I had steady company with Alice Moser for almost 4 years and she didn’t like me playing pool and things that just weren’t what the church wanted, so she started going with other guys, and I became very unhappy, enough so that I remember doubting if there was a God and even thought about taking my own life. I don’t think I ever would have but that is how unhappy I was. I remember telling Alice one day that some of us guys were going to get a butch after school. She didn’t like that idea either and said if I cut all my hair she would to. I came to school the next day with a butch. The next day all her beautiful hair was gone. She had a cut just like us.

I don’t think there ever was a more surprised bishop than bishop Tingey when I went and told him I wanted to go on a mission. I don’t remember a priesthood leader ever talking to me about going. My Dad and Mom did, but no one else that I can remember. Marco Hansen who lived in the same ward told me that no one had ever asked him to go and he would have, had he been asked. Thinking back on it I wonder why the bishop didn’t just laugh at me, but he didn’t. I was not inactive, I went to church but mostly to meet my friends there. I really didn’t do anything to prepare for service.

The Bishop gave me a job teaching Sunday School, 12 year old boys. He told me an older lady would be assigned to the class to help keep order, but I would be the teacher. I suppose she was really there to see that I didn’t teach any false doctrine to those boys. I was teaching Bible stories from the Old Testament and really enjoyed it. I remember one little red headed kid who really paid attention. Others were a bit like me when that age and they were rowdy. I remember one day in a store that little red head came in with his mother and I heard him say to his mom, “that is my Sunday School teacher over there.” I was so proud and felt good for a change to be doing something I was supposed to do.

In November my bishop took me to Salt Lake for an interview with Milton R. Hunter, one of the general authorities. I was really humiliated and felt terrible when I was through. I had been interviewed by my Bishop and Stake President but they really didn’t ask me any hard questions. I had determined ahead of time that I would be honest and confess all my sins to the Bishop. But he didn’t ask any questions to help me out and I didn’t have the courage to do it on my own. I remember going to see the Stake President. I talked to him while he milked his cows. Again it was not much of an interview. Not so by Elder Hunter. I gave the wrong answer to every question I believe. I remember about the last question was, “Brother Morgan, have you ever done anything right?” I was so mad at myself for getting into such a situation and went home feeling terrible, knowing I was not worthy to be a missionary. Why did I think I could do that?

I felt terrible for days after, but on the sixth day I went to the mail box for Mother and there was a letter from Salt Lake addressed to me. I thought,” Oh no! It isn’t enough to humiliate me. They are going to kick me out of the church to. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened it and read, “You have been called to serve for 30 months in the Swedish mission.” I had never thought about going to my grandmother’s home land. I took the letter and went out in the field where dad was working and asked him what I should do about it. He just looked at it and said to write a letter saying I would accept the call. I said, “I don’t have any money even to get there.” He said, “we will find a way.” So the letter was sent. This was in September 1949 and I had until March 6^th the next year to get ready. I took books with me to work and read while I ate my lunch. It is impossible to catch up on all you messed up on for years but I tried.

Mother and I were in J C Penney’s getting some things I needed when I heard her talking to a friend a little ways away, saying, “that’s my boy over there. He is going on a mission.” It was so much different than what I was used to hearing her say, she often said to me, “Keith I don’t know what will ever become of you.” It was worth all the effort to get ready to go just to hear her that day. This photo shows what I looked like at the time.

Winter was not a good time for me to make money but I sold what I could to raise a few dollars; and by the time I was to leave we had the money for my ticket over there. The ward held a dance and a lot of people donated a dollar or two, some $5.00. I still have the record of it all. It cost $350.00 for me to get there. Now the church pays your passage to and from a mission, but then we had to pay our own way. My Dad was to milk my cows and Grandpa agreed to help feed them. Mom said that MerLyn also helped. I don’t know much about that. She had a husband in the mission field herself. I had 3 cows by then. Dad wrote to me while I was gone. Once he said a cow had stepped on a tit coming into the barn and he had to send her to the fox farm. Next a cow slipped on the ice and broke her hip and had to be killed. That left me one cow. Our mission was supposed to cost $125.00 a month but I got by with $52.00 a month for the 30 months I was gone because I had to. According to my journal Dad wrote other letters while I was gone but I didn’t have enough sense to keep any of them. Not from him, mother or anyone else. I wish now I had them.

