Grandpa Cram

 

Before I finish blogging about my life I feel the need to mention some of the stories I have heard my parents tell concerning my grandparents.  Let's start with my mothers family.  I heard many stories of my grandfather and his brothers when they were young.  They lived in Utah and were tall boys and men.  Grandpa ( Mark W. Cram) and his brother Victor Cram lived in a much wilder time than what we are used to. Part of his young life he lived in the colonies in Mexico. As young men they carried guns.  Uncle Vic was a pony express rider in his twenties. Of course they had horses and horse and buggy was what they learned to drive as teenagers. Grandpa told the story of driving into the farm yard a little too fast in the buggy and overturning
it. Sounds like some of the stunts my boys did but they were in Cars! Grandpa went to Brigham Young Academy and graduated as a teacher.  While there he played basketball.  He told me he that he was one of the students who put the first Y on the mountain.

 He also was a referee for girls basketball games and that is how he met my grandmother.( Rose Mariah Stoney)  He was refereeing her game and called a number of fouls on her during the game.  My Great grandmother(Sarah Jakeman )heard of it and being the feisty little Englishwoman that she was (not even 5 ft. tall) she was spitin' mad at that referee.  Grandmother, of course, took it in stride, especially as Grandpa asked her if he could call on her.  The next day when he came to the house to see her, great grandma tried to run him off the property with a broom.  It must not have stopped him because Grandma and Grandpa ended up getting married.



After graduation Grandpa took a job working as a teacher in Ogden, Utah.  He taught Wood Shop.  He loved making things with wood.  He made Guitars, and Ukeleles.  He even made a small half round table with the head of an Indian carved into the top. We all loved that table.  We grew up with it in our house.  Paula ended up with it and had it for years in her front hall.  Grandpa never liked that table because he had carved the Indian facing the wall instead of facing outward.

I remember Grandpa bouncing me on his knee when I was little.  He would sing "I went in the hen house on my knees, and there I saw a chicken sneeze.  He sneezed so hard with the whooping cough, he sneezed his head and his tail right off!" As he sang he would bounce me from one knee to the other. Oh how we loved our grandpa.  He was a sweet loving man who loved his family and who loved the lord.