Joao Pessoa, Brazil

I have become acquainted with a gal who spends part of the year in Joao Pessoa, Brazil, and part of the year in Utah. Below are some pictures and other particulars that may interest family members.

My friend at Church in Joao Pessoa

My friend with her grandchildren

My friend

My friend and her daughter in Utah

My friend in Brazil



My friend in Brazil

 

My friend



According to Wikipedia, João Pessoa (Portuguese pronunciation: [ʒuˈɐ̃w̃ peˈsoɐ]), sometimes called the city where the sun rises first, is a Brazilian city that is the easternmost city in the Americas and is in a metropolitan area of over one million people. Local residents call the easternmost point of the Americas Ponta do Seixas. Joao Pessoa is also considered "the second greenest city in the world". The city has more than 2.7 square miles of forested land, second only to Paris, France. The city is characterized by the juxtaposition of tropical beaches, modern architecture and historic buildings from colonial periods. Joao Pessoa and the surrounding region is a popular tourist attraction.

Recife Brazil Temple



An LDS Chapel in Joao Pessoa

João Pessoa is one of the oldest cities in Brazil. The first Europeans who entered the area were French traders of Brazilwood. The city was founded by Portuguese settlers from Pernambuco on August 5, 1585, following a war between the French, their indigenous allies, the Tabajara, and the Portuguese. The Portuguese named it Nossa Senhora das Neves, --Our Lady of the Snow—after the Saint of that day. Initially, the city was under Spanish influence, as Spain and Portugal were united in the Iberian Union (1580–1640), and in 1588 the city was even renamed Filipéia de Nossa Senhora das Neves after Philip II of Spain.


The area soon proved perfect for sugar production, with the French, the Dutch and the Portuguese all fighting to control the Paraíba region as a place to grow the lucrative sugarcane. The fortress of Santa Catarina, near João Pessoa, was built by the Portuguese to protect the city from the invading Dutch, who soon became the greatest threat to Portuguese supremacy in Portugal's Colonial Brazil. From 1634 through 1654, the city was held by the Dutch, who renamed it Frederikstadt, after their stadtholder Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange. They renamed it "Fort Margaretha after the mother of Count Johan Maurits of Nassau-Siegen, Governor of Dutch Brazil (or New Holland). The names Nossa Senhora das Neves and Santa Catarina were restored after the Portuguese reoccupation.


In 1817, the city was once again renamed Parahyba do Norte. After a visit to the city by Emperor Pedro II of Brazil in 1859, the city acquired the title of "Imperial City."
On July 26, 1930, during the Brazilian Revolution of 1930, the governor of Paraíba, João Pessoa, was assassinated in Recife by his political adversary, João Duarte Dantas. On September 4 of that same year, Parahyba's citizens voted to honor him by renaming the city "Joao Pessoa."

Pertinent Links

Some nice images of Joao Pessoa

Tourist video of the region around Joao Pessoa

Video with music of scenes of the Church in Brazil

Video of some views of Joao Pessoa

Music Video - The sun rises in the Americas first in Joao Pessoa

The McOmber's and Modern Colonialsim

The first Macombers in America were an integral part of the era called Modern Colonialism. “The age of modern colonialism began about 1500, following the European discoveries of a sea route around Africa's southern coast (1488) and of America (1492). With these events sea power shifted from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic and to the emerging nation-states of Portugal, Spain, the Dutch Republic, France, and England. By discovery, conquest, and settlement, these nations expanded and colonized throughout the world, spreading European institutions and culture” (Western Colonialism, 2010).

British, Portugues and Spanish America circa 1780

Colonial American MACOMBERs are primarily descended from three European peoples: Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian as explained in the paragraphs below. The modern distribution of European cultures and peoples depicted in the map presented below is a culmination of past geographic and cultural events. For example, the English culture depicted on the map below is the result of 1) Germanic people (see map) invading and inhabiting eastern portions of the British Isles starting in the A.D. 400s and pushing the Celtic people (see map) into western regions, 2) Scandinavian people (see map) invading eastern Britain starting in the A.D. 800s, and 3) the subsequent commingling of the Scandinavian, Germanic, and Celtic peoples and cultures.

Map of the Peoples of Europe circa 2000 A.D.

Western Europe collapsed into major disarray with the decline of the Roman Empire and the demise of a strong, central government (see end note 1 at bottom).  During the A.D. 300s, Roman legions vacated what was called Britain to defend other regions of the Roman Empire against various peoples. Subsequently, during the 400s and beyond, Angles, Saxons and Jutes, which were Germanic people from Europe, increasingly invaded the central, fertile valleys of Britain and pushed the native Britons, or Celts, into the less fertile hills of Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and the southwestern peninsula of Britain where remnants of Celtic languages and culture survive to this day (see the map below).



Remains of a Roman Road



The Celts tended to be shorter, darker, and have more rounded heads than the invading Germanic peoples who tended to be taller, blonde, and blue-eyed; though some Celts had red hair and ruddy complexions.

Later, during the 800s, a large number of Vikings from Scandinavia raided and settled in Britain, which contributed to Britain being divided into small kingdoms ruled by either Scandinavian tribal chiefs or local Anglo-Saxon leaders. Consequently, most commerce between the British Isles and other parts of the world ceased, and most people were forced to make a living from off the land rather than from former trades that were prevalent within the Roman Empire. Thus began a new era called the Dark Ages, the Middle Ages, or Medieval Times, which began with the fall of the Roman Empire sometime around A.D. 500 and continued until the mid-1400s.

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Western Colonialsim. (2010). In Encyclopædia Britannica. Retrieved April 10, 2010, from Encyclopædia Britannica Online: http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/126237/colonialism

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End Notes

1. By making this comment, I am not endorsing a political system with a strong central government like that of the Roman Empire. History demonstrates that strong central governments tend to transfer power and wealth from the general populace to a select few and inhibit individual freedoms, which in turn impedes innovation and stifles progress. History further confirms that the Roman Empire was better for Europeans than tribalism that followed, but not as good as a modern republic similar to the United States of America or the Federative Republic of Brazil.

