How did your father spend his time supporting his family?

When my parents were first married they moved to Susanville, California to work in the lumber mills. It was depression time and jobs were hard to find. Dad worked for 50 cents an hour. Later they moved back to Utah and bought 1/2 of Great Grandpa Porter’s farm. Uncle Earl Porter bought the other half. After Uncle Earl died Dad bought his half and farmed till his health failed when he was about 35 years old. He then became the manager of the Western Creamery in Monroe, Utah and later a state dairy inspector.

A short bio by Russell adds this info: “Eyvonne Porter Black was born in Monroe, Utah on April 16, 1932. Her parents, Var Niels Porter and Forrest Nielson were residing in Susanville, California but had arrived home to Monroe for the blessed event. Eyvonne was their first child.

After the birth, the Porters returned to Susanville where Eyvonne’s father was employed in the Lumber industry. They continued to reside in Susanville until Eyvonne was in the fourth or fifth grade of school then they returned to Utah. Her folks sold aluminum cookware for awhile and in that job they lived in Salt Lake City and Vernal. But they were not to be content until they returned to the farm in Sevier County, Utah. They returned home to Central, a small farming community located midway between Richfield and Monroe. Her father obtained employment with the Pet Milk company creamery in Monroe and bought the family farm from his father so the family settled into the rural farm life.”

Eyvonne’s mother, Forrest adds: “We spent the early part of the depression years in Susanville, California where Var was employed in the Lumber Mills. He was making 37 1/2¢ an hour and we were very lucky to have a job. Later we went into the selling business [selling Everware pots and pans] and moved to Salt Lake City. We worked there for about a year and then we were transferred out to the Uintah Basin. I never saw so much snow in my life as we had that year. Trenches were shoveled under the clothes lines so we could hang out our wash. People started their cars by fires in small pans under the oil pan of their cars. We were working for the day when we could come home. Part of each payday was put aside for the payment on a small farm that we hoped to someday come home to. Spring broke and the highways were opened and our dreams materialized and we followed the mail truck out through the Strawberry stretch and came home. With three little children it was a risky thing to do, but youth has more faith than good sense.”