Morgan D. Harris Stories

I am father's daughter. I am grateful for him today and everyday. He is 77 today. He is in Africa, in Nairobi, Kenya on a mission for our church. He and my mom bring wells of fresh water to villages, give wheelchairs to those in need, and do other humanitarian efforts there. 

My dad is one of the biggest hearted people I know. He loves people and will do anything he can to help a friend. He has been a rock for me throughout my life and I have called him for help in the middle of the night or at 4 am or whenever I have really needed him. He has always come to my aid. I will share a couple of those stories for your entertainment.

One day when Jon and I were dating, my car got towed. I was living in D.C. and parked out in front of my house while we went to grab Jon's luggage and take him to their airport to go back home to L.A. In the time we went into the house my car was towed. I hadn't realized we were in a no parking time right then. So I hailed a cab for Jon and the next morning before work my roommate took me to the impound lot to get my car.

Now I didn't live in a nice part of D.C. In fact, one cabbie who took me home said, "You don't actually live here do you?" When I said I did he said, "Lady, you gotta move! This is not a good place." I told him it was not that bad to which he replied, "No it is. I got shot a block from here. You gotta move."

Well as bad as my area was, the impound loss was WAY worse. It was in one of the areas I was scared to go to and trust me when I say not much scared me back then. So my roommate dropped me off and headed to work and I walked into the impound office in my business suit and heels feeling very out of place and asked for my car. 

That's when they lady told me I couldn't get my car out because it was registered in my dad's name. I tried to see if there was any way she could call my dad and he could let me get the car. No deal. She said I would have to have him go get a notarized statement and have it sent to the impound to get the car. 

I was beside myself. I was stranded and scared. This was not an area where cabs drove by regularly. I walked out of the office and saw a pay phone. Luckily, while I didn't have a cell phone back then, my parents had a 1-800 number we could use to call in case of an emergency. I used it. 

It was between 7:00-8:00 a.m. in D.C. that means between 3:00 and 4:00 a.m. Las Vegas time. I didn't even think about that as I dialed the number. I woke my dad up of coarse. I was crying. I explained my situation. I don't know what I thought he would be able to do from his bed 3000 miles away but that didn't even give me pause. My dad just always was able to help me when I was in trouble and so calling him was instinct.

He told me to put the impound lady on the phone. Well, she was in the office and I was out on the street, so I couldn't do that. I told him that she wasn't going to budge. I had already done my best to persuade her. He told me to wait 5 minutes and call him back. He was going to call her. 

So I hung up. 5 minutes later I called back. He told me to go in the office. She would ask to see my ID and give me the car. Miracle right? No that is just my dad. Apparently, my mom's name, Ann Harris, was also on the registration and my name is Stephanie Ann Harris. He told the lady I was on the registration but that he had used my middle name on the registration not my first. I was never more grateful to be named after my mother. 

So I showed my ID and she showed me my car. I got in to find out the lights had been left on and the battery was dead. I had jumper cables but no one to give me a jump. The lady said she couldn't help me with that. So I went back to the street with my jumper cables to try and find a good Samaritan in the hood. I thought I had it made when a police car came by. I ran up to him and asked for his help. He told me he wouldn't give me a jump and that I really shouldn't be in that neighborhood. Thanks copper. Thanks. And he drove off. 

After about 15 minutes doing all I could to get someone to stop, short of hiking up my skirt, the lady from the office finally came out and took pity on me and told me that although it was against policy, she would use one of the impound cars to give me jump. I have no doubt this change of heart was prompted by my father's phone call and the way he connected with her the way he did and does will all people. I finally got out of there. Thanks be to my father.

A second story: my scariest experience ever.

One night when I was a very young child I turned my light off and took my customary two giant steps toward my bed and jumped up onto it. I had an antique iron bed that was almost a foot off the ground with nothing underneath and covers that came to just inches from the floor. I was always scared something would be hiding under there to get me since that was a place I often hid. 