Nik's First Car

Sample of a 1956 Ford Crown Victoria

An important part of the high school scene during the 60’s was cars, and Powell County High School in Deer Lodge, Montana was no exception. Much of high school life revolved around cars: attracting friends, showing off, dating, competing with rivals, going to the drive-in, noon trips to the A&W Car Hop, etc. Mom apparently understood this very well, and she wanted me to enjoy high school fully, probably because she had chosen to get married at the early age of 16 (not uncommon in 1928 Canada) and she didn’t have the opportunity to fully enjoy high school herself. As a result, without my prior knowledge, she bought me a 1956 Ford Crown Victoria with a red, white and chrome body similar to the one pictured above except for darker red in place of the lighter pink. Mom gave the car to me in the fall of 1967 during the early part of my freshman year. I was totally surprised and likely the happiest boy in school, and certainly one of the most spoiled.

Front door of main building of Powell County High School in Deer Lodge, Montana

The car cost $265, which I believe Mom paid in cash. When Mom gave me the car she said, among other things, “I paid $265 for this car, and that is a lot of money. You better take darn good care of this car! And you better not get into any trouble, Niki, or I am taking it away!” I enthusiastically agreed.

A Great Job

I don’t recall Mom or Dad ever buying me gas, oil, parts, or other items for the car; I paid for these things myself, for I had what I thought was the best job in all of Deer Lodge: I was the movie projectionist at the Rialto Theater on Main Street, which was the only theater in the county except for the drive-in theater just outside of Deer Lodge that was owned by the same Hansen family that owned the Rialto Theater. I was paid $1.25 per hour, or about $28.00 per week take-home, which relatively speaking was a lot of money when gas was only $0.29 per gallon, candy bars and bottles of pop were only a nickel or a dime, and movie theater tickets were only a quarter. For the car I recall buying over time new white wall tires, shiny chrome half-moon hubcaps, a four-barrel carburetor, fancy floor mats, and several cans of wax. It seemed that I also had enough money to buy a new shirt, pair of pants, or other article of clothing each week, and everything else I reasonably needed. On several occasions my best friend, Chuck, and I drove the Ford to Butte to shop because there were larger clothing stores with more “hip” selections in Butte.

The Rialto Theater in Deer Lodge

Rapping

When Mom bought me the car, it had straight pipes, which are exhaust pipes that run underneath the car’s carriage without the inclusion of a muffler to dampen sound. Apparently straight pipes improve performance, horsepower and gas mileage when sized properly for the engine, but that is not the main reason why teenagers like straight pipes; teenagers like straight pipes because they are loud, and in 1967 Montana, straight pipes were not illegal, at least not per se. It was illegal to disturb the peace or engage in excessive exhibitionism, however, and thus care and restraint was needed to keep from getting in trouble with the police.

I eventually became quite skilled at the technique of revving the engine to the ideal RPMs and then letting my foot off the gas to cause the pipes to “rap” for three or four seconds. Rapping was a way of whistling at girls or getting attention from peers, and I did it often, especially when girls were in the car saying “rap” every time they saw someone they knew in another car or on the sidewalk.

Main Street of Deer Lodge, Montana near Saint Mary's Avenue

Dragging Main Street

Cruising Main Street in Deer Lodge was a common ritual performed by valley teenagers, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Cruising often included rapping by those who had vehicles with straight pipes. The police gave considerable latitude to youngsters cruising Main Street, especially on Friday and Saturday nights, I suppose to entice the kids to come into town rather than going somewhere else in the 10 by 60 mile Deer Lodge Valley or adjacent hills where they might otherwise get drunk, fight, or engage in illicit sexual activities.

Main Street in Deer Lodge - looking north

I did not participate much in the ritual of dragging Main. On two occasions when I did participate, I was confronted at the turn-a-round at the south edge of town after several passes by older boys who challenged my right to be dragging Main. My car and the popularity of my friends were apparently a threat to their egos, status, and turf. I was not old and big enough to stand up to them directly, and the ritual of dragging Main seemed a bit stupid to me anyway. I was therefore not inclined to rally support from my brother Larry, older cousins, or bigger friends to secure my right to drag Main. Also, fortunately, and perhaps by divine providence, I had to work most evenings at the theater, and thus I had to limit my cruising and other socializing activities to early evening or late night, which was actually a blessing because it no doubt kept me out of a lot of trouble.

Deer Lodge Main Street near the south end turn-a-round

The Chief of Police

I did get into trouble on one occasion, however, when Johnny Wilson, the Chief of Police in Deer Lodge, came to my house one Saturday morning and told me to drive my car to his house, park it in his driveway, and leave him my keys. Apparently there had been some complaints about me rapping around town and near the Junior High School where my friend Chuck was attending. He said that he was going to keep my car for two weeks, and if I could convince him after two weeks that I would behave, he might let me have the car back.

It was a scary Saturday morning two weeks later when I knocked on Johnny Wilson’s door and presented to him my most convincing reasons why I should have the car back. I promised to get my driver’s license, obey all speed limits, not rap near schools or late at night, and not pick up any Junior High girls when I picked up Chuck. Johnny Wilson agreed, gave me a stern warning, and let me have the keys. I did as I promised, and never had any more trouble with law enforcement ...at least in Deer Lodge.

Driving Test

I had promised Johnny Wilson, the Chief of Police, that I would get my driver’s license as a condition of him letting me have my car back after he grounded me from it for two weeks. Because ranching and agriculture were significant industries in Montana in 1967, youth were allowed to drive vehicles for farmers and ranchers at age 14 and above without needing driver’s licenses, so the formality of having a driver’s license was not well established.  Youth were allowed to get a driver’s license, however, at age 15-1/2 under the proper circumstances. Thus, I took the driver’s exam when I was 15-1/2.

The day I took my road test was a cold, wintery day. The wind was blowing snow across the roads that were snow-packed and slippery. The examiner was an older gentleman who wore heavy boots and a large parka and toted a clip board with papers attached. He sat in the front passenger seat. Chuck accompanied us on the test. Chuck sat in the rear seat behind me. I don’t recall specifics of the road test except one: I ran a stop sign.

