“I enjoy my work [in Mexico]. True it is I have seen some horrible things during my stay there. For months in the City of Mexico we awakened every morning to the music of cannons. Day after day we saw houses and even people burning in the streets. And yet I am ready to go back and stay as long as the servants of the Lord shall desire it.”
Rey also opened the doors for LDS missionaries to preach and serve in Argentina, and were instrumental in the translation of LDS church literature from English to Spanish. Samuel Pratt’s “one clear memory of his father was of standing with him at a washbasin while his father washed his (Sammy’s) hands and told him he must always be a good boy, a big boy (Pratt 4).” In April of 1931, amidst the constant strain of Rey’s travel and work, Rey’s health suffered and worsened until in April 1931 after an LDS General Conference, Rey L. Pratt underwent a hernia operation in Salt Lake City, Utah. While in recovery, his condition deteriorated, and he died on April 14 1931, leaving behind his wife and ten surviving children. On April 17 1931, hundreds of people filled the Salt Lake Assembly Hall at Temple Square for Rey L. Pratt’s funeral. Sitting in that assembly, six year old Samuel might have felt fear, loneliness, and possibly even abandonment to have lost his father to death so early in his life, but he probably remembered that day at the wash basin as his father, a man beyond his years and called of God, said to him “Be a good boy, a big boy.” One thing that I have learned from stories such as these is that the human spirit either falls into despair unable to be revived, or it will rise from the dust and soar across the heavens. Rey’s surviving family picked up the shattered pieces of their lives and moved to Provo, Utah and began to live to soar.
Samuel finished his childhood in Provo, Utah and withheld the Mexican and Texan influences his whole life with a special love for the food and music. My father tells that later on in his life, he had an ability to find good quality Mexican food in almost every place he lived. Growing up in the shadow of the beautiful Mount Timpanogas, Samuel quickly fell in love with his new home. He involved himself right away with the music programs in the Provo public school systems. When he reached high school he was playing the flute at the top of his class. From his high school band, Samuel’s friend Darrell Stubbs remembers him “sitting and performing flawlessly on first flute in Wesley Pearce’s Provo High School Band with Darrell under his right elbow” and remembers “the black eye Sam got, in a fight with Calvin Whatcott over a girl (was it Nelma Jean Jones?),” as well as Darrell’s playing third flute (on oboe) in a Kuhlau trio on the steps of the County Building downtown with Sam and Allen Jensen and the neat write-up [in the newspaper] the next day (Pratt 5).” Music was his passion as he so demonstrated at an early age, a passion that would follow him throughout his entire life, affecting his career and his priorities as well as the talents and passions of his children.
In December of 1941, the United States was dragged into World War II after the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Enraging the passions of the American youth, nearly every capable young man enlisted in the armed forces to supplant the axis powers that threatened American democracy and much of the free world. After graduating from High School in 1943, Samuel enlisted in the army where he was assigned to India to transport supplies along the Burma Road. His service in India saw relatively little combat, but he always managed to play up the combat that he did see. In an interview with my father, Allen relates how his father improved on a bridge repair story every time he told it. This is the story in which he did see some combat, affectionately referred to as “There I was, Surrounded by the Enemy”.
Earliest Version: Dad (Sam) and his friend were driving along the Burma Road at night with a cargo of beds. They came to a small bridge with a board removed. Dad got out of the truck to replace the board. He replaced it. He got back into the truck and as they drove away someone fired a shot through the back of the truck.
Later Version: Dad (Sam) and his friend were driving along the Burma Road at night with a cargo of radio parts. They came to a bridge with several boards removed. Dad (Sam) got out of the truck to replace the missing boards. He got back into the truck and as they drove away, the enemy fired a machine gun into the back of the truck.
Even Later Version: Dad (Sam) and his friend were driving along the Burma Road with a cargo of ammunition. They came to a battle-damaged bridge. Dad (Sam) gets out to affect the repairs. He finishes and his friend drives up, he gets in, and as they drive away, a fusillade of machine gun and light canon fire tear through the rear of the truck.
Final Version: Dad (Sam) and his friend were driving down the Burma Road with a cargo of vital medical supplies. They come to a battle damaged road. Dad (Sam) left the truck to fix the bridge. As the project nears completion, enemy soldiers open fire with rifle, machine gun, and mortar fire. His friend drives up and he jumps aboard the truck’s running board. As they drive away, the bridge is completely destroyed by an artillery barrage. (Pratt 6)
Aside from the Burma Road incident, Samuel had many other adventures in India. Perhaps the one that affected him the most was in a Polo accident. As Samuel was riding out onto the playing field a gun was likely fired at him by an Indian who perhaps thought that he was British with his pale skin and blond hair.
