The Yellow Dress - A Tribute to My Father on His Birthday

The year was 1961 - spring time - I was a junior in high school.

We were driving home from church, and I leaned over the back seat (no seat belts in those days), and said to my mom and dad, "I forgot to tell you, but tonight is Seminary graduation."

(Side bar: back in those olden days, you graduated from Seminary after three years, post grad in four years.  So as a junior, I was graduating.)

My mother was upset, "Why didn't you tell me?  Merrill, did you hear that?  What will she wear?  Loni, if you had told me, I could have made you a new dress.  I just don't know what you will wear...."

The theme continued on our long drive home.

We piled out of the car.  My father went in and made a phone call....none of us knew the nature of the call, as he always made calls on Sunday.

Just as I finished setting the table, and mom was telling us to come eat, dad said, "Loni, get in the car!"

"But, it's time for dinner," my mom said.

"We'll eat when we get home," and saying that, we got in the car and drove all the way back into town.  I don't remember what my dad talked about, or if he did talk on our way into town, but I know I was very curious about the reason for this sudden trip.

In 1961 in Pocatello, Idaho, there were hardly any stores open on Sundays...certainly not any where my family shopped.  And, we NEVER shopped on Sundays.  It was the Sabbath, so we shopped on Saturday or other days of the week.  So, this was all very puzzling to me.

We drove into the center of town....practically deserted.  We pulled up in front of the fanciest dress store in town: THE PARIS - a store I had never even been inside of.   We certainly couldn't afford to shop there. As we got out of the car, Sister Olson from our ward, was also pulling up.  She was O.L.D. (she was probably about 50). But, she was by far, the classiest dresser in our humble ward because she was the manager of the fancy dress shop.  She stood by the front door of THE PARIS with a large bunch of keys in her hand.

"Good morning, Merrill.  Good morning, Loni," she said in her strong, take-charge voice.

Then she unlocked the front door of THE PARIS, we walked in the empty store and my dad said, "Loni, now go get yourself a dress for Seminary graduation."

Since that time, I have had many new dresses.  One of my all-time favorites was one my mother made me for Seminary Post Grad the next year when I was a Senior.  I had a fantastic blue dress for my wedding get-away dress.  I have bought some dresses that cost more than they were worth, but they were nice dresses.  I've made some dresses for myself that were fun and just what I wanted.

But, I don't think any dress meant as much to me as the yellow dress I wore that spring evening in 1961.

Thanks, dad.  You always and ever were there for us.

Happy Birthday.