I was driving north on Fifth Street as I recall, and as I approached Missouri Avenue where there was a stop sign, I began to brake to slow down. However, as I braked I began to slide on the snow-packed and slippery road. The more I braked the more I slid, and after a couple of seconds I realized that I was going too fast to stop. I looked at the examiner; he was looking down and writing on his clip board; so I pretended that there was no stop sign and kept going. The examiner was smarter than I thought, however, because he spoke up while still writing on his clip board, “you know you are supposed to stop for stop signs, right”?

I said, “yes, but I didn’t know the road was so slippery there and when I started to slide I decided to keep going”.

As we continued the road test I was sure I had failed. At the end of the test the examiner elaborated on my driving, instructed me on how to properly approach stop signs in the snow, and said. “You passed”. I was surprised and elated. Chuck was likewise surprised, which was evident by his facial expression when our eyes met.  


Girls

Even though I had a car and my parents gave me a lot of freedoms (way too much freedom for most people my age to be sure), and none of my friends were LDS, I was still a fairly good Mormon Boy. I did drink beer on occasions, and participated in some minor mischief, but I refrained from engaging in many sins others my age fell into despite divers temptations that were all around. I also drove to selected spots and parked with girls in the car, but I refrained from going all the way with any girl even though the offer was extended to me several times. I gave heed to my conscious, which was strong for the most part. As I look back, I can see that there was a divine hand acting over me.

Chuck and I were friends from the First Grade. We both failed the First Grade and repeated it together. Mom, Dad and I had moved to California for part of my First Grade school year, and when we returned to Deer Lodge I was not prepared for the more advanced Deer Lodge curriculum. Chuck had a similar First Grade year. Thus, Chuck and I were among the older kids in our school classes growing up. Also, Chuck failed the Seventh Grade when I was in Reno, Nevada, and thus attended the Eighth Grade at the Junior High School when I attended the Ninth Grade at the High School. While at the High School I spent most of my spare time with Rick Buhl.

Chuck was the quarterback on the Junior High School football team, which competed with schools in the nearby counties and was doing very well. Almost every day I drove from the High School to the Junior High School to pick up Chuck after school or after football practice. We attended almost all of the football games, and because we were older and I had a fancy car and Chuck was the quarterback, we were an attraction for many of the Junior High girls. However, our friends and the girls we liked were in High School, and we never socialized with any of the Junior High girls outside of the football games.

On one occasion Chuck and I were on a date with two girls. We went up near Beck Hill to park and drink beer. After being parked for a while, it was getting late and we needed to get the girls back home. However, when we tried to leave, we discovered that the car was stuck in the snow. We tried for about an hour to get the car unstuck, but to no avail. Because we needed to get the girls back home before their parents woke up and discovered them gone, it was decided that Chuck would go with the girls across the deep-snow-covered-field to the highway and either walk back to town on the road or hitch a ride. I was to stay with the car. Chuck said he would get someone to pull us out of the snow bank after sunrise. I thus fell asleep in the car after watching Chuck and the girls fade out of sight as they trekked toward the highway through the snow.

As dawn approached, I was awakened by a rancher in a pickup who came by and stopped where I was stuck. The rancher asked me a lot of questions. I truthfully answered him and explained what had happened, which was evident by the footprints in the snow and the beer cans strewn about the car. After being satisfied with my responses, and seeing that they were true, and knowing my family, the rancher told me that if I picked up the beer cans he would pull me out. He did so and I drove back to town and met up with Chuck. Chuck advised that the girls had gotten home safely and before their parents had discovered them gone.

On another occasion I was parked with a girl on a hill overlooking the Deer Lodge Valley. I had left the car for a moment -I think I took a leak- and upon returning I found that the girl had completely undone her top, removed her bottoms, and was laying spread eagle on the front seat of my car waiting for me. Upon walking up to the open door of the car and seeing her, I turned away quickly and said "I’m not doing that so please get dressed”!

I waited alongside the car for the girl to get dressed. We then talked for a bit and I drove her back into town. She told me that she never met a boy like me before. She said that she felt ashamed and thanked me for being a gentleman and showing her that there were good guys in the world. She said she hoped to marry a guy like me someday.

On another occasion Chuck and I were on dates with two girls and we drove east out of town a little ways to park along the road to Emery Mine. The girl I was with wanted to go for a walk into the nearby field. Once we had walked out of view from the car, to my surprise the girl wanted to go all the way with me. I started to succumb to her advances at first, but stopped myself and refused to continue. She began to cry and say words to the effect, "what is wrong with me? Aren't I pretty? Don't you like me?"

I tried to verbally convince her that it was my conscious and that it didn’t feel right, but I was not schooled in or in-tune with the Spirit enough to be effective in expressing gospel truths to her. I finally proved to her that there was nothing wrong with her by letting her feel the affect she had on me. That seemed to be proof enough and she felt better about herself and her girly powers. In the weeks that followed, however, she tried to coax me into bed with her on several occasions. I refused and never succumbed to the temptation to do so, but we did make out in the car a few times while parked in town and at the drive-in.

Dating High School girls had other challenges. There was a sophomore or junior who had a classic 1957 Chevy; I believe his name was Chris. Chris and I shared a love for our cars, but we were rivals with the girls. Chris liked a sophomore or junior girl named Sheryl. Sheryl's best friend was Linda, and Linda had a crush on my friend Rick. Rick was likely the cutest boy in High School. When Linda and Sheryl began to run with Rick and me, and spend a lot of time in my car after school, Chris decided to take action and stop me from letting Sheryl ride in my car. He rallied some friends, some of which were seniors, and set out one Saturday to do his dirty deed.

As usual, I had picked up Chuck and Rick one wintery Saturday morning. As we were leaving Rick's house, about eight guys in four vehicles tried to force us to the side of the road. One of the vehicles was Chris's 57 Chevy, and another was a classic black Ford pickup. I don’t remember the others.

For what seemed like an hour, but was probably only about 20 minutes, we raced around town trying to get away from the chasing horde. We had no idea why they were after us, but it was apparent that they meant to fight us as they yelled out orders for me to stop and made threatening promises about what they were going to do to us. While I was focusing on driving, Chuck and Rick were trying to identify who the guys were in the other vehicles. As Rick and Chuck were naming names, they were also saying things like "he's a senior" and "he's a linebacker" and "he's big and strong". It was clear that we were out-numbered and out-sized, and that getting caught was not going to be a pleasant event. At one point I thought to head out of town and out run them on the highway, but Chuck yelled, "No, stay in town so someone will see what is happening and call the police".