He fell from his horse, and people, mostly Indians, rushed around to help. He would not let them help, as he could see bones sticking out of his leg. He was sent to an army hospital in Calcutta, where the doctors put a cast on his leg without cleaning it thoroughly first. He used to say that he did not know how he had avoided getting some horrendous infection, even gangrene. The setting was not too straight, which resulted in some permanent damage in his leg. One leg was shorter than the other, which made walking painful, especially later on in life. His scars were big, white, knotty things, and deeply dented into his shinbone. (Pratt-Davis 7)
He served honorably in the army until 1946 seeing peaceful resolutions and brilliant prospects for the Indians with whom he fought and worked.
After World War II and his military services in India, Samuel Pratt went home to Provo where he lived with his mother for a short time. Coming home one night he saw a skunk in the window well of his mother’s house. Frozen with wonder he stared at the skunk in the window well until his mother came out wondering what could be keeping him from checking in with her.
“Sam, what are you doing? And what is that smell?” his mom asked.
“There’s a skunk in the window well” Sam said.
“Are you drunk Sam?” she asked.
“No, Mother, but there’s a skunk in the window well.” He said with a smirk.
Looking at the window, his mother must have laughed at the strange predicament.
(Pratt-Davis 8)
Samuel told his children this story frequently to perhaps to show the sense of humor and patience that is important to maintain among family members, even if one’s assumptions of another could be considered to be offensive.
Samuel began his academic studies at BYU in 1946 where he studied music. In interviews with Debbie Pratt and Mary Emmett, his daughter in law and granddaughter, they both described Grandpa Sam as a great “ham for the arts” and “especially music”. It was for this reason perhaps that he fell for Miss Ida Louise Frandsen, whose number one passion was also music. Sam later told his daughter Kira that they were both outrageous flirts when they met in their music class. At dances, Louise would tickle the back of his neck or flip a lock of hair out of her face as she smiled adoringly into his eyes. Sam and Louise fell in love bonded by their common talents and interest in music, and in 1947 the two were married at the LDS temple in Manti, Utah. Kira described the two as silly and lighthearted. They did much with their music by involving themselves with the Salt Lake symphony and other groups and events. They purchased a small pedal harp that they learned to play together. On some evenings they would go into the mountains and play the harp and flute together. I can imagine the two in a Disney movie with little squirrels, bunnies, and fawns gathering around them peacefully as they played their music in the mountains. Whenever I see that vision though, it always ends with Grandpa Sam attempting to feed one of the squirrels a rock that is shaped like a Dorito, and getting bitten…and you wonder where Allen’s children get it from! Little did Sam and Louise know that the harp would shape their lives in more ways than they could even begin to understand. Sam and Louise did not have children for their first six years of marriage which was a trial that they bore well, even when Louise had a miscarriage before they moved to New York in 1952. The idea to move to New York came when one day Louise had the idea to move to New York, and while Samuel was at work, he came up with the very same idea. Moving across a few states in stressful enough as you wonder every mile of the road if this decision made on a whim was the right one. Seeing how they did not act on those feelings they showed themselves able to carry out with their plans to leave the home they loved. So they moved to New York with no connections, prospects, or money simply the faith that this was what they needed to do and that God would provide for them.
In 1953 Louise and Samuel had their first child in New York, John William Pratt. For six years they had waited, and now, they were parents. The joy that a father and mother feels as they look down into their child’s sleeping face must have been a joy beyond anything that their music could bring. Things were beginning to look up for them in many ways. While in New York, Samuel had worked several odd jobs along the docks as a longshoreman. After meeting opera singer Roberta Peters, Samuel toured with her playing his flute and sometimes the harp. Touring with this opera singer allowed Samuel to gain experience with his music that would lead to his job offer from Lyon and Healy Harp Company in 1955, which he accepted gladly. In an interview with my father, he told me how Samuel paraded the most with his music and academic pursuits. I can imagine that a man who strutted his musical talent as he did was proud to accept an offer from the Lyon and Healy harp building company. So again Sam and Louise packed up their bags and new baby to move across the country to Los Angeles, California. Shortly after their move, Louise gave birth to Kira Pratt. Kira was named for a Russian ballet dancer that Samuel had met in India during World War II. In 1958 my father Allen was also born in Los Angeles. Allen was named for his uncle as well as some mutual friends of Samuel and Louise. He was by far the most reserved of Samuel’s children, but also the one who became the greatest example to his children and most faithful in keeping his word and living his dreams. Sam and Louise were loving parents and always attentive to their children’s physical needs. Kira recalled a night when she began to see shadows in the dark take the shape of evil robots and monsters. When she screamed, her daddy rushed into her room flipping on the light and held her tight to reassure her that he was there and that there was nothing to be afraid of (Pratt-Davis 12-13). In 1958 Samuel was sent to Chicago to manage one of their harp factories, and in 1960 Samuel was sent back to New York to manage a different Lyon and Healy harp factory, where his designs of a beginner’s harp called the Troubadour began to sell with great success, and his model 30 harp also known as the “Princess Louise” was introduced and became very popular. Also in 1960 Sam and Louise had their last child, Carl Orson Pratt, who was named for Sam’s older brother who had died at an early age. When my father was four, Samuel took his little Allen on a special trip to the car dealership to pick up their new 1962 Ford station wagon. Though my father never said anything about them grinning from ear to ear and laughing together, I can imagine them doing so as they drove in the new car which they christened with the name of “Bessie Mae Mucho”.
