Three Days Before My 18th Birthday

March 10, 1967. It was my Dad's first day back to work as a diesel shovel mechanic. He had spent most of the previous year working in Australia for more money than we'd ever seen before. He had made so much money he couldn't afford to work without it all going to taxes so he didn't. It was a Friday and we were going to Pocatello that evening for a neighbor girl's wedding. I was a Senior at Snake River High School, some 30 miles from Atomic City where we lived. I was sitting in our living room watching for the school bus to go by a block away so I could catch it when it came back around in front of our house. The next thing I knew, it had gone by us and I had missed it. My Mom was not to pleased because that meant I'd have to drive to school, but there was no other choice since she had never driven a car in her life. I went to school but felt quite blah around 1:00 so I decided to ditch the rest of school and go pick up my girlfriend from her school. I was on my way there when I found myself 30 miles away and about a mile from my home. Weird, I thought, but figured I must have been daydreaming or something. I went in the house and my Mom said she was so glad to see me because she had had a bad feeling all afternoon and thought that I'd been in a car wreck. I told her she was looney and I was just fine. Less than 15 minutes later two men drove up to the house and asked to come in. Then they told us to sit down because they had bad news. My Dad had died of a massive heart attack at work around 1:00. My Mother would have been all alone if I hadn't felt "blah" and then come home instead going to see my girlfriend. My sister, Bonnie, was a Freshman at Idaho State university in Pocatello and we were supposed to pick her up for the wedding. We didn't want to tell her over the phone so we decided to tell her when we got to her apartment. When we got there we asked her how she was doing and she said she was fine except that she started feeling bad around 1:00 and ditched her afternoon classes to go home. Then she asked where Dad was... Dad was 57 years old when he died. He had smoked unfiltered Camel cigarettes since he was 15 and drank more than his share of beer. He drank EVERY day. He seldom was drunk but he drank beer every day. One of the best things I have ever done was to go to the temple the following May and be proxy for his endowment and sealing to my Mother. Then I was sealed to them. Almost two years later I was serving the Lord in Guatemala when President McKay died. He had been the prophet for as long as I could remember and I always knew he was a prophet. I knew I needed to know for myself that Joseph Fielding Smith was a prophet so I fasted and prayed to find out. One night I had a dream. In it I was seated in the Salt Lake Tabernacle for General Priesthood meeting. President Smith was conducting and was doing something that they don't do in that meeting. He was naming individuals who had been found worthy to receive the Melchizedek priesthood and having them stand for sustaining. As soon as he spoke I was filled with the absolute knowledge that he was a prophet of God. After a couple of names, he said Clarence Joseph Howe, my Dad's name. When Dad stood he was right in front of me. We embraced and wept. I learned two things from this dream. President Smith was a prophet and that after someone dies and has the necessary temple work done for him, it still takes time for him to overcome the addictions that kept him from temple blessings while living. It's all true.