As we raced around town, one or two vehicles would succeed in getting in front of us, but in each case I was able to turn a corner to get free so they could not box us in. Finally, we were heading east on Maryland Avenue -as I recall- towards the football field at Cottonwood Park when Rick blurted out and pointed "turn there"!

Without thinking I turned onto a side road that passed through a vacant field on the right side of the street. Because it was winter, the road through the field was snow-packed and slippery. We were making slow progress along the road because my tires would spin if I tried to go fast.  Midway through the field I realized we had made a mistake turning onto that road. Two of the cars had followed us onto the road and were behind us, but two had raced ahead of us on the snow-plowed Maryland Avenue and had entered the side road from the other end. We were trapped.

I came to a very reluctant stop in the middle of the field when there was finally nowhere else to go; there were two cars blocking the road forward, two behind, and impenetrable snow on either side.

As the horde began to exit their vehicles, Rick shouted "lock the doors", which we all did at once.

But then I thought that the approaching horde would simply break the windows and we were still going to get creamed.  I also did not want to be known as a coward, which was a powerful feeling that came over me, so I unlocked my door. Chuck was behind me and saw what I had done and yelled "Nik, lock your door!"

I said "no, they are just going to break the windows, and I do not want to get a reputation of being a chicken". Chuck reached forward and locked my door. After finger-wrestling Chuck for the door lock for a few seconds, I simply left the door locked as Chuck insisted, but rolled down the window instead. We were now surrounded by the horde.

A big senior who I believe was named Dave came to my door and asked “Are you Nik McOmber”?

"Yes, what's the problem?” I awkwardly replied.

"You think you're really cool, don't you, driving around town in your fancy car and picking up girls?" retorted Dave

"No" I said sheepishly.

"Do you want to fight?" asked Dave.

I quickly and clearly said "No".

Dave then ordered, "Get out of the car"!

Again, I did not want to be known as a coward, so I complied and exited the car. I had no other reason to exit the car. I had a small glimmer of hope that God would protect me when I thought about part of the 23rd Psalm that I had memorized as a young boy: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me". I prayed fervently to myself that God would be with me.

As I stood up Dave pointed to the other side of the car and said "let's go over there". I had stopped the car near a small rise where the snow was deep on the driver side of my car. We walked to the other side of the car where the snow was not as deep.

The entire horde was now on the passenger side of my car. I was alone with all of them; Rick and Chuck were still in the car watching intently. No one seemed interested in Rick or Chuck, only in me. I was still confused as to what was going on, and I figured I would soon be knocked out and would wake up in the hospital. I had been knocked out before and had forgotten several weeks of my life. I thought of that experience while being surrounded by the horde and was trying to remember the current moment so as not to forget what was about to happen. Then Chris began to speak to me and I gradually realized that this was about Chris being angry that Sheryl was riding in my car. I do not recall all that was said, but Rick and Chuck finally came out of the car and were standing and talking with the others that were standing around Chris, Dave and me who were in the center of the crowd.

At one point Dave faced off with me and ordered me to hit him. I refused and said, "No, I am not stupid, you'll cream me".

 I suppose it was a form of honor for a senior not to hit a freshman first, so for the moment I was safe. Then Dave, after taunting me to hit him and apparently resigning to the fact that I was not going to hit him first, said, “Eat snow then” and forced me with his weight down on all fours. While I was down on all fours Dave pushed on the back of my neck with his hand, then with his knee, trying to force my face into the snow.

I was succeeding in keeping my face from touching the snow, but was about to be overpowered when one of the guys from the horde who had been talking with Chuck and Rick said, "Hey Dave, this kid’s brother is Larry McOmber".

Dave let loose of my neck and asked demandingly, "Is Larry McOmber your brother"?

I said, 'Yes".

From the horde someone said, "and Larry is still in town Dave", at which Dave took hold of my arm and helped me up.

"I didn't know Larry was your brother" said Dave. "I don't want any trouble from Larry”! Are you and I square"?

I happily exclaimed, "Yes, we're square! Thanks for not creaming me"!

Dave said, “I don’t want Larry coming after me”!

I said, “If you guys leave me alone, I’m sure he won’t”!

A few more words were exchanged that I do not recall, and the horde drove away. Chuck, Rick and I remained in the car for a while talking about our ordeal. We never had any more trouble with Chris or his friends, and yet Linda and Sheryl continued to hang around with us in the weeks that followed. I, however, was not as cocky as I had been before.

There were a lot of McOmber's in Powell County, and among them was my brother, Larry, who had a reputation of being a real tough guy, and he had just lived up to that reputation a few days earlier. But that is another story.

Nik's Earliest, Meaningful Memories

I apparently had grown into being a little imp during my earliest years. My sister, Barbara, who babysat me on numerous occasions until she married Burton when I was four-and-a-half years old, told me that I was a very difficult child to tend. Various stories seem to support the idea that I had become a somewhat mischievous child until I was older.

Well, I’ll Show You!

My earliest memory of note, supplemented by the memory of others, involves a time one summer in 1954 when I was three-and-a-half years old playing outside in the yard of the house where we were living at the time. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I walked up to the screen door and opened it, and immediately Mom yelled the words, “Don’t come in, I’m mopping the floor”!

I responded, “But I have to go to the bathroom”!

“You’ll have to wait ‘til the floor dries” Mom retorted!

“I can’t” yelled I!

“You have to wait” Mom insisted!

“I’ll just go in the yard then” I declared.

“Niki, don’t you go in that yard; if you go in the yard you are going to be in real trouble” warned Mom!

A few minutes later Mom came outside where I was playing and said, “Niki, you can use the bathroom now”.

“I don’t have to go anymore” said I.

“Did you go to the bathroom in the yard?” asked Mom with anticipated consequence in her voice.

“No” I triumphantly announced, “I went in the neighbor’s yard”!

