused some doubt. And for the “older and wiser,” there were smiles. Finally the door was opened and, from youngest to oldest, we filed in and much to our relief, Santa had at least made it to our house!

On the Farm: When I was quite young and not yet able to drive a tractor, I remember Dad having Ralph drive the tractor to cultivate the sugar beets when they were about 4” high. This was a very exacting and tedious job. The “knives” and “shovels” attached to the cultivator to cut the weeds out were placed so as to be on each side of the row of beets with very little leeway—an inch and a half on either side of the little sugar beets. If the tractor driver let the steering wheel veer right or left more than the one and one-half inches the knives would cut the beets out instead of the weeds. An unskillful driver could cause devastation to the future harvest. So Dad’s giving of this job to Ralph, year after year, caused me to view him with great admiration. He was trusted. He was highly skilled. He never took his eyes off the row of beets and never let loose of the steering wheel. There was no power steering in those days—it took pure muscle to hold the tractor steady. I hoped that I would become as good a tractor driver as Ralph someday.

Cleaning Ditches: We cleaned the weeds out of our ditches by pulling a V-shaped scraper called a “ditcher” attached to the tractor with a chain through our V-shaped ditches. This had to be done a lot during the summer irrigating season. At best it was a rather dangerous operation. Who was called upon to drive the tractor? Ralph! The V-shaped ditches were on a 45° angle. To drive the tractor down into and out of the ditch, the tractor would be on a 45° angle like the ditch. Sitting on a tractor with a high center of gravity, it seemed even steeper than that. It was as apt to tip over as it was to stay upright. It took nerves of steel and much skill to handle the tractor in that situation. From time to time Dad would have to add his weight to keep the tractor from tipping over by standing on the edge of the lower rim of the tire, on the high side of the tractor, while holding on to upper rim with tractor in motion. Ralph probably knew that he was the man most qualified for this job and so did we!

Hunting: As a young boy, I looked forward to being old enough to go deer hunting. Dad didn’t have time nor did he care much for hunting and so it was Ralph who took me hunting for the first time. (Harold was probably there too.) We went up to Chalk Creek on the Utah-Wyoming border on the Hatch Ranch. I don’t remember if we even saw a deer, but it was a great trip for a boy. To be in the wilds with Ralph, the big bonfire, the good food, and the comradery of we fearless hunters was as good as it got. This was yet another example of Mom’s and Dad’s confidence and trust in Ralph—that they would let their little sons go on such an adventure with Ralph—and guns!

JOANN'S MEMORIES: I thought of Ralph like a grandfather. We did not have a close relationship with Grandfather Taysom because he lived so far away and Grandfather Hinckley passed away before I was born. So Ralph in my eyes was the grandfather I didn’t have. Mother had told us often how he had come to be a part of our family, which to me seemed so strange and mystifying. Just what stories or secrets did he have? Never did he respond to any of my questions about his life, but I just felt he was a good and trusted man…a grandfather type!

Ralph was a quiet man, a man of few words, but he was also quietly friendly and interested in each one of us. He quickly became family!

His little home there at the farm was definitely a bachelor haunt. Yearly, mother would persuade him to let us do some deep cleaning, which it would desperately need. She made sure he had fresh curtains and chair pads, etc. One of my favorite memories was of Ralph sitting in his rocking chair near the heater reading a magazine or newspaper and smoking. Upon seeing us children, he would quickly jump up and hide his cigarette. He never wanted us to see him smoking. At family gatherings, he would have to sometimes slip away from the group and light up.

He would give us small gifts for our birthdays or when we were ill. I still have a ceramic figurine (cracked and not very pretty now) that he gave to me for one of my birthdays. He was invited to every family special occasion, as well as every Sunday dinner. We children would argue as to who could sit by Ralph. He went on many of our family campouts and would always assist the little ones around the camp or when hiking. At the farm, when we were working in the fields, who would come to our rescue, but Ralph….either helping us in the rolling of bales of hay, or pulling those huge red roots from the sugar beets from the opposite end of our row. When I was a teenager, he took interest in who I was dating. A particular young man would take me to the farm to ride horses or to give me driving lessons. Ralph was always quick to make sure he checked on us and that all was well. I know he got to quite like this particular young man.

I thought he was quite ruggedly handsome and when he dressed up in his suit, he was movie star material.