Despite my grandfather’s many attributes and talents, he was a human and oftentimes, a very flawed human being. It was with great regret that in 1964 Samuel Pratt divorced his wife Louise after having had an affair with his coworker Rosalie Rebollo. From this experience come some of his children’s greatest lessons on family. From my father, “The lesson I learned from my Dad was almost a negative lesson; don’t treat your wife or children the way he treated his. He was not abusive, he was very kind, but he left his wife and those children he had with her for another family.” From my mother who met him many years after this happening she said, “I learned that we are all human and we make mistakes, but after we make them and repent, the rest of the world [including yourself and family] needs to let us move on and get past that point…you must always love your children even when they are upset with you and not pleased with how you have lived your life. That you just love everyone and accept them for who they are.” To his children he said “understand that I will still love you. Don’t ever forget that I’ll still love you (Pratt-Davis 21). Making it clear that he would always be their daddy, he paved the way for mending the horrible wrong that he had done against his family. He also became a father to Rosalie’s daughters Sandy and Chessy. Though this was a situation in which feelings were fragile, Samuel Pratt began a new course in his life with both negative and positive consequences.
In 1979, Samuel was introduced to his favorite part of life and old age, grandchildren. He was first introduced to the prospect of being a grandfather one night when my mother was leaning over a toilet with morning sickness. After suffering from guilt and self pity for several reasons, he began to think of himself as a grandfather, then as a father, and then a husband, and realized that he needed to concentrate on his family during these years, which would be his last. My mother said that it was like a child on Christmas morning for Samuel when he held my oldest sister Mary, named for Samuel’s mother, for the first time. Years later my sister Mary remembered sitting on his lap as Grandpa Sam tickled her with his beard before they played together in his painting and music studio in his larger sized house. When the Ziploc bag was invented, Grandpa Sam made it a point of teaching his grandchildren how to close and open the bags in a musical way. Before my mother and father were married in 1978, he told my mother that he had great hopes for the futures of Allen’s children, because finally one of his children had married someone with common sense. He could see his grandchildren as an extension or improvement of himself and I think that he saw in my father, a man who would not repeat his mistakes. With how he treated his grandchildren, I think he saw a fresh start and renewal of life’s blessings and potential. He lived to meet eight of his grandchildren whom he loved and cherished individually. One of his proud father and grandfather moments was when his adopted daughter Sandy gave birth to her son in the morning and performed in a harp concert the same evening. Why he was proud of her and not chastising her is something that many of his children do not and will never understand, but I suspect that a new grandchild in the morning with a topping of a wonderful musical performance by his daughter in the evening must have been an exciting day for a man who loved his family and their music. The other proud moment that I remember my father telling me about was fairly soon after my father got his pilot’s license. Samuel had been somewhat disappointed with him for choosing a military career over a university education like many of his other children had done. What changed this was when my father took him flying over the Utah Valley. In the small airplane, they flew over the mountains he loved and the terrain of the place where he had been raised. At one point my father gave him the controls to let him fly the plane, and Samuel was thrilled to have finally flown and to have soared in the heavens.
On June 22, 1985, six months before I was born, Samuel Pratt was in his studio painting when he suffered a heart attack and died. When my sister Mary was told that her Grandpa had passed away, she did not understand how or why her grandpa had gone away or what exactly he had passed through. As she entered the house where everyone shared the news, there was crying and Samuel’s surviving family was subdued in hallowed grief in respect for the life that had ended. His sense of humor and his ability to give his loved ones a feeling of self worth are what each interviewee chose to remember him by, and though every memory of him is not perfect, his legacy lives on in those moments that were perfect.
As I have done this project, not only have I committed myself to telling the rest of his life story, but I have found a grandfather and friend. Over a year ago in a dream, I saw him on the banks of a beautiful lake in Montana where I grew up. During this dream I believe he taught me his life’s greatest lesson when he told me two things. “Do not be afraid! Just be ready!” and “Who you really are, is more important than what you do.” This coming from a man, who focused on accomplishment for much of his life, shows me that he became a man who discovered what was most important in life. Son, daughter, husband, wife, father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, priesthood holder, are the titles that really matter in the eyes of God and reliable, passionate, patient, forgiving, repentant, forgiving, and loving are the attributes which count as those rolls are performed. This is the lesson I learned from his son Allen, and that Samuel O. Pratt now teaches long after his death. Emmett, Mary A. Telephone interview. 19 Nov. 2010.
Pratt, Deborah A. E-mail interview. 30 Nov. 2010.
Pratt, Allen R. E-mail interview. 30 Nov. 2010.
Pratt, Carl O. Telephone interview. 5 Dec. 2010.
Davis, Kira P. The Life and Letter of Samuel O Pratt. The Hague, 1986. Print.