Raised as an Only Child

*** Barbara and Burton’s marriage pending elaboration***

A Great Summer Schoolyard

In the summer of 1956 when I was five years old Dad had contracted to build a new ranch house for a rancher outside of Deer Lodge. Dad had solicited the help of Burton. Barbara, who was pregnant with Kimera, accompanied Burton to cook and take care of domestic chores for the men working on the house. I came along to play and be tended to, mostly by Barbara, while Mom continued working in Deer Lodge (as far as I recall). While at the ranch Dad and I slept in Dad’s camper, which was parked alongside the main dirt road in front of the bunk house. The bunk house was about 50 feet from the dirt road next to the building site where the ranch house was being built. Barbara and Burton stayed in the bunk house, which was a rather rustic wooden structure with a kitchen and large dining area. The bunk house also had a bathroom with indoor plumbing. About a hundred feet away from the bunk house on the opposite side from the building site was an old, weather-worn outhouse that sat on top of a little hill about 30 feet from the dirt road.

During the weeks I spent on the ranch, several meaningful and memorable events occurred, which are presented in the following stories.

Well, I’ll Show You Too!

On a particularly hot day on the ranch I was playing outside when I had to go to the bathroom. I opened the door to the bunk house to use the indoor bathroom and immediately Barbara yelled, “Don’t come in, I’m mopping the floor”!

“But I have to go to the bathroom”, I announced.

“You’ll have to use the outhouse”, Barbara ordered!

“But it stinks and there are flies in the outhouse”, I declared!

“You’ll have to wait until the floor dries or use the outhouse”, Barbara insisted!

After further exchanges it became apparent that Barbara was not going to let me in, so I slammed the bunk house door and turned to go to the outhouse. As I turned, however, the padlock on the bunk house door caught my eye and I got a stroke of vindictive genius: I locked the bunk house door using the padlock that was hanging from the clasp. I then walked to the outhouse feeling somewhat vindicated for being relegated to the outhouse by Barbara.

While I sat in the outhouse trying to smack flies and do my business, I heard Barbara scream. She had finished mopping the floor and tried to exit the bunk house, but after realizing she was locked in and failing to get someone's attention, she screamed very loudly so Burton or Dad would hear her from the job site and come let her out.

After hearing Barbara scream I peered through a crack in the outhouse door to watch what was happening at the job site and bunk house. I had a perfect view of the area from the spot where the outhouse sat. Dad and Burton, upon hearing Barbara scream, had dropped what they were doing and were running from the job site to the bunk house in a panic. They apparently thought Barbara was injured or having her baby. Dad and Burton fumbled for a minute with the padlock on the bunk house door as Barbara blared from the other side of the door that she could not get out. Dad advised that the door was locked from the outside with the padlock. Barbara angrily proclaimed “Niki must have locked me in because I wouldn’t let him use the bathroom”. At that, to my surprise and relief, Dad and Burton laughed as they tended to Barbara and walked back to the job site.

I have a vivid memory of staying in the outhouse for quite a while until I felt it safe to exit, deciding that the flies and smell were better than going out before Barbara had time to cool down.

The summer on the ranch with Dad, Barbara and Burton imbued me with several memorable experiences, one of which marked me for life.

Marked for Life

The ranch was a fully functional cattle ranch, and farther down the dirt road about 100 yards from the building site and bunk house was a large barn surrounded by corrals and lots of cows and calves. Cowboys spent much of the day in and around the barn, and often visited the bunk house, outhouse, and building site.

On another hot day I found myself inside the barn. There were lots of calves and nursing cows in the barn, as well as several cowboys. One of the lead cowboys asked me, “Have you ever ridden a calf before?”

“No”, said I.

“Do you want to ride a calf?” asked the cowboy.

“Sure!” said I.

At that, the cowboys picked out a calf and gathered around a large open area at the front of the barn. The calf was fitted with a rope around its snout for me to hold onto. The lead cowboy handed me the end of the rope and instructed me on how to hold it. I was then picked up and set on top of the calf. Immediately the calf began to buck, and I apparently did well as the cowboys cheered and clapped when the ride was over.

“Do you want to ride again?” asked the lead cowboy.

“Sure’ said I and the spectacle was repeated.

I do not recall how many rides I was given, but after the fun was over I received several compliments and pats on the back by the group of cowboys. One of the cowboys said, “You’ll make a great cowboy someday”, which echoed in my mind for a long time.

While I was milling around the barn one of the cowboys opened a can of snuff and placed some into his mouth.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Snuff” said the cowboy, “have you ever had snuff before?”

“No” said I.

“Do you want some?” asked the cowboy.

“Sure” said I, at which the cowboy put the can of snuff in front of me and said, “have some!”

I took a pinch of snuff and put it into my mouth and began to chew. It only took a second or two for the effect to hit my system; I felt a strange surge pass through my jowels and upper body. I quickly spit out the remaining chew, which brought a round of laughter from the cowboys who were nearby watching me.

I became nausceous and was feeling very sick, so I walked to the bunk house for refuge. Dad became aware that I was sick; I was apparently quite pale and clammy, in addition to feeling nauseous. Somehow it came out that I was given some snuff, at which Dad said “what, you were given some snuff”? “Who gave you snuff” Dad demanded.

“The cowboys at the barn” said I.

Dad immediately hurried off towards the barn. He returned a while later and advised that no one would be giving me snuff again.

It would not have mattered if any of the cowboys had offered me snuff again; I would not have taken it. In the years that followed I had the occasion to smell snuff on many occasions, and every time the smell was repulsive. I never tasted snuff again, and doubt that I could have endured chewing it even if I wanted to; I was marked for life.

There is Always Time for Fishing

Another significant memory I have from the summer of 1956 while on the ranch involved fishing. Dad was an avid fisherman; he owned about a dozen fishing poles and several pieces of fishing gear, including a modified, well-worn fishing basket with two leather straps: one for the shoulder and one for the waist; a metal bait box that attaches to a waist belt; a hat with multiple hooks and flies embedded into it; a pair of chest-high wading boots; several tackle boxes; his favorite fishing knife and fishing pliers, etc. Dad rarely went anywhere without some of his fishing gear, especially when we were in Montana. We would often stop along a roadside to spend a few minutes fishing when in route to any destination. Dad also loved to get up at 4:00 AM on holiday mornings to get an early start on a day of fishing. It is no wonder that he thought I would love fishing as he did and took time one day to equip me for a day of fishing while on the ranch.