HAROLD'S MEMORIES: We all grew up with Ralph being essentially a part of our family. He fit in so naturally, that it seemeed awkward to
me when he wasn’t included in family outings, dinners, Holidays, etc. He taught me much about the grind and labor associated with farm life. Even I was was pretty young, I didn’ escape his cussing when I’d made a dumb mistake, or mess something up that had to be redone. I actually got used to his cussing, but determined at an early age never to follow in that language pattern.

I will always remember how Ralph was the designated gunman when an animal had to be destroyed, because Father Hinckley and Rulon just really didn’t have the stomach for such activity. The farmhouse where he lived was even a scary place for the guys--but he did keep it nice and warm during the Winter and it was always a welcome haven during the bitter winter months.

Christmas’ with Ralph were always a lot of fun, even though most of the time we know what we were going to get from him each year. I wonder to this day where he ordered the annual lot of “mukluks”. I never recalled seeing them in the store, but somehow he got a hold of them, and each year he seemed genuinely delighted as we all showed off our new mukluks. I was always impressed with they way he treated Mother and you sisters. He was always a total gentleman and had wonderful manners, inspite of his mysterious background. Someone taught him how to be respectful, polite and kind, and he never lost that.

Perhaps my last memory has to do with his old 1949 Studebaker Champion--the car he was so proud of. Somehow I kind of ended up with the car, and of course I was thrilled to have wheels, any wheels in that day was wonderful. Many of you remember, it was not long after he passed away, I drove the car over to the Ward on 9th Avenue and parked it on that slopping parking lot, and about half way through our meeting that day a fire started in the parking lot because of a leaking gas tank (not mine), and it burned about 5 cars, including my nice newly washed Studebaker Champion. Burned it essentially to the ground, tires, engine, entire interior, everything--gone! Since I had no money to buy another car, it became my entire summer project to rebuild the car. I became very familiar with every junkyard in town while scrounging used parts to rebuild my car. Using Leonard Johnsons garage, and huge amounts of elbow grease, and endless hours of learning literally everything about rebuilding cars--the prized Champion was road ready about 3 weeks before I went into the mission field. The first ticket I ever got was driving the Champion at night without tail lights. Somehow I’d messed up some of the electrical wiring and I’m nopt sure I ever got it fixed before I left for my mission. Somehow while away the wonderful Champion disappeared. Even in Ralphs absence I continued to learn many lessons, regarding auto care and maintainence, thanks to the Champion (the car and the Man).

JEAN'S MEMORIES: My memories of Ralph are probably pretty similar to those of the rest of the family. Whenever I think of Ralph it brings me warm, fuzzy good feelings. How we loved to see Ralph working his way toward us from the opposite end of the field of sugar beets pulling weeds as he came closer to us. It felt he’d come to rescue us from some painful awful experience. I loved having Ralph there to celebrate with us every Christmas morning. I always felt that whatever gift he gave me was extra special because it came from him. It didn’t seem like Sunday dinner was complete if Ralph wasn’t sitting at the table with us. If it hadn’t been for Ralph on our camping trips, who would have had the fire burning warm and bright for us as we arose from our sleeping bags in the mountains with that cold crisp air greeting us. It just wouldn’t have been the same without him. Ralph’s old car with the rumble seat in it was truly a classic. I remember Ralph as a hard working and loyal worker - Dad’s right-hand man who never complained. Ralph and Mom seemed to have a very close special friendship. Ralph was blessed with many wonderful qualities among which were his ways of being kind, thoughtful, helpful, selfless, loyal and grateful. He was a wonderful man and was very much a big part of our family.

SUSAN'S MEMORIES: My memories of Ralph are a little sketchy. I can’t recall my first memories of Ralph. He just always seemed to be there as an essential part of the’ fabric of my life’. He was simply a member of the family. All our plans seemed to include him. I never wondered why he didn’t have a family of his own, because to me we were his family. It was a genuine ‘revelation’ to me, when I heard Ralph’s life story as written by Mother, to discover that his life was indeed separate from ours. I had never thought about it. He had come from the Dakotas? He had ridden the rails? He hadn’t always worked on the farm with Dad? This was all new to me. But it didn’t seem to matter, I still considered him part of us.