There wasn’t much in the way of a mission home at the time. There was a house one block east of Temple Square used by maybe a hundred of us who stood on the steps out front for a photo. The war had taken its toll. Lots of men who might have gone on missions had been killed. We were about 3500 in all the world. Now there are that many in Provo training at once, and they have mission homes all over the world. We had some people come in and talk to us. No language training at all that I can remember. But I remember that there was a good spirit there. We went to the temple a couple of times. Once I saw the prophet up close, George Albert Smith, getting out of his car on the parking lot. I suppose that he would have shook hands with me had I gone over to him, but he was an old man and I thought it best not to bother him.

We were there through the week then went home for the week end, then came back on Monday to leave for our missions. My first train ride other than the Galloping Goose was from Salt lake to New York. It took four days. We were met by an agent of the church and taken to a hotel. First time I ever saw a TV. It was all snow and not worth watching. Some of the guys wanted to go out and see the town. We went up into the Empire State Building. When we got off at the top I could feel the building sway back and forth and I got right back on the elevator and went down again. I didn’t like heights. Even being on a load of hay that was to high bothered me.

The next day we boarded the Gripsholm for a stormy 10 day voyage. Mother had sent me a letter. I wish I had kept that it was a treasure. I don’t have any Idea what she wrote but the address was priceless. It was addressed to Elder Keith S. Morgan going to Sweden on the Gripsholm boat to do missionary work. The whole envelope was covered with address and it found me. Sometimes the first two decks were roped off and we weren’t permitted to go out there. The waves were just too high. The second day out people were sick every place. Some would get ill on deck and try to get down the steps to their bed but throw up on the way and the wind would catch that and send it every place. The poor sailors were out with hoses trying to keep things clean. I remember going into the men’s room once and finding no room at the urinal which was just a long pipe with holes in it and water ran down the wall to a drain. Not one of those guys at the urinal had their pants unzipped. They all had their head on their arms leaning against the wall and throwing up everything they could.

I never did get sick but felt woozy the whole time. At night we had to put pillows by our sides to keep from rolling back and forth. It was a bit unnerving to lay there at night and hear as the boat rode up a wave and tipped downward. The propeller would come out of the water and spin wildly for a bit until it hit the water again which would cause the whole boat to shake. I thought surely this boat will break in two.

In the dining room for those of us who could still eat anything, they put double table cloths on the tables and wet them down with a sprinkler, like you used on your clothes before ironing. This would keep the plates from sliding across the table. The tables were large round tables and sat 12 to each table. We were assigned a table to sit at. After a day or two out someone asked me what we believed in, and I had no idea what to say. One of the elders leaned over and said, “Give her your Articles of Faith card dummy.” I could have kissed him.

There was little to do on the ship for us other than read. We did hold a Sunday Service on Sunday. The second Sunday we were on board that ship we were ask to hold services for anyone on board who wanted to come. Elder Svenson was our leader. We had an Elder Larson who had a poor personality. He didn’t get along with the others very well. One day I asked the steward if I could have an onion. He brought me one and I and Elder Svenson spent a lot of time slicing it up with my razor. We put a few slices in the pillow cases of the elders. When we went to bed that night and they lay down there little heads to rest the warmth from them started those onions to smelling up the place. Everyone started to complain about what they may be cooking for morning. It was quite a while before someone discovered the onions and then they thought Larson may have done it.

It seemed like a long time before we finally arrived. I wondered how we would ever get to land. The water was so full of large rocks poking out of the water. A pilot came out to meet us on a small boat and he came on board and got us through all those rocks without hitting one. We were met by some of the Elders working in Göteborg. After getting through customs which was not difficult but took a long time standing in line, we went to a restaurant to get something to eat. That was the first I realized that I was in Sweden, I couldn’t read the menu. I looked around and seeing someone nearby eating I just pointed and said, “I’ll have that.” I got a flat fish with a white sauce and some potatoes. I didn’t like it but I ate it. I found a lot of things on the boat that I didn’t like either but soon learned to eat and love Swedish food. I don’t remember ever eating Blue Cheese before I got on that boat. And I never saw Sill, which was pickled fish. There was lots of new things to eat and I learned to love most of it.