About 80 yards down the main dirt road near the barn was a creek that ran under a wooden bridge. From the bridge it was possible to see trout swimming in the stream below.

Dad rigged me up with his bait box filled with worms we had just dug up, the fish basket, and a small pole. Dad took me to the bridge and instructed me on how to bait the hook, hold the pole, yank on the pole when a fish nibbled on a worm, how to stay back from the edge of the bridge, etc. Dad then told me to bring any fish I caught to him and he would prepare them for dinner. He then left me alone so I could enjoy his favorite pastime.

I do not know how long I fished at the bridge; I only remember seeing several fish swim under the bridge without taking the bait except one. I was about at the end of my patience seeing the fish but not catching any when suddenly I felt a tug on the pole. I yanked on the pole as instructed, and out of the water flew a very squiggly fish. I pulled it up onto the bridge and attempted to grab it, but the fish was so slimy and squiggly that it scared me. I was so excited that I wanted to show Dad, but I dared not put the fish in the basket. So I did the next best thing and left the fish on the pole and ran down the road repeatedly yelling “Daddy, Daddy, I caught a fish, I caught a fish!” The fish bounced repeatedly along the dirt road as I ran dragging it behind me.

From the job site Dad saw me running down the road dragging the fish and yelling to him. He left the job site and met me on the road and joined in my excitement. He removed the fish from the hook and pole, and made me feel proud despite having drug the fish 80 yards in the dirt; it was the first time I caught a fish, and I believe it was as big a moment for Dad as it was for me.

Lessons I Have Gleaned from the Stories in this Chapter

• This mortal world is full of both good and evil, sickness and health, joy and sorrow, and to experience one opens the door to understand the other.

• We can repent and change; we are not destined to remain the same; we can put off "the natural man" and become a new creature in Christ.

• And in that day Adam blessed God and was filled, and began to prophesy concerning all the families of the earth, saying: Blessed be the name of God, for because of my transgression my eyes are opened, and in this life I shall have joy, and again in the flesh I shall see God. And Eve, his wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.(Moses 5: 10-11)

• And the Lord spake unto Adam, saying: Inasmuch as thy children are conceived in sin, even so when they begin to grow up, sin conceiveth in their hearts, and they taste the bitter, that they may know to prize the good. And it is given unto them to know good from evil; wherefore they are agents unto themselves, and I have given unto you another law and commandment. Wherefore teach it unto your children, that all men, everywhere, must repent, or they can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God, for no unclean thing can dwell there, or dwell in his presence; for, in the language of Adam, Man of Holiness is his name, and the name of his Only Begotten is the Son of Man, even Jesus Christ, a righteous Judge, who shall come in the meridian of time. Therefore I give unto you a commandment, to teach these things freely unto your children, saying: That by reason of transgression cometh the fall, which fall bringeth death, and inasmuch as ye were born into the world by water, and blood, and the spirit, which I have made, and so became of dust a living soul, even so ye must be born again into the kingdom of heaven, of water, and of the Spirit, and be cleansed by blood, even the blood of mine Only Begotten; that ye might be sanctified from all sin, and enjoy the words of eternal life in this world, and eternal life in the world to come, even immortal glory; For by the water ye keep the commandment; by the Spirit ye are justified, and by the blood ye are sanctified; Therefore it is given to abide in you; the record of heaven; the Comforter; the peaceable things of immortal glory; the truth of all things; that which quickeneth all things, which maketh alive all things; that which knoweth all things, and hath all power according to wisdom, mercy, truth, justice, and judgment. (Moses 6: 55-61)• For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father. (Mosiah 3:19)

The First McOmber's In America

[Excerpts from chapter 1 of Volume 2.01-Colonial Ancestry in America of Bygone Days of the Ancestry, Life and Times of Niki Harrison McOmber and his Descendants.]

The first MACOMBERS of record in America are two brothers, William and John.

William and John are born and raised in England. They immigrate to America in 1638.

Their parents, John Macomber and Edith Locke, are Scots

Boarding ship in England in preparation for the long voyage to America

The thirteen English colonies that declared their independence from Great Britain on the Fourth of July 1776 were established by optimistic individuals seeking a new way of life in a wilderness where their notions of freedom, religion, opportunity, and self-reliance could be exercised. From these beginnings sprang one of the greatest nations of all time, and the MACOMBERS have been an integral part of it from the earliest generation to the latest.

Note: this work uses the convention of typing MACOMBER with capital letters to represent the same ancestral family line despite various spelling variations that have evolved from one generation to the next. See Appendix A –Macomber Spelling Variations– for further details.

The First MACOMBERS in America

The first MACOMBERS of definite record in America are two brothers, William and John. Both William and John first appear in colonial records in America in 1638, which is less than 18 years after the landing of the Mayflower and more than 138 years before the Declaration of Independence. Other MACOMBERS subsequently appear in colonial records, but as shall be shown in this work, all of these early colonial MACOMBERS are descendants of either William or John. In addition, as shall be shown in this work, the vast majority of MACOMBERS in America are descended from these early colonial MACOMBERS.

In the following chapters, we will elaborate on the records of William and John and their descendants in the colonies of America, but first let us present a few introductory particulars.

The English Childhood of William and John

William and John Macomber were born in or around Bridport, Dorset, England. There is a church in Bridport called Saint Mary’s that was built in stages starting sometime before the year 1263. Parish records indicate that William was christened at Saint Mary’s on Lady’s Day , 25 Mar 1610, and John was christened at Saint Mary’s on 26 Oct 1613. It was customary at the time in the Church of England to christen children as soon as possible after birth; furthermore, there were churches in all major towns in England at this time; thus, it is likely that William and John were born only a couple of days before their christenings in or around the town of Bridport.

The records of Saint Mary’s also show that the parents of William and John were John Macomber and Edith Locke, who were married in the church of Saint Mary’s in Bridport on 8 Jun 1607.

The town of Bridport grew up centered on the rope industry during the Middle Ages as evidenced by the following excerpt, “following King John’s request that the townsfolk make ‘night and day as many ropes for ships both large and small and as many cables as you can’. Hemp and flax were grown locally, and the ropes were originally laid out in long rope walks extending from the back of houses.”