So I would jump onto my bed from as far away as possible each night. As I laid there trying to fall asleep, I felt my bed move. I froze in fright. Being the completely logical reasonable girl I was, I started to come up with how my bed could move on its own that were NOT my fear of a monster being under there. 

Maybe the wind did it. No the window was closed. Maybe I had moved and didn't realize it. Hmmm. Maybe? So I laid perfectly still, frozen in place and waited. And the bed DEFINITELY moved again. At this point, I screamed, "DAAAAAADDDD!!!!" My dad was half asleep as he came to my room, turned on the light and asked me what was wrong. 

"Something's under my bed!" I told him. At this point he signed an exhausted sign and said, "Stephanie, there is nothing under your bed. Look under your bed and see so we can all go back to bed." 

"Nu uh! No way! There is SOMETHING under my bed!!!"

He tried again to persuade me to look under my bed so I could see my fears were unfounded and we could go to bed. I would not. No way. "YOU look under my bed!" I said. Seeing I was firm in my decision, he said, "Fine. If I come look under your bed will you then look and see there is nothing there so we can go to bed?"

I considered this. After a few moments I consented. So my dad walked over to my bed and while lifting the bed spread so he could look under my bed and slowly bending down he kept his eyes on me. He had a little half grin on his face and twinkle in his eye as he teasingly said to me, "I'm looking under your bed. I'm looking under your bed..."

At this point the something under my bed reached out and grabbed my dad's ankle. 

In one fail swoop and with a startled yelp, my dad was OUT of my room and in the hall. And I was left alone with the thing under my bed! 

Then I heard my older sister Lesli laughing... from under my bed. She got us both... good. I learned that it is good to face your fears. They are most likely not as scary as you think.

Hope you enjoyed those two stories. I love my dad and I am grateful for him.

Grandma Mary Ann Harris

Grandma came to live with me for about a month from Thanksgiving to Christmas of 2001. I had one little girl who was 6 months old, Sabrina. We lived in a two bedroom home. My husband Jonathan and I gave Grandma our bedroom and we moved into the nursery to sleep on a futon we had in there.

I have lots of choice memories from our time with Grandma that month. She was 97 at the time I believe, about to turn 98. She would pack her bag at least once a day to go catch the bus to go back to her childhood home and meet up with her brothers Louis and Parley. I always just told her the bus didn't come till tomorrow.

But there were moments when she was fully with us and completely lucid. I wrote down some of the things she would say in those moments. And I learned from her everyday.

I watched her fold my clothes with such exactness and perfection that by the time her strong hands were done pressing down the fold in the clothes there was no need for ironing. It took her hours to fold but the clothes were folded to perfection and "hand ironed by Grandma" as Jon and I came to term it.

I took her to a ward dinner. People were milling around as a few were setting up. Grandma at 97 hobbled around the gym putting table cloths on tables and the younger people sat around chatting. She would not be stopped from helping and serving.

One night I had been up with the baby several times when I heard Grandma up packing her bags in the middle of the night. I told Jonathan to go put her back to bed. He stumbled off and a few seconds later came quickly back fully awake. He said, "uh, you are going to have to go do that because she thinks I am a rapist there to have my way with her and she could totally take me out." I laughed and went in and settled her back into bed.

One morning I was making her breakfast. I wondered if she knew who I was. I asked her "Grandma, do you know who I am?" She looked at me deeply, studiously, and then nodded her head. Then she said slowly, "you are the one who feeds me." I told her she was right on that and not to forget it. ;)

She gave me her recipe for farm bread complete with "lard the size of egg" as one of the ingredients. She also gave me parenting advice. She told me to choose my children's friends for them but not to let them know it. I should pick the friends and families I liked and invite those kids over to dinner often. Then the kids would become friends.

Here is a letter she dictated to my baby girl while she lived with us:

Dear Sabrina,

Be a good girl. Your smile will brighten up the people. You are as bright as a dollar - a real happy baby. You will be headstrong but your mother will teach you. All the happiness you give to people from your eyes to your smiling face, it will be a pleasure to meet you. You have a good mother and father who will take care of you. Your great grandmother smiles whenever she looks at you. You make me laugh. You have a smile for everybody. And your eyes are as bright as they can be. And your hands waits for me to shake them. You are a real beauty. Your mother should give you a little ice cream and the corner of the loaf of homemade bread.

