Music

My childhood home in Vale, Oregon

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“You never leave a place you love. A part of it you take with you, leaving a part of you behind.”

(Author unknown)

I have sometimes wondered how much it matters where we live. I’ve known a few people who felt life would be much better if they moved to a certain place, only to find that people and things were pretty much the same in their new location. I think it matters generally where we live, but I feel that our happiness is pretty much what we make it. Some believe that a person who is unhappy in place A will also be unhappy in place B, and that a person who is happy in place A will also be happy in place B-that people will still be the same people anywhere they go.

I grew up on a farm and loved the quietness, the wide open spaces, waking up to a rooster’s crow and the focus on working together as a family. But I’ve also worked in the middle of downtown Chicago, amazed at the skyscrapers that lined my way to the train station, and I’ve lived two short blocks from the ocean in California and been mesmerized by the beauty of the waves crashing again the rocks! I can truthfully say I have loved every place I’ve called home and have had feelings of melancholy as we have closed the door to each home and walked away for the last time.

Here are the places I have called home:

Ogden, Utah

Ogden was my first earthly home with my parents Jacob and Ruth Kapp, in whose love I grew and flourished and received a sure foundation for my life. My father built our home with his own hands and mother was the heart of that home. I loved the time I spent with my Saunders and Kapp grandparents and my aunts and uncles and cousins. I have few memories of Ogden as we moved from there right after my baptism, but I do remember a broken arm suffered when I was running away from taking a nap and my little wagon hit me in the back of my heels causing me to fall hard, a healing from a serious illness when Grandpa Reuben Saunders gave me a priesthood blessing, and being bitten by one of the mink my Dad was raising. And I remember seeing my Dad dressed in white, leading me down into the baptismal font and thinking he must look like Heavenly Father. My years in Ogden provided me a sure foundation for life as I grew both physically and spiritually in the love of my family. Decades later I would write a song that is now in the Primary Children’s songbook which describes these early years of my life.

[Click here to listen to “Love is Spoken Here”]

Love is Spoken Here
Words & Music by Janice Kapp Perry
Sung by Steve & Johanne Perry

First Voice:
I see my mother kneeling
With our family each day
I hear the words she whispers
As she bows her head to pray
Her plea to the father
Quiets all my fears
And I am thankful
Love is spoken here.

Second Voice:
Mine is a home where ev’ry hour
Is filled with the strength of priesthood pow’r
With father and mother leading the way
Teaching me how to trust and obey
And the things they teach are crystal clear
For love is spoken here.

First & second voices sing together
I can often feel the Savior near
For love is spoken here

Vale, Oregon

Following a strong spiritual prompting, my family and my two uncles’ families left their Ogden homes and travelled in an amazing caravan to Vale, Oregon where they would become crop farmers and dairymen, teach their children the value of work, and provide needed church leadership in that area. Living on a farm, away from the world, was very unifying as I and my three siblings only had each other to work and play with each day. Our parents worked so hard at this new life they had chosen, and taught us to do likewise. My brother Jack loved sports and had only me to practice with, so I learned to play well and have enjoyed sports throughout my life.

Mother made sure we were exposed to the finer things of life and my artist brother Gary discovered his lifetime occupation while drawing in spare moments. My talented sister Nettie made sure she got her practice hours in on the piano. Both have had wonderful careers doing what they love. Jack, who became a successful engineer, always felt the farm work-ethic he learned contributed to his success in life.

Farmers struggle through the ups and downs of crop success or failure and other setbacks, but our needs were always met. We had good friends to date, we danced to our parents’ dance band at both the high school and the church, we learned to love (and depend upon) animals, we grew or raised the produce and meat we ate, we canned and stored fruit for the winter, and most importantly, our testimonies grew strong and unshakeable during these years. This decade before I left for college was all-important in shaping the rest of my life.