William and John obviously grew up in and around Bridport because their parents and other siblings appear in the records of Saint Mary’s throughout William and John’s early years as evidenced in the tables presented hereafter.

Exhibit 4: Front View of Saint Mary’s Church

Exhibit 5: Left Side View of Saint Mary’s Church

Exhibit 6: Inside View of Saint Mary’s Church

Exhibit 7: Rear View of Saint Mary’s Church

Exhibit 8: Rear Entrance View of Saint Mary’s Church

Exhibit 9: Tower View of Saint Mary’s Church

To understand the dates presented in the following tables and elsewhere in Bygone Days prior to 1752, it is helpful to understand the differences between the Old Style (or Julian) calendar and the New Style (or Gregorian) calendar systems.

Parts of Europe adopted the New Style or Gregorian calendar in 1592; however, England, Scotland and the English colonies in America did not adopt the New Style until 160 years later in 1752. The New Style corrected a flaw in the Old Style that consisted of miscalculated leap years that caused the Old Style Julian calendar to lag the solar year by several days.

When a country switched to the New Style calendar system, several days were omitted to bring the calendar in sync with the current solar year; the number of days omitted depended on when the transition from the old to the new style occurred. In 1592, ten days were omitted, and in 1752, eleven days were omitted. Also, in the new system, a new year started on January 1, but in the old system, a new year started on March 25, which was Lady’s Day (exactly nine months before December 25, or the day celebrated as the immaculate conception). Thus, January 16, 1633 in the Old Style would be January 6 1634 in the New Style. Because parts of Europe adopted the New Style calendar system in 1592, but England did not until 1752, from 1592 to 1752 English dates between January 1 and March 25 were often written with the Old Style Julian calendar date, but with both the Julian and Gregorian calendar years separated by a slash, (for example, January 16, 1633/4). Dates after March 25 would be the same year in either the old or the new systems. In the records of Saint Mary’s during the 1600’s, events between January 1 and March 25 were often written using the Julian date and both the Julian and Gregorian years separated by a slash.

Be aware that some authors, unaware of the irregular, country-by-country transition from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar systems and associated dating abnormalities, often miscalculate dates in their historical chronologies of Old and New World events between 1592 and 1752, which is subsequently carried forward into various genealogical records.

Table 1
Macomber Marriages at Saint Mary’s Church
Names of Husband and Wife and Date of Marriage

John Macomber
Edith Lock                  8 Jun 1607

William Holway
Alice Macomber         14 Jul 1617

William Macomber
Ursula Thomas           16 Jan 1633/4

Table 2
Children of John and Edith Macomber Christened at Saint Mary’s
Name of Person Christened and Date of Christening

Thomas Macomber 12 Sep 1608
William Macomber 25 Mar 1610
Zephorah Macomber 1 Nov 1611
John Macomber 26 Oct 1613
Alice Macomber 23 Nov 1615
Edmond Macomber 24 Aug 1617
Richard Macomber 3 Dec 1619
Marie Macomber 12 Oct 1621
Thomas Macomber 14 Sep 1623
Edith Macomber 27 Dec 1625
Robert Macomber 2 Dec 1627

Table 3
Children of John and Edith Macomber Buried at Saint Mary’s
Name and Age of Person Buried and Date of Burial

Zephorah Macomber (5) 19 Jun 1617
Thomas Macomber (13) 13 Jan 1622/23
Thomas Macomber (4) 21 Mar 1627/28
Robert Macomber (4 months) 5 Apr 1628
Marie Macomber (10) 24 Jul 1632


It was customary in Europe during the 1600’s for parents to honor a deceased child by giving the deceased child’s name to the next child born. A close examination of the previous tables shows that John and Edith’s first son, Thomas, was buried on 13 Jan 1622/23 at the age of 13 (see Table 3), and the next male child born to John and Edith eight months later was christened Thomas on 14 Sep 1623 in honor of the first Thomas (see Table 2). This second Thomas born to John and Edith died at age three (see Table 3).

The MACOMBERS in England are Scots

The marriage of John Macomber and Edith Locke in 1607 is the first recording of MACOMBERS in Bridport, Dorset, England. This is to be expected since, as the surname indicates, the MACOMBERS are Scots, and generally, Scots did not reside in England prior to this time. During the late 1500’s and early 1600’s, however, Scots, including MACOMBERS, began to settle in England in a notable way because of a general feeling of goodwill between England and Scotland, and because of the influence of several individuals, including King James I, who was a Scot who inherited both the English and Scottish thrones in 1603. Several MACOMBER households appear in parish records in Dorset (or Dorset shire) and surrounding counties (or shires) during the late 1500’s and early 1600’s.

On 6 Jan 1633/4, 22-year-old William Macomber married Ursula Cooper at Saint Mary’s in Bridport (see Table 1). William and Ursula subsequently had a son they named Thomas who was christened at Saint Mary’s on 28 Feb 1635/6. As stated previously, William’s parents, John and Edith, had two sons named Thomas that died prior to the birth of William and Ursula’s son named Thomas (see tables 2 and 3). It appears that William and Ursula honored the deceased brothers of William by naming their first son Thomas. Note also that after the first Thomas died, William became the oldest living son of John and Edith, and since John and Edith had no more children after the second Thomas died, it would be appropriate for William and Ursula to honor William’s parents and deceased brothers by naming their first son Thomas.

Just 2-½ months after William and Ursula’s son, Thomas, is born, William’s mother, Edith, dies. Edith’s body was buried in the cemetery of Saint Mary’s on 10 May 1636.

Then, in 1638, within two years of the death of Edith, William Macomber (and subsequently Ursula and Thomas) are listed as being in Plymouth Colony in America. Also in 1638, William’s brother, John Macomber, is listed as being one of 43 males who settled on the island of Aguidneck (later called Rhode Island) about 40 miles southwest of Plymouth.

In the following chapters we will elaborate on the records of William and John and their descendants in the colonies of America, but first let us present in chapters two and three a panoramic view of major events that set the stage for William, Ursula, Thomas, and John leaving England for a new life in America.