I remember bits and pieces of my relationship with him. I remember him coming to our North Temple home in his Studabaker and with Mom’s permission put Louise and I in the back and took us somewhere. Being the homebody that I am, this was a little unnerving to me, as much as I loved him. I remember that his car was always a big mess -- totally loaded down with what seemed like garbage. But this didn’t seem to be any different from his house on the farm. It too always seemed a bit of a mess, if not downright dirty. As much as I loved Ralph I will admit that I never liked having to go out to the farm to clean Ralph’s house. It took us most of the day. His bedroom was always off limits, thus becoming more intriguing and inviting. I always felt guilty when I’d find the door open and take the opportunity to stand just outside the door but lean way over to take a quick peek. There didn’t seem to be any great mystery to the room; just more stuff, more dirt, and more dust. I was glad we weren’t allowed to clean that room.

I remember his big wood or coal burning stove sitting right in the center of his kitchen. He had his very own chair right by it. I always liked to sit in that chair, next to the stove, and flip through some of the magazines he had lying there.

I remember that he most always came for Sunday dinner. When Mom was about ready to serve, she would have one of us call ‘out to the farm’ and inform Ralph it was time for dinner and he could come now. I was always afraid of the phone for some reason, and as much as I loved Ralph, I didn’t like it when it was my turn to call him.

I especially remember having him come for Christmases. One of my favorite gifts from Ralph was a princess doll which I still have. I remember giving him some cardboard boxes which I had decorated with butcher paper covered with my pathetic attempts at ‘artwork’. I thought he might use them to organize and store some of his ‘stuff’ at home, but he just carried those boxes, empty, around in his car for -- I don’t know how long.

I remember one time when he came to church with us. I think Mom said he wasn’t too excited about it, but I know I was really excited. I thought he’d quit smoking and come with us all the time. It wasn’t to be.

Mother tells me that he was very protective of me. Once on a camp, where we had pitched our tent next to a full and briskly flowing creek, Mother had tethered me to a rope hooked to a tree to keep me from falling into the water. I was very little and Mother thought this would keep me safe. But when Ralph saw it, he was incensed that a mother would do that to a child. He promptly ‘freed’ me and instructed Mother never to do that again.

Ralph was full of stories, but I was too young to understand them. I vaguely remember on a camp once, being intrigued when he warned us to beware of the ‘side-hill gouger’ -- some kind of creature that walked around and around the mountain top with one leg shorter than the other to accommodate the incline of the mountain so he could stand upright and not have to limp. I believed him.

I remember his passing. I thought Dad had taken him to the hospital to get better. He didn’t get better. I was devastated. He had been so much a part of our life, and the hole he left just seemed too big. Even today, there is that hole . It just hasn’t gone away.

LOUISE'S MEMORIES: Beyond mother’s write up of his story, my memories of Ralph are limited and a bit fuzzy. I DO remember the smell of tobacco whenever I was around him, but never saw him smoke. I remember being in Ralph’s home on the farm, not the chicken coop one, but the home that’s still there–or is it? It was dirty and I think we were there to clean it. I remember his work hat, and it seems to me his hat and clothes were often all the same color....khaki tan maybe. I THINK my first memory of Ralph was eating watermelon in the front yard on North Temple where mom, dad and all of us, fed and celebrated with the Navajo workers at the end of the harvest season. I remember Ralph at just a few family functions. I remember him coming to our home on 12th avenue for Sunday dinner...did he wait out front in his car to be invited in when dinner was ready. I believe it was our first Christmas on the Avenues that Ralph gave me “FiFi,” a beautiful blue, stuffed toy poodle, with a rhinestone encrusted, pink collar and leash. How I loved my FiFi! I remember Ralph being in our home during his last days, and felt the deep love and concern mother and father had for him. I remember his funeral, and that someone read mom’s “Our Hired Man”. Perhaps my most cherished memory of Ralph was long after his death, (when all of us had families of our own) being with mom, dad, siblings and spouses the day Ralph’s temple work was done in the Salt Lake Temple. I believe Ralph knew that he was loved and played an important role in our lives.

KAYS MEMORIES: I was only 3 years old when we moved to the Avenues. I remember being with Ralph (years later) in the car going to the doctor; it was a sad, sober thing. I have no other memories except of his dying. Ralph became dear to me because of all the stories I’ve heard of him.