The Story of my Life
Louise Virginia (Weir) Frasier
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hat was a good job at Roswell on the missile silos. Daddy was carpenter and welding foreman. Jobs were hard to find, but after working there for three months, Daddy came home at ten o’clock one morning.
He said, “I don’t know where I’m going to work, but I’m not working there anymore. Someone is going to get killed and I sure don’t want to die like that.” Safety rules were terrible.
Daddy had his crew about halfway up on the side of the hole, welding. The superintendent told them to get out of the way, they were going to pour concrete. Daddy said, “This won’t hold.” The Superintendent said, “It looks fine to me.”
Daddy gathered up his things and quit. We all left the next day for Florida, leaving the trailer there in Roswell. We got to Frank and Carrie’s at ten o’clock Sunday night. They were watching the ten o’clock news. Almost the first thing they said was that there had been an accident on that missile site. Thirteen men were killed! They had poured the concrete without telling the men below and tons of concrete poured on top of them. The forms didn’t hold!
We rented an apartment in Pensacola and Daddy went to Tampa and all around, but couldn’t find any work. Then he went to Denver to work on missile sites there. So we were paying payments on a lot and electricity in Corrales; payments, rental space, and electricity for the trailer in Roswell; rent on an apartment in Pensacola for me and the girls; and rent on an apartment for Daddy in Denver. When school was out, Daddy came and got me and the girls and we rented a motel apartment in Denver.
Daddy and I went to Albuquerque and sold the lot in Corrales. Then we went to Roswell and decided to rent out the trailer. The trailer park owner lived at the park. He was the pastor of a Baptist church and his wife was a county nurse. He said that he’d take care of the trailer and rental for ten percent and we agreed. While we were still there, he rented the trailer to an Air Force officer. We went back to Denver. The park owner never sent any money for the rental, but said that he was banking it for us.
After six months we decided we better go to Roswell to find out what was happening to our trailer. We left the girls with friends. When we got to Roswell, a truck was being hitched to the trailer. The people were moving it to Montana! Well, we put a stop to that! We moved it to another park. We never got a cent of rent for that six months.
The missile silos at Roswell were in the second phase, ready for millwrights, so the girls and I moved back to the trailer in Roswell. Daddy worked in Denver for six more months, until the silos there were completed. Then he came to Roswell where the girls and I were living in the trailer. He worked in Roswell until the missile silos there were completed. Then we pulled the trailer to Fort Walton Beach, Florida. Why? I’ll never know, we knew that there was no work. Daddy did work in Georgia some—away from home again!
| Paul, Hazel,
Vernon, Louise, Millard,
Grandma and Grandpa Frasier -
While we lived in Florida that time I had another psychic experience. Only those of you that have seen, been led into, have become the light will understand what I’m talking about. We were living at Fort Walton Beach, Florida. I was so sick that I couldn’t stand on my feet. The doctor said that I had bleeding tumors and he was going to operate on me. I had an appointment to see him on Friday and he would set up the surgery schedule. H.N. was working in Savannah, Georgia and Carrie would take me to the doctor.
About eleven o’clock at night I was asleep when someone called me and I was in the light. Not so much a light as a cleanness. My right hand was tingling. I saw the light; I was in the light; I was the light. The thought was in my mind that if I could touch the world with my right hand all ills would be cured. A second? A minute? An hour? A dream? All I know is that the next morning when Carrie came to take me to the doctor, I was ironing. When the doctor examined me he said that the tumors were gone.
I still feel power in my right hand. I can rub it over warts and they go away. No one ever told me if Candy’s warts went away after I rubbed them at the reunion that we had at George William’s. But I know that they did, for I felt an electric current between us that shocked me.
We moved from Florida back to New Mexico and left the trailer in Florida, but moved it later. We lived on North West Fourth Street in Albuquerque and Daddy worked in Farmington. Then we moved the trailer back to Suburban Trailer Park and that has been our address ever since.
Dot, Carrie, Evelyn, John, Virginia, Martha,
Bill, Pat, Hoyt, Margie -
We bought a twenty-eight foot travel trailer and Daddy took it to Questa, New Mexico when he went to work there. The girls and I spent the three summer months in Questa, and when school started, we came back to Albuquerque to the trailer.