Nik's Life is Spared

Owen and Maxine in Deer Lodge circa 1950

Whether my mom or I were to live or die was a dire decision my Mom and Dad were abruptly confronted with in the summer of 1951. On several occasions they recounted to me the following story.

While in Deer Lodge during the summer of 1951, at the age of 38, my mother, Maxine, became ill; she was weak and nauseous, and was unable to carry out her day-to-day tasks as well as she wanted. As a consequence, Mom went to see one of the local doctors in Deer Lodge, and after a series of tests the doctor advised Mom that she was suffering from pseudocyesis, otherwise known as a false pregnancy, and that there was a tumor in her womb that needed to be removed as soon as possible. Mom and Dad believed the doctor’s diagnosis, and they proceeded to follow the doctor’s orders to have the tumor removed by making an appointment for the intended operation at Saint Joseph’s Hospital in Deer Lodge.

Saint Joseph Hospital in Deer Lodge, Montana circa 2000

Saint Joseph’s Hospital is an old, Catholic hospital located near the center of Deer Lodge. The main 68-bed hospital was built in 1882 to supplement the previous two medical edifices constructed in the mid 1800’s. In 1951, Saint Joseph’s Hospital was an important institution in and around Deer Lodge. The hospital was staffed by the Sisters of Charity, an order that consisted of staunch Catholic Nuns.

To everyone’s surprise, while the medical staff was conducting a series of tests at Saint Joseph’s Hospital in preparation for the operation to remove the pseudocyesis tumor, it was discovered that Mom was actually pregnant with me. The doctors tending to Mom, however, did not believe that Mom was capable of safely giving birth, and that both Mom and I would not survive a future delivery. The tending doctors advised that an abortion should be conducted right then in place of the scheduled operation to remove the tumor, and that to wait for another occasion to have an abortion would only make it more dangerous for Mom. However, the tending nurses, who were staunch Catholic Nuns, refused to have anything to do with an abortion or allow such in the hospital. In the minutes that followed, Mom and Dad, aided by the encouragement of the Sisters of Charity, opted to not abort the fetus, but to take the risk and allow the pregnancy to progress to full term. This they did, and several months later I was safely born on 9 Dec 1951 in the Holiday Park Hospital in Portland, Multnomah, Oregon, where Mom and Dad went to get competent medical attention.

A Place of Refuge

I asked Mom and Dad why I was born in Portland, and they told me that Mom was sick when she was pregnant with me, and there was a concern that neither Mom nor I would survive my birth. They therefore selected the Holiday Park Hospital in Portland because it was a better hospital than the hospital in Deer Lodge. Mom also had a brother, Edwin, who lived in Salem a few miles south of Portland in 1951, which, no doubt, helped them select the City of Portland for the place of my birth.

With the aid of an experienced doctor and staff, I was born in the Holiday Park Hospital in Portland on ***, 9 December 1951, at *** hours. I was apparently *** inches long and weighed *** (Holiday Park Hospital, 1951).

Fears are Finally Put to Rest

When speaking of my birth both Mom and Dad recited several times the following story.

Because of the dire concern expressed by the doctors in Deer Lodge about Mom’s pregnancy and my pending birth, both Mom and Dad were greatly relieved when Mom and I were doing well after my birth. Dad said he cried in gratitude that Mom and I were healthy. The joy would soon be cut short, however, because of an event that occurred after Mom and Dad and I left the hospital and were driving to Salem where Mom’s brother Irvin lived. Mom and Dad had a black 1940** Ford sedan, and like all vehicles of their day, there were shortcomings in the sedan’s design, one of which was a passenger compartment that was quite exposed to the outside air.

It was a cold December morning when Dad and Mom placed me on the back seat of the Ford and headed for Salem; I was fast asleep. After a few minutes of driving in route to Salem, Dad and Mom smelled exhaust fumes accumulating within the Ford’s passenger compartment. At first they were not particularly concerned, but after a while the fumes became unpleasant and Mom became concerned that the fumes were not healthy for me. Mom picked me up and tried to awaken me, but I was apparently unconscious from the fumes and they could not revive me. Fear and alarm took hold of both Mom and Dad –their new baby might die after all.

Mom and Dad quickly opened the windows and Dad turned the car around to go back to the hospital. The cold winter air penetrated the car in place of the exhaust fumes as Dad sped down the road. Tears welled up in Mom and Dad’s eyes as they contemplated the situation.

Upon arriving at the hospital Mom and Dad rushed in with me in Mom’s arms. They roused the hospital staff and I was tended to and readmitted into the hospital. In the hospital I was given oxygen and aroused using smelling salts. Apparently there were no ill side effects from the ordeal, and I was once again released from the hospital. We then drove to Salem with me on Mom’s lap so she could keep me awake and with the windows open to allow for fresh air.

Although the medical diagnosis was there were no lasting effects from the exhaust fumes, I often wondered –because of a well-earned skepticism for the opinions of so-called experts– if I had actually been adversely affected by the fumes. The issue affected my self-esteem on many occasions, especially during my teen years before I recognized my ability to excel when I endeavored to do so.

Lessons I Have Gleaned from the Stories in this Chapter

• The truth is not always apparent, and sometimes is hard to come by in this mortal sojourn.


• There is great benefit to knowing the truth, and potential dire consequences for ignorance.


• The learned are often not as smart as they think they are, or as smart as they hope others think they are.


• Doing what is right often requires faith and hope in a supernatural power to deliver us from the natural laws of this fallen world.


• Faith in the teachings of Jesus Christ is not limited to just members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.


• The gospel of Jesus Christ inspires charity as evidenced by the Catholic “Sisters of Charity” serving in Deer Lodge, Montana.


• There can be great benefit in associating with people who have faith in the teachings of Jesus Christ.


• When the need arises, we can often turn to others for appropriate assistance.

A New Beginning

Well, due to recent events, it's time to create a blog, so here goes.

A simple cell phone picture of Nik taken on

Sunday, September 5, 2010 to get things started

Nik ready for a short ride, not sure what caught his ex-cop eye

Link to Women Riders Now review of the V-Star 1300 motorcycle,

but without the extras on Nik's cruiser model

click here

Link to Motorcycle USA test drive of the V-Star 1300

click here