35 years after the Fact

Sorry about this long post. I also uploaded it to my Family Website, but was sure that many of you will not see it there and I thought someone might be interested in reading about this experience. Again, I apologize that it is so long.


Last June 09 I had an experience that I would like to record for my memory.

It was shortly after coming home this past summer from helping Brian work on his house. I was feeling kind of down and bad for Brian and the problems he was having with his plumbing. It had been raining hard and we were working on his house in Ontario, Oregon. I had been there for a week helping with some projects and we had experienced one difficulty after the next.

His bathroom faucet was leaking a steady stream and to turn the water off was a big ordeal. Brian had to turn it off at the street. It was a muddy mess as he took my shop vac out to the street to suck the water out of the manhole. He then had to lay down on the ground, get a wrench on the pipe that controlled his water, and shut the valve. My heart sank as I saw him wet, tired, muddy, and discouraged. We were also in the process of hooking up the kitchen refrigerator to generate ice cubes. While doing this we broke a pipe and had water leaking in the basement of his home. Of course it was Saturday night at 9:30 p.m. and the only place we could go for parts was the Home Depot. Well, to make a long story short, we visited Home Depot and obtained the necessary supplies. We were able to stop the basement leak, but the bathroom faucet needed to wait for another time. The next day I returned home to Pocatello.

As I sat at my computer desk the next evening feeling kind of discouraged, I noticed the light blinking on my answering machine. As I listened to the messages a voice blurted out, “Is this Dan Hobbs who used to live in Idaho Falls, and served a mission in Washington in 1974 or so?” He then gave me his name. He said, “This is Tom Janaky; I think you taught my mom and dad.” I was surprised in that I didn’t serve a mission in Washington, but I did recognize the name. I immediately thought of the book on my dresser. It is a 1948 edition of the Book of Mormon. I asked Tammy if she would retrieve it for me. As I opened the book, sure enough, there was the name Janakey written inside. I then read the complete message handwritten on the cover page. It said, “God Bless you Always” Frank and Virginia Janaky, 1974. I had this rush come over me as I remembered this family with vividness. It’s funny as I think back about it now. Rarely do you remember things that happened even a few years ago and this was 35 years ago, but the events replayed in my mind.

In 1974, I was serving a mission in Houston Texas, which then was part of the Texas South Mission. My companion and I were discouraged this particular evening. In fact my entire mission didn’t seem to have much success and sometimes I have wondered through the years if I indeed had touched any lives while serving there. This particular evening in 1974 had grown late. My companion was not willing to go home and his eagerness gave me energy and spurred me on. We still had time to tract out a few more houses before retiring. I have to admit that I wanted to go home, but we felt drawn to a group of townhouses, which were located on the edge of our area. As we knocked on the Janaky’s door, Frank opened and warmly invited us in. We greeted him and his wife briefly and explained who we were. Immediately we set up a return appointment. We were excited that this family had actually invited us into their home. On subsequent visits we taught them the first discussion and had dinner with them on more than one occasion. They weren’t interested in the church, but they were very friendly towards us. They liked us. It was shortly thereafter that I was transferred from the area. Before I left, my companion and I stopped by to say goodbye. It was then that they gave me the book. I had admired the old copy of the Book of Mormon that they had perched on their bookshelf. I can’t remember how it came to be in their possession, but I do remember that Frank pulled it down from the shelf, signed it "May God always be with you," and gave it to me for a parting gift. In return he asked me to sign his family bible with my name and address. After doing this we parted and that’s the last I remember of this family. For a while I asked other missionaries about them, but never heard whatever became of them. Regardless of this experience, through the years, I have treasured this copy of the Book of Mormon as one of my prized possessions.

Now, skip forward 35 years. In June of 2009, after several discouraging thoughts about Brian’s plumbing problems and feeling bad about leaving him before his problems were completely repaired, I am sitting at my desk at home. I listen to the voice message from Frank and Virginia’s son. When I returned the phone call that evening he asked me if I was the Dan Hobbs who served a mission to Washington State in 1974. I told him that I served a mission in Texas and not Washington State, but I thought I knew who he was. In fact, I said to him “Is this the son of Frank and Virginia?” He was surprised that I knew his father and mother’s name. I then said to him, in fact, I can tell you the exact date that I saw your mom and dad last, as the date is written on a Book of Mormon that they gave to me. He seemed surprised by that. “They gave you a Book of Mormon?” he inquired. “Yes” I replied. “They gave me a 1948 edition of the Book of Mormon, it’s one of my prized possessions.” I then heard him whisper to his wife, “He has a copy of the Book of Mormon that mom and dad gave him, and they signed it.”

He then revealed that his parents had moved from Washington to Texas about that time and that he had assumed the missionaries who had visited his parents were from Washington. I asked him how he had obtained my name. He told me that he had found my name and address in the family bible. He then said, “I am calling you to tell you that my sister and I were baptized two weeks ago into your church, partly because of how nice the missionaries were to my parents. I thought it would be nice to tell you, as my parents were so fond of all the missionaries who have contacted them through the years and your name is in their family bible.” I asked, “How are they doing?” He responded, “They both have died in the past few years, but we are now in the process of getting their temple work completed.” By this time tears were forming drops of moisture that soon feel upon my cheeks. I told him that I really appreciated him calling me.

Needless to say, I was touched by this experience. It is wonderful that sometimes when we are discouraged as I was that evening, the Holy Ghost was there for me to cheer me up. I needed that uplift and the timing was perfect. I thanked Tom for calling me and letting me know about his parents and expressed gratitude for any part I might have played on events that were transpiring in his life.