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When I was a teenager, I worked as a secretary for a John Deere equipment dealer. It was a place where farmers would come in and shoot the breeze, sitting at the parts counter while they discussed the weather, their latest harvest, or what equipment was acting up that day.
There was one particular man who came in occasionally, and we could always count on him for a great story like the time he cut his own arm off with a pocket knife because it was being slowly eaten by a piece of equipment while he was alone in the middle of a field. Wow!
One of my favorite stories he would tell went something like this:
This story takes place in either Argentina or Brazil (my memory fades after twenty years). This farmer was there for some sort of conference, and was riding an elevator in a large office building. On the way up, he started making small talk with people there, and one of the gentlemen there said that he had a sister who lived in the United States. Where? Utah. Where in Utah? Yep, that's right same tiny rural town. In fact, this man's sister was in the same ward with this small town Utah farmer! Small world! Of course, he told the story much better, with all sorts of questions leading up to this discovery, but you get the idea.
This is when I developed my love for, “Hey, do you know so and so?” I know it irritates people sometimes, but every once in awhile you make a connection and it's really quite fun! For instance:
- On Mormon Momma last year: A lady named Seanette is posting. I wonder how many Seanettes there can be in the Mormon world? So I ask , “Any chance you lived on the Oregon coast in the early 1990s?” Lo and behold, indeed, I was one of the missionaries who taught this Seanette.
- One of my brothers serves his mission in Pennsylvania. He teaches a wonderful couple and they are baptized, he stays in touch with them, they go to the temple and call him with this news: “Our sealer had the same last name as you!” Now, I don't have one of those common last names like Smith (shout out to Alison!). If you have my maiden name (McQuivey), we are related. Pretty closely related. This sealer in the Washington D.C. temple? My dad's first cousin.
- Same “dad's first cousin”: I am in Primary one day last year in Southeastern Louisiana, dutifully teaching my adorable little Primary kids how to sing, when I see my husband poking his head in the door. He seems excited to tell me something. I hurry my singing along and meet him in the hall. “You'll never guess what I just heard!” he says. “There used to be a Bishop McQuivey in this ward!” Huh? I never knew any McQuiveys ever lived here! “Indeed, over 30 years ago,” he says. I call my grandma and ask. She says, “Oh yeah, I do vaguely remember (dad's first cousin) living there briefly right when he was out of college.”
- Of course there is always this one: A guy I am dating comes home from a ski trip in another state and tells me he met some really cool people while he was there. The more he describes one of the guys, the more I think that this sounds like someone I know. I ask him the name. Indeed, current boyfriend has bonded with former thought-he-was-the-love-of-my-life boyfriend. They have a mutual friend who introduced them. For all I know, they are probably still in touch!
So now for my last small world story although I have lots of others I'd love to tell sometime. Then, I want to hear yours!
Last summer I moved from Louisiana to Michigan and was called to serve in the Young Women's presidency. Before Christmas, I was at the YW president's home helping to make Christmas gifts for the girls, when we started talking about our Ricks College days (yes, we both refuse to call it BYU-Idaho because it was Ricks to us “back in the day”). Somehow something came up about where we lived, and it turned out we lived in the same complex not so big of a deal considering it's one of the larger ones up there. She asked what apartment, and I told her that I couldn't remember the number but that if you were facing the complex, it was on the third floor on the very end. She shouted, “321!” and I'm like, “Yes! That's it!!” We both lived in that very same apartment, five years apart. I got doing my math (yes, I did learn something at Ricks College) and I figure the place is about 25 years old 6 girls per apartment per year so give or take there are only about 150 of us who have lived in that very apartment. What are the chances we'd be serving in a YW presidency together in Michigan all these years later? Now one of our young women is heading to BYU-I in the fall, and we are trying to talk her into Heritage Manor (which I've heard has been renamed now) 321. We'll see!
Small world!
Alison Moore Smith is a 61-year-old entrepreneur who graduated from BYU in 1987. She has been (very happily) married to Samuel M. Smith for 40 years. They are parents of six incredible children and grandparents to two astounding grandsons. She is the author of The 7 Success Habits of Homeschoolers.
Love “small world” stuff. As soon as my brain starts working again, I am sure I have some to share… lol.
