HOPE, Was My Best Friend
My name is Wilma Smith and I’d like to tell you a true story about how I met the best friend I ever had “Hope Hickenlooper.”
In January of 1940 Mother enrolled in Ogden Utah Business College where she renewed her elementary school teaching credentials. That fall she was awarded a contract to teach Special Education classes at Ogden’s Grant Elementary School. Hill Air Force Base, a new supply and training center, opened south of Ogden City. In the summer of 1941, my mother took a Civil Service examination at the air base. She was immediately hired for a position in the Airplane Parts Supply Division. Her new job paid a higher salary, better benefits as well as opportunity for career advancement.
In 1942, my mother managed to buy an old clapboard, two story home on Ogden’s upper bench at 1128 Oak Street. The house needed serious cleaning and painting. Friends helped my mother and I complete the cleaning and painting. We move into the house during the summer of my fourteenth year. When classes began in September at Central Junior High, I had a long walk to school; however church was only one and one half blocks from home. The first Sunday in our new home, Mother my brother Eldon and I walked to church for Sunday school at the Twentieth Ward. I met Hope in Sunday school. I was shy and reserved while she was witty and outspoken. Her large brown eyes, dark hair, and quick, friendly, joyous laughter immediately garnered my attention. She approached me after class and said, “You moved into the house which is directly through the block from where I live, shall we walk home together?” Thus began a friendship which has endured for almost sixty years. Hope and I were both born in 1927. We shared many other background similarities. Her Mother Lottie Hickenlooper, a widow, was a school teacher. My mother Mabel, also a widow, was a former school teacher. Hope’s sister Jocelyn and my brother Eldon were handicapped. Each of us had a half-brother from our fathers’ first marriage. Our first child born was a boy. She had Jean, and I had Randy. Her brother Karl Wallace Hickenlooper and my brother Darrell W Doxey were both born in May 1934. I was delighted to a friend of Hope’s. When we were young teenagers Hope’s family invited me to accompany them on a long week-end vacation at the Bear Lake, Idaho Resort. Hope and I conspired to use movie stars names at the resort when we introduced ourselves to new acquaintances. Because I admired the movie stars Linda Darnel and Veronica Lake, I became Linda Lake. Hope liked Lana Turner and Heddy Lamar, Therefore she became Lana Lamar. While wading along the beach at Bear Lake we met several interesting teen-age boys. They seemed smitten with our flirtations and wanted to write to us. We were amazed the boys did not question the unusual names. Two of the young men did indeed write to us. Hope and I discussed our shared feelings of guilt and decided our easiest option was to not answer the letters. For those few days we enjoyed the fantasy of being movie stars. At the height of the world at war, Hope left Ogden High School at the age of fifteen. She married Miland Coburn, a Corps man in the Navy, recently graduated from Ogden High. They were stationed in Hailey, Idaho for two years. After the war ended, Mike was accepted in the class of ‘46 at Loyola Dental School University of Chicago. They had two children, Gene and Karlene, and for the next two years Hope worked part time. When Miland was a junior, Hope for reason I don't recall, moved back to Salt Lake City, 452 Harvard Avenue with Muddie and her younger sibling Wally. Karlene and Hope camped out in the dining room; Gene went to live with his uncle Royal and his wife Genève in Payson, Utah. I admired Hope's grit and determination. Even as she had to return to work to financially support herself and Karlene, she maintained her same bubbly, happy positive outlook. She was the smartest person I ever knew.
Through many of Hope’s and my life challenges, struggles and passages, we gave each other encouragement and support. Our letters written over sixty years included pithy and honest observations as well as enduring, unqualified love and acceptance for each other. I still have bundles of Hope’s letters.
Years ago Hope and her fourth husband Bill moved from the Point of the Mountain to Staint George Utah. Very much in love, living in a beautiful condo on the edge of town. Bill alway energic had a full time job as a janitor for the church. His work was close enough he could come home for lunch on his lunch hour. He had another part time delivering cars to Vegas and of course you guessed it Hope would go along for the ride. Bill also worked in the eight condo units as the president which took up time with a smiling face.
Ogden, Utah to Pocatello, Idaho to be near Hope’s youngest daughter Janet and son-in-law Dan George and their children. In the summer of 1997, Hope began experiencing health problems. I received word last fall that Hope had suffer a stroke. She experience great difficulty in walking but could still talk and write letters. When I last spoke to her on the long distance telephone she seemed depressed. Near the end of our conversation her spirits seemed to lift. Once again, for a few moments, I enjoyed her lilting personality. Three weeks ago I was awakened by a vivid dream about my friend, Hope. In the dream we were standing in back of a church, but were positioned on opposite sides of the chapel. Hope was holding an open book and was trying to tell me something. I said to her, “Hope, I can’t hear what you are
The dream was so intense; I awoke with a start and a feeling of concern for my friend Hope. I promised myself to call her that evening, which was a Friday. Somehow I just could not place the call. The following afternoon, when I returned home from a walk along the beach, a call from Hope’s daughter, Janet, was waiting on my answering machine. Janet told me her mother had passed away about 9:00PM the night before. A psychologist might explain my dream as expressing an unconscious concern about the health condition of a close friend. I prefer to believe my son Randy’s explanation. Randy said,“Mother, Hope was trying to tell you that her book of life was about to close.”