Have a happy life and enjoy all that happens for good.
A smile for your Grandma - Love - Grandma Harris

Here are a few more quotes from her time with us:
"FOUR girls!!! Four girls I had. Then I got my two boys"
I asked why the girls were so hard: "Girls are always under your feet and you have to sew all those petticoats and dresses. And when they go out you always worry. Boys, you send them out with their father and you are done."
"Her eyes (Sabrina's) are as big and bright as dollars!"
While nursing... "The whole world could turn upside down. She's got something to suck, she don't give a damn."
"Give her a year and a half and she'll understand you."
"Teach her right from wrong and the rest of her life you'll cooperate."
"You make her clothes and treat her like a little girl growing up and she'll never forget you and your way will be her way."
"She has a father. She's lucky"
"You dress her like she likes, a new dress for important things, and you can keep her satisfied. And she'll always come back to you to ask you what's the difference and you'll never have to worry when she goes."
"She is a beautiful little bit of femininity."

One last memory of Grandma for this post. I have more but will share them later. One night a few years before she lived with us, we stopped in Caldwell to visit. I'm not sure what year it was but we were driving through and I was with my Dad. We stayed the night at Dave and Sharon's there and Grandma was with them. I got to sleep in bed with her that night.

I remember her laying in the bed and getting uncharacteristically melancholy. She said, "How long? How long am I gonna be here? Its been 10 (not sure if this was the number she said but it was between 10 and 20) years since Morgan died. I've been waiting so long." She really missed Grandpa and wanted so much to go be with him. I am happy she is happy and with him now.

Photos below of Grandma with Sabrina when she lived with me in Nov. and Dec. 2001

Photos of Morgan and Mary and Morgans' D. at the farm

 Morgan W. Harris

Morgan D II, Morgan Wilford, Morgan D. Harris

Stephen and Darlene Tanner Wedding reception, Boulder Colorado, 1983

 Mary Ann Deschamps

Morgan D. Harris I

Jewelry of the Home

Uncle Dave told us this week about how after Grandpa Morgan W. had finished building the farm house, he went to Anderson Lumber (where he had purchased all the wood for the house) to buy the finishings (door handles and hinges etc.) He said Morgan picked out some finishings and took the to the counter to buy them.

The shop keeper said, "Are you sure you don't want something nicer than this? These finishings are the jewelry of a home!" With that thought in mind, Morgan went back and picked out some of the nicest finishing in the store. When he brought them up to pay for them, the shop owner told him he would not accept his money. He told Morgan that these finishings were a house warming gift to him from the store.

Oh if only all businesses ran this way still.

New Shoes

This story was shared with me by Suzanne Francis, daughter of Delene Parry, in an email she sent me in 2011. I left it in her word and only edited to clarify who the people in the story were.

"Your dad (Morgan Deschamps Harris) lived with my family (Delene Parry family) in Ogden for a while before he went on his mission.  I (Suzanne Perry Francis) was like in 2nd or 3rd grade.  He worked at the shoe department at the Bon Marche.  On one occasion I was in need of shoes so mom took me there to get some shoes. I wanted one kind and mom told me I needed some other kind (a more sensible kind than I wanted). We ended in a stalemate and I went home shoeless. I shed many tears that night.  When I woke up the next morning,  there were my prized shoes...your dad had bought them for me.  

"He (Morgan D. Harris) also didn't like gum chewing girls and gave me some money if I wouldn't chew gum for a whole month.  Ask him if he remembers his poem about a "gum chewing girl and a cud chewing cow". I don't remember the entire poem ---just that phrase."

I (Stephanie Harris Waite) heard the poem she refers to many times growing up. It went as follows: "The gum chewing girl and the cud chewing cow, they seem so similar but their is a difference somehow. Oh yes! I see it now! It's the intelligent look on the face of the cow."