Life History of Marcel F. Lauper
Now I left that humble Utah home at the end of my high school/seminary years (I traveled on a freight train with a load of our poor belongings, headed for a new destination which was to be Camarillo, California). I left with a testimony of the true Gospel in my heart, and with faith in the living God. My parents, along with brothers and sisters, and teachers had planted and nourished this testimony; and by that time of life I had strong convictions about our Church with a deep abiding faith.
As I look back on that primitive farm life and hardships --now in my sixty-sixth year of life, it rather seems to me that only a rich son of Bing Crosby on a dude ranch could match the joys I had experienced ----to smell the willows, ride horses, to trap, see the snow at Christmas time, and to have those family birthdays with our homemade cookies and the like ----well, I stop and reflect. Whatever was bad about it all has diminished and faded from my memory and those first seventeen (17) years of my life loom up in memory as happy days. It seems they were times that are just what the young people of today long for. I would only hope that my children could think of their first seventeen years with as much fondness as I recollect of my own.
Leaving the Delta area in a box car with a few of our livestock, farm implements, and household possessions, I sat alone for a short time until I was joined by a couple of 'bums' who were riding the rails; and they inquired if they could enter my car for their convenience. I think now of my having given permission was taking an awful chance, but in those days it seemed safe, at least I knew no better. Those two rode all the way with me to California. They helped me milk, and drink the milk, from the cows. One sunny morning I landed on the sidetrack at Camarillo, and it was now deep summer of 1929. [Marc provides a much more detailed description of this trip in his oral inteverview.]
We joined Father, who had preceded us on this trip, and established ourselves as a family on the plot he had acquired in Camarillo Acres. We grew strawberries and truck garden items, which eventually didn't pay off, but that period accounted for another era in our lifetime. While living there, we drove each Sunday, twice a day, to Ventura where we attended church services in the ECO Club House. I guess, there, blessed the Sacrament, consecutively, every Sabbath day for several years. My younger brothers and I represented the total Aaronic Priesthood in that activity. I have such fond memories of going with my Father as Ward Teachers during that time--difficult as it was. We accomplished this many times. I find it a moving and spiritual experience in thinking of how he felt so completely moved upon to do his duty. At one time Dad volunteered his son, Marcel, to give a talk in the Branch--this much to the embarrassment of my mother, but he assumed the responsibility of helping me to prepare. He willingly and graciously wrote a beautiful outline for my talk. I think I was acceptable for they certainly gave me plenty of opportunities thereafter.
Making a living for all of us on the Acres was so difficult there was an interlude when I went to live with Alice in Los Angeles. She helped me to get employment with Hadley, briefly along with much other searching for jobs. I recall how dumbfounded I was with such a big city, the things I saw and the many experiences linger with me. I, there, saw my first talkie-movie along with many other firsts ---it was all such a fairyland to me--the whole life style. I attended Matthews Ward and became well known through my giving a talk in one of the meetings.
It was later in Ventura while working with Safeway, a job that Ivan got me that I lived and boarded with some Branch Members, Parley A. Pruhs. He, Parley, managed to lure me away into the furniture business. He worked for Rogers Furniture in downtown Ventura, and they gave me a job--that being my beginnings in the furniture field. I was then able to move my family from the struggling life in Camarillo to the city of Ventura, renting a small house on Hemlock Street for $25.00 per month, which included the utilities and furnishings. We stayed there until I was able to rent a duplex at 43C South Catalina Street, at which time we bought some mostly-used furniture from Rogers Furniture Store. We continued there as an enlarged family group, for some time previously both Alice and Viola had joined us. They had been in the Los Angeles area - Alice working for the several years previous, and Viola working her way through college.
To emphasize the results of my mother's constant prayers in my behalf, and also to express much gratitude to my Heavenly Father for the wonderful guidance and protection afforded me, by Him, throughout my younger life, as well as now, I must here relate a couple of incidents. One that lingers in my memory, took place one Saturday afternoon soon after my first arrival in the large city of Los Angeles, (both of these incidents occurred before I was twenty years of age--8 or 19 years would be more correct.) I was alone among the crowds--milling up and down Main Street of that great metropolis. I spotted a catchy sign on a theater marquee and approached with extreme interest. I walked around the outside lobby, gazing at the enticing pictures. The offering was "For 25 cents, come in and see a nude woman"! I was totally unknown there among the throngs of people in a big new city. I entertained the idea of paying my quarter and going in. No one would see me!
Then a strange thing occurred. A beautiful, and I say beautiful, advisedly, white haired man stepped up and looked me right squarely in the eyes and said "Young man, you don't want to go in there. After you get inside, they'll show you part of what is promised and then ask for another quarter to go farther. They'll do this several times and then, what if they do show you a naked woman? You don't want to see that!" Then this man walked away and disappeared in the crowd. I never saw him again, but I can never forget him. He reminded me, in looks, somewhat of our former, beloved Stake President, Alonzo A. Hinckley (later an apostle). I often wonder if that man could have been one of the Three Nephites.
Another related incident; this seamier than the first: I was about eighteen years of age and hitchhiking a ride from Camarillo, California into Los Angeles. A Veterinarian, Dr. Arneil, picked me up, offering to take me to my destination. A few miles out of Camarillo, he drove off the main highway and onto a strange road into the hills. It was a lonely, sparsely traveled road indeed. Then I learned why we were there, although I did not understand it fully at the time. This man commenced to make advances toward me, of a homosexual nature, and although I was unacquainted with the word--homosexual, and possibly had never heard it, and most certainly knew not the practice, yet I sensed, at once, that it was wrong. I was able to ward him off! (Imagine, my living in a time when such actions were not common knowledge to a young man of my age).
I was not to be approached again, personally, by such a male creature until I was seeing Paris, upon my return trip from my mission field. This type of sin seems to me to rank among the most grievous and revolting, and despicable of all evils --next to taking of life. My, how I loathe it!!