Olivia

This is quickly becoming a series of stories about driving.  I guess because we grew up a half hour from anywhere there was a lot of driving to be done.

I need to give you some background information.  First, you have got to understand about my dad.  He is big and intimidating.  Growing up my friends and cousins were mostly scared of him.  Marianne and I were sort of scared of him too when we were little.

Then along came Olivia.

If she has ever been afraid of anyone I don't know when it was.  She started calling my dad "Big Guy."  He didn't like the name.  He told her to stop.  (That's the best way to get Olivia to continue doing something.)  She didn't stop.  Pretty soon we all called him Big Guy.  Our friends started calling him Big Guy.  (Few people stand a chance in the face of Olivia.)

Another thing you should know, this was past Sorrelly's time.  Olivia drove Brown Brown.  It was a huuuuuge brown car that made Sorrelly look like an economy car.  Think UPS truck, except bigger.

Finally, Olivia.  And Enoch.  It wasn't always sunshine and roses.  Once when Olivia was beating on Enoch, my dad cautioned that she had better be careful, someday Enoch would be bigger.  Olivia said, "He'll never be meaner."

And what could my dad say to that?  It was true.

Here's a story Olivia wrote:

When I was a junior in high school, I was seminary organist and I felt a moral and righteous responsibility to be on time for seminary so I could play the opening hymn.  The only trouble was Enoch.  Enoch, who has never hurried in his life and who enjoyed lingering over breakfast in his congenial, laid-back way.

On March 19, 1993, I met my breaking point.  I was ready to go on time and Enoch made no effort at hurrying.  I made my bed, looked in the mirror, and did other little unnecessary things to pass the time patiently.  Finally, as I wrote in my journal, "I went downstairs and told Enoch's full mouth that I was leaving him.  I have an obligation to be on time...but Enoch will neither realize nor respect this."  I felt it was up to me to get Enoch to realize and respect my important obligation.  The way to do that was to make good on my threat.  Daddy told me not to leave Enoch.  I felt Enoch would learn very little from the experience if I didn't follow through with what I said I would do.  I did what I had to do:  I left him.

I didn't bother scraping ice off the back window; I just got in Brown Brown and drove away.  At the end of the lane I did pause to see if Enoch might be running after me.  I saw nothing and kept going.  A little after Marti's, somebody honked at me.  Then, at Lorenzo's house, our family's Cadillac came tearing up the road, passed me and just like in the cop shows, turned sharply in front of me to cut me off.  I've wondered how bad things could have become if I were a less skilled driver and had run into the car Daddy was driving.  Fortunately, my quick reflexes brought me to a stop quickly.  My quick mind told me not to get out of the car, but just roll down the window--it was safer from inside.  Daddy told me to turn around and go home.

Olivia's big punishment was that she had to stay in her room all day and write a paper about obedience.  Tabor and Ammon pushed snacks under the door for her and I don't think she suffered too much.

My mom's favorite part of the story is that when my dad went speeding away to chase Olivia down, he left Enoch behind too.

Since I was at college, my mom related the story to me on the phone.  I was shocked.  I still can't imagine how terrified I would have been if my dad was chasing me down in a car.  But I am no Olivia.

Olivia's every bit as headstrong now as she ever was, it's just directed in very positive ways.  She's a terrific woman (though still probably meaner than Enoch).

Here is Olivia with her two oldest children.  She took them to General Conference in Salt Lake City last weekend.  I love these people! And good Edgar too who stayed home with the little ones.