Greg Livingston's Book of Remembrance

Greg Livingston

My first memory consists of me playing outside with my brothers and our dog. I remember playing with a fox tail, a toy that we threw up high in the air to catch it. It waved and we watched in amazement. I remember running down the street with my dog, Oliver, who was a good dog. Shortly after Oliver got into a fight with another dog, and was bit. He had to be put down, and that was a very sad thing for me. I did not like not having a dog. I loved him, and my brothers and I were very sad. I started to get angry at the dog that bit poor Oliver, so I decided I would do something about it. I found some shear clippers in the garage, and thought I would try my luck with the Doberman a few doors down. Needless to say, I did not get far with those clippers. He did not like the look of me coming at him. I learned very quickly that I could not do that. He bit me on the top of the head, and gave me a rather large gash. Somehow I got away, or maybe was rescued, and then I was taken to the hospital. Seventeen hours I waited there, and enjoyed it about as much as one would think. After a long time waiting, I’m sure my parents were tired of succoring me, I finally went in to get my head torn apart again to stitch it up properly. I still have a large scar, but it is in my scalp, so it is hidden by hair luckily.

I hate to say that this even set the stage for my life, but this is as far back as I can remember, so I must start from here. I was traumatized from this experience, because I was a very sensitive boy. I did not like to fight, and did not like to get on people’s bad side. Many of my aunts, and uncles, and my grandma and grandpa have told me that I was just a nice, happy boy. My grandma Sisco(Smith), said that I was the happiest boy anyone ever saw, I would laugh, play, and just enjoy being alive. My aunts and uncles tell about how I would play with them, and all the fun times we had together. I loved to help my Mom out with chores, and cleaning up. I also loved to be with my “Grandma with the brown hair,” or my “Grandma with the white hair.” They both treated me like a king, giving me whatever I wanted. They spoiled me. I took advantage of this because of course my parents would not do the same. Sometimes when I was over at my “Grandma with the Brown Hair’s” house, I would organize the shoes. I watched grandma do this, so I organized the shoes in the right spot, and spaced them apart at the right distance. One time, my mom did not know where I was, but then she saw that I had organized the shoes, and her worries went away.

Once it was thanksgiving, and I had just eaten a roll. I loved rolls. Right after dinner when all the kids went out to play, I came up to my grandma and said, “can I have another one of those wonderful balls of bread?” Of course everyone laughed about how this was said, and still laugh today about it whenever we have rolls for dinner.

Many home videos show how I was a chubby boy. I was a very fat baby, weighing eight pounds when I was born, and that fat carried with me. I was always a little chubbier until I reached about age four or five. When I could finally walk, my mother could not keep me down.

My dad told me about times when he would have to tie the rooms together at night, because “ The boys would go “exploring” at night and I had to keep them in their rooms, so, I tied them together with a rope,” so says my dad. I can remember back to the fun times we had in our house in California, we loved to help dad with all of his endeavors. Building trailer accessories for the boat to sit better, tying down the boat cover was always a chore, it was very hard for our little fingers to tie the knots tight with the thick rope.

My parents have many photos of the great times we had going to chop down Christmas trees during Christmas. We would walk the long walk to find the best and tallest tree we could. We would then get help from dad to put together the saw to cut down the tree. We would start, and not make very much progress before our dad came in and finished the work that we had barely started. Dad was a strong believer of doing things ourselves. Why would we go out and buy a Christmas tree when we could go out and cut one down? I was taught to use this philosophy. To this day I still want to do everything on my own. I never take my car to a mechanic unless it is something impossible for me to fix. Other than that I change my own brakes, oil, tires, filters, and anything else that is relatively easy to fix.

Our home from about age 4 to age 8 was Sacramento, California, where we loved. We lived right across a lake called Folsom Lake. We lived in El Dorado Hills. At the time it was a very quiet, dirt road, horses roaming around type place. We enjoyed a few acres of land, where we played all day. We loved to catch lizards, snakes, quails, turkeys, ducks, and anything else we could find. We would put everything in a big bucket, and they would all fight until we finally either let them out, or they crawled or jumped or slithered out of the box. We loved exploring the different areas in the huge backwoods behind our property. This is what I remember about that house, just running around barefoot, catching things, getting dirty, and just being boys. My older brother and my younger brother would go out, and build big forts with sticks and logs, and anything we could find to build a fort.

We loved Sacramento, and a memory my parents reminded me of was when my dad would wake me up early in the morning and throw us in the boat in our sleeping bags. We would wake up when the sun came out, and our dad would be sitting there with a fish on the line. He would let us real it in, and we would love trying to help him get the hook out of its mouth and try and catch another fish. We fished all over the place, and my dad was very, very patient in letting us get snags and getting our snags out and tying a new knot on and switching lures, and get untangled and all the many other things I am sure he enjoyed most about fishing with us.

We were very sad to leave Sacramento, however Dad got a job offer in Park City, Utah to start a development building Condominiums in a neighborhood. We went and that is around the time my life changed drastically. Many of my aunts who saw me all the time said that I changed from being a friendly and happy boy to being a sad, shy boy. I had no friends, and I did not know where I was. I was in a new place full of cold ice, and snow. In recess I remember just walking outside kicking ice and trying to stay warm with a huge stuffed Chicago Bulls jacket. For some reason that was the one I liked the best. After a while I found my first friend in Utah, Scott Wall. He was nice to me, and we were friends in the ward. He and I found that we were in the same grade and in the same school. We then started to race each other in fifth grade. We were both pretty fast, and almost always tied, but everyone knows I was always a little faster.

I learned to enjoy the snow, and gained an appreciation for skiing. I found a way to fit in to Park City by skiing and becoming quite good. My passion was skiing and I did not think about much else in high school. Of course I liked chasing after girls, but I would rather go skiing than chase girls. I found that I did not like team sports at that time in my life because I was not good at them, and I had no friends to help me enjoy it. All throughout high school I kept skiing and skiing and did not think about anything else. I did realize however that I could not make a career out of it, so I started getting jobs, and worked in San Francisco, Alaska, and in many different places in Park City.

I then worked my way to preparing to go on a mission and went to school at BYU-Idaho, the best University on the planet. I learned a lifetime of lessons of course on my mission, and my family always tells about how different I am. They tell me how proud of me they are, and what great things I am doing with my life. This has always been music to my ears. It makes me very happy to hear that someone is proud of me, I am not sure why. When I returned, I was eager to study and accomplish much with my life, as I still am. I met the most wonderful, charming, and sweet girl, who is righteous. Samantha Jean Lee came into my life, and I have felt different ever since. I fell in love with her in a semester, and the next we were apart, while I was working two jobs in Park City. In that time, and in the few weeks after returning to BYU-Idaho, I prayed and received a confirmation that it is a good thing to get married to her. There is the easy part, next came asking her. I asked her by writing in flowers in the sand dunes the words, “Marry Me Sam?” This went over quite well. We got engaged May 28^th, and have been planning and scheduling and trying to complete schoolwork, and working all at once ever since. Sure we are stressed, but we can’t wait to be married. I love her, and can’t wait to have many hard, and good times with her, hopefully at the same time.

Greg Livingston's Book of Remembrance

Monday, July 18, 2011

Birth Certificate

Family Group Sheet

5 Generation Pedigree Chart

Personal History

Timeline

Testimony