I love these kinds of connections. Kevin Bacon isn’t the only one who can do it!
There was a lady in my ward in Boca Raton who seemed to know everyone in the world within about three steps. No matter where we went, she knew someone or knew someone who knew someone. It was bizarre!
I have several “small world” stories. One just happened this past Sunday. My husband was just called as the YM president in our new ward. He and his 1st counselor (who just met for the first time 2 weeks ago) were chit chatting, and it turned out that our previous Bishop and good friend was the 1st counselor’s missionary companion in the MTC.
It certainly is a small world– a world that’s even smaller within the church. Add the military on top of that, and it shrinks exponentially. If you’re LDS AND in the military, chances are you’re going to bump into friends of friends over and over again. In fact, you’re likely to be in one ward, move a couple times over a period of 6 years or so to various parts of the world, and end up in a ward with some of the same people who were in your ward 6 years before on the other side of the globe.
My “big” small world story started back in 7th grade when my family moved to Germany. I became fast friends with a girl named Amy from my Beehive class. (This is the branch I mentioned awhile back, where we met in the chapel of an old Nazi hospital and our YW class was held in what used to the morgue, and where I was called as the ward pianist for Sacrament meeting at age 12 because I was the only person in the branch of 25 or so that played the piano). After only living there for one year, my father was stationed to a different post in Germany a few hours south. Amy and I stayed in touch, but shortly after I moved south, Amy’s father got orders to Panama. Amy and I STILL stayed in touch– but about a year later, her letters stopped coming and mine got returned. Unbeknownst to me, the post in Panama was having frequent bomb threats and with things getting progressively worse, part of the post was shut down and people were sent to other areas of Panama or completely out of country. In the process of moving yet again, and in a rush, Amy lost my address, and my letters failed to find her.
The summer before my sophomore year, my father got orders to Ft. Hood Texas. Our very first Sunday in the new ward, a gentleman was called up to the podium to give the closing prayer in Sacrament meeting. It was Amy’s father! I just about had a cow! I was COMPLETELY irreverant and spent the entire prayer turned around in the pew, trying to find Amy. The second he said “Amen” I was up out of that pew, heading back to the overflow where I’d spotted her mother. It turned out that Amy was in Florida having one on one time with her grandmother and wasn’t going to be back for another 2 weeks, just in time for her birthday. So her parents and I plotted and planned- and when her father picked her up from the airport after her visit, he told her that he had a special suprise birthday present waiting at home. I was wrapped up in a box!
Tracy, that is so much fun!
Last night we went to a wedding reception for a young woman in our ward. Her mother (Marcia) has become a good friend of mine since we moved here and one of their other daughters is Alana’s good friend. Marcia is the older sister of a gal I went to high school with. The groom, we found out last night, is the little brother of a guy who used to work for us in our engineering company. (The grandparents of the bride is also a second cousin of Cleon Skousen, if you know who that is. :smile:)
My family lived in a tiny community on Cape Canavoral(CApe Kennedy) when I was born. The govt. bought my parents property for the space program and they moved inland to Titusville before I was Three. When I went to BYU, my roomate brought a date home one night who said he was also born on Cape Canavoral. I asked my mother and –sHe remembered him! She told me we were playpen playmates while she and his mother visited. Neither of our familes were LDS when we were 3.
I dated a real (gorgeos!)skuzzbucket my first month after coming out to BYU about a year before I met my husband. Fifteeen Years later my DHusband was buying and selling trailors. I accompanied DH on one trip to Calf. At an obscure Trailor Repair Shop we stopped at, Gorgeous Skuzzbucket was the owner/proprieter. It took me a minute to place him. I’m pretty sure he didn’t place me. THank Goodness. I would hate to have to explain my ever having dated him to DH. His charactor or lack thereof was apparent.
Now, daisy, THAT is amazing. Meeting up with former non-mormon now-mormon playpen mates!
Once Sam and I went to a dinner/game party with my sister and her husband. It was at the home of one of her friends right after we moved back to Utah. One of the other guests was a guy who was a total jerk/bully in Sam’s junior high in Wyoming. When the connection was made, he felt a bit awkward. I resisted spitting on him.