In 1964, we went to Beaumont, Texas and lived in the travel trailer for a year and then moved the big trailer there. Daddy worked in Beaumont until March 1968 then left and went to Farmington, New Mexico. The girls (only Evelyn and Martha home now) and I stayed in Beaumont until school was out. H.N. was on his way to Beaumont to move us to Farmington when it became important for him to leave this world behind.
On Sunday night (the night before Daddy was killed) I was watching T.V. about eleven o’clock. Suddenly I was in an arena on the plains of Texas. All the seats, or bleachers, were on one side facing West. It was a typical arena scene, everyone noisy, vendors selling stuff. The Western sky was clear. Then suddenly everything stopped—not a noise or movement. The western sky was filled with light and hundreds of voices said, “J---,” like they meant to say, “John.”
Then a Being appeared with a crown on his head, his arms out-stretched. The light was so white that it hurt my eyes. Then a beam appeared under the Being’s feet, and on that beam in golden letters was written the words, “Come unto me, all you that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Then I was back in the living room. It had only been a few seconds because the commercial was still on.
I had the feeling that the words written on the beam were meant as a comfort to me, and therefore, I would be in need of comfort. I was afraid that it meant that John would have an accident on his way home from Charlotte’s house. I went to the phone and called Mrs. Green and asked her if John could sleep at her house that night: he stayed, sometimes. She lived about fifteen miles out in the country.
The same thing happened—but on a much smaller scale, the size of a T.V. screen—the night before Margie had an accident, killing a seven year old girl. And it happened again the night Bill rolled a new pick-up truck—no one was hurt. That time, it was as if a door opened on a T.V. screen and then closed before I could see it—just got a glimpse of it.
Anyway, the next afternoon, Monday at ten after four o’clock, I was watching T.V. with Evelyn and Martha. Something said, “Go to the bed-room and pray.” I ran, but before I got to the bed-room, the need to pray had passed. I told the girls, “When your Daddy calls, I’m going to tell him that I love him before I say another word.” I had talked to him Friday night and he was very unlike himself. He was coming home, but didn’t know when he would leave. He said that he would call me at nine o’clock Monday night wherever he was.
While I waited for him to call, I got my address book, a sheet of paper, and a pen. I wrote phone numbers: Virginia’s, Bill’s at his apartment, Mrs. Green’s where John was, Mama’s, Ma Frasier’s, and Evelyn’s. I left the paper on the table under the telephone. When the phone didn’t ring at nine o’clock, I got uneasy, but decided that he might be there any minute.
At ten o’clock the Beaumont police called. They had a message for me to call a number at Brownfield, Texas. I dialed the number and when a man answered, I asked, “Was that a fatal accident?” He said, “Yes Ma’am.” I got the young man next door to dial the numbers for me. I told everyone, “Your Dad is dead.”
Before Daddy died, I had a dream about my fifty year high school reunion. I didn’t remember the names of my classmates but they were all there. They were all old. Daddy wasn’t with me in the dream and afterward I wondered why. Later, when I went to the reunion it was just like the dream, and of-course Daddy was not with me because he had died.
I didn’t start drinking coffee until after I got married. Then I drank two cups every morning. If I didn’t drink my regular two cups, I got a headache. But about eighteen months after Daddy died I got a different kind of headache. It hurt for about four months so bad that I couldn’t tell where it hurt. The doctor thought that I might have a brain tumor. One morning at three o’clock I got up crying with the headache. I drank one cup of coffee and poured another one, still crying. Daddy said, “Quit drinking that damn coffee. It has tannic acid and is killing you. Don’t drink tea either.” I didn’t drink the second cup of coffee and before dark that day, my headache was gone and I’ve never had that kind of headache again.
Mama had a psychic experience while she was in the hospital before she died. She had a dog named JoJo and one morning when I got to the hospital, she said, “Did JoJo get hurt?” I said, “When?”
She said, “When that truck hit him this morning.” I said, “Mama, JoJo didn’t get hit by a truck.” She said, “I know he did. I saw him.”
The very next morning when me and Dora left the house JoJo followed to the street and a truck hit him. He did not get killed, but was crippled as long as he lived. I’ve forgotten what they call that when you see something before it happens.