In 1942, my mother managed to buy an old clapboard, two story home on Ogden’s upper bench at 1128 Oak Street. The house needed serious cleaning and painting. Friends helped my mother and I complete the cleaning and painting. We move into the house during the summer of my fourteenth year. When classes began in September at Central Junior High, I had a long walk to school; however church was only one and one half blocks from home. The first Sunday in our new home, Mother my brother Eldon and I walked to church for Sunday school at the Twentieth Ward. I met Hope in Sunday school. I was shy and reserved while she was witty and outspoken. Her large brown eyes, dark hair, and quick, friendly, joyous laughter immediately garnered my attention. She approached me after class and said, “You moved into the house which is directly through the block from where I live, shall we walk home together?” Thus began a friendship which has endured for almost sixty years. Hope and I were both born in 1927. We shared many other background similarities. Her Mother Lottie Hickenlooper, a widow, was a school teacher. My mother Mabel, also a widow, was a former school teacher. Hope’s sister Jocelyn and my brother Eldon were handicapped. Each of us had a half-brother from our fathers’ first marriage. Our first child born was a boy. She had Jean, and I had Randy. Her brother Karl Wallace Hickenlooper and my brother Darrell W Doxey were both born in May 1934. I was delighted to a friend of Hope’s. When we were young teenagers Hope’s family invited me to accompany them on a long week-end vacation at the Bear Lake, Idaho Resort. Hope and I conspired to use movie stars names at the resort when we introduced ourselves to new acquaintances. Because I admired the movie stars Linda Darnel and Veronica Lake, I became Linda Lake. Hope liked Lana Turner and Heddy Lamar, Therefore she became Lana Lamar. While wading along the beach at Bear Lake we met several interesting teen-age boys. They seemed smitten with our flirtations and wanted to write to us. We were amazed the boys did not question the unusual names. Two of the young men did indeed write to us. Hope and I discussed our shared feelings of guilt and decided our easiest option was to not answer the letters. For those few days we enjoyed the fantasy of being movie stars. At the height of the world at war, Hope left Ogden High School at the age of fifteen. She married Miland Coburn, a Corps man in the Navy, recently graduated from Ogden High. They were stationed in Hailey, Idaho for two years. After the war ended, Mike was accepted in the class of ‘46 at Loyola Dental School University of Chicago. They had two children, Gene and Karlene, and for the next two years Hope worked part time. When Miland was a junior, Hope for reason I don't recall, moved back to Salt Lake City, 452 Harvard Avenue with Muddie and her younger sibling Wally. Karlene and Hope camped out in the dining room; Gene went to live with his uncle Royal and his wife Genève in Payson, Utah. I admired Hope's grit and determination. Even as she had to return to work to financially support herself and Karlene, she maintained her same bubbly, happy positive outlook. She was the smartest person I ever knew.
Through many of Hope’s and my life challenges, struggles and passages, we gave each other encouragement and support. Our letters written over sixty years included pithy and honest observations as well as enduring, unqualified love and acceptance for each other. I still have bundles of Hope’s letters.
Years ago Hope and her fourth husband Bill moved from the Point of the Mountain to Staint George Utah. Very much in love, living in a beautiful condo on the edge of town. Bill alway energic had a full time job as a janitor for the church. His work was close enough he could come home for lunch on his lunch hour. He had another part time delivering cars to Vegas and of course you guessed it Hope would go along for the ride. Bill also worked in the eight condo units as the president which took up time with a smiling face.
Ogden, Utah to Pocatello, Idaho to be near Hope’s youngest daughter Janet and son-in-law Dan George and their children. In the summer of 1997, Hope began experiencing health problems. I received word last fall that Hope had suffer a stroke. She experience great difficulty in walking but could still talk and write letters. When I last spoke to her on the long distance telephone she seemed depressed. Near the end of our conversation her spirits seemed to lift. Once again, for a few moments, I enjoyed her lilting personality. Three weeks ago I was awakened by a vivid dream about my friend, Hope. In the dream we were standing in back of a church, but were positioned on opposite sides of the chapel. Hope was holding an open book and was trying to tell me something. I said to her, “Hope, I can’t hear what you are
The dream was so intense; I awoke with a start and a feeling of concern for my friend Hope. I promised myself to call her that evening, which was a Friday. Somehow I just could not place the call. The following afternoon, when I returned home from a walk along the beach, a call from Hope’s daughter, Janet, was waiting on my answering machine. Janet told me her mother had passed away about 9:00PM the night before. A psychologist might explain my dream as expressing an unconscious concern about the health condition of a close friend. I prefer to believe my son Randy’s explanation. Randy said,“Mother, Hope was trying to tell you that her book of life was about to close.”
To read more Karl Wallace Stories go to: karlwallaceblog.blogspot.com
Email: drkarlwallace@gmail.com