Vale will always by my “heart home” no matter how far away I go or how long it has been since I lived there. Surrounded by hard-working, strong members of the church, all three of our families flourished in the most important ways. During the church’s Sesquicentennial Celebration decades later a thousand people returned to meet again with the saints in Vale in a glorious reunion. We had to gather in the High School Auditorium because we didn’t fit in the chapel. For that occasion, I composed and performed a song which describes my love of the Vale. Much better voices could have performed it, but it was personal so I gathered my courage and sang it myself.

[Click here to listen to “Coming Home”] 

Coming Home

Words, music & vocals by Janice Kapp Perry

Within my heart there is a sweet remembered place
that I call “home”
A quiet place with memories time cannot erase

though years have flown

A place where childhood days
were filled with love and faith
That gave me strength go out on my own
And though I’ve travelled far upon this earth
The things of greatest worth, I learned at home

Chorus
Coming home
Is like walking through a gate in my mind
To a sweet familiar place
Where I see my father’s face in each green acre
And I hear my mother’s voice in morning sounds
And even though they’re gone
The feelings linger on
And that’s the joy of coming home

Through all the years I have recalled the joy
that blessed my childhood home
And loving friends who walked beside me
until I could stand alone
A place so dear to me
that it will always be
The time and place where seeds of love were sown
With memories of love still burning bright
There’s really nothing quite like coming home

Chorus           

Where the music of my soul
was formed and fashioned
And the rhythm of my life was first begun
And though the years have passed
The memories seem to last
And that’s the joy of coming home 

Provo, Utah (BYU)

My parents drove me the eight-hours from Vale to Provo, Utah, helped me move my things into my new BYU dorm, hugged me tight and said goodbye.

As I watched their car drive away I confess to feeling a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of being on my own! It helped to have my best friend and new roommate Delma arrive. We were both music majors so I thought we could figure out this new life together. Four other new roommates soon moved into our Heritage Halls dorm, and the fun began. In fact I was amazed how quickly I forgot about the farm! We learned how to budget, cook together, play pranks on each other, and enrolled in some wonderful and challenging music classes. Delma and I played percussion in the BYU Concert Band and Opera Orchestra, and had several classes together including Music Theory. I loved college life, loved what I was learning, who I was dating, and pretty much everything. I loved my new “home” in Provo.

My second year was even more fun as Delma and I continued our music classes, enjoyed touring with the band, and best of all, met our future husbands! The next summer she married my cousin Wayne Saunders and I married Douglas Perry who providentially was in four of my music classes that year. Just before our marriage, Doug found that he was going to be drafted into the service so he enlisted in the Army Security Agency and his assignments took us to new places I had never been before. After his Basic Training we were married in the Logan Temple and drove clear across the country to his first assignment in Ft. Devens, Massachusetts. I had no idea how big our country was until we made that very long drive!

Harvard, Massachusetts

Doug’s first assignment was Ft. Devens, Massachusetts and we found a small upstairs apartment in a quaint little New England town called Harvard, Mass. (the natives always just said “Mass,” not the full name) which consisted of a grassy Town Square, a General Store, and a Library. Period. We arrived in the fall and New England was a crazy quilt of brilliantly colored leaves!

I had never seen anything like it, and instantly loved our new home. While Doug was working at the base each day, I was trying to learn how to cook, filling my free time reading A.J. Cronin mysteries from the library, taking long walks, and anxiously waiting for my handsome uniformed husband to return home each day. Truly it was an idyllic three-month honeymoon.

Just before Christmas vacation Doug received his next assignment to study Russian at the Army Language School in Monterey, California. The long return trip back across the country was made sweeter by spending Christmas with Doug’s family in Illinois, and then the New Year with my family in Oregon before going on to California. I had a few homesick days in New England and was so happy to return to Vale and my family for a few days.

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Pacific Grove, California

Who knew we would have to rent chains for our tires as we crossed snowy Donner Pass entering California-a much different welcome than we had expected! We were soon consoled as we reached our destination and found a small apartment behind a larger home in Pacific Grove, California, and the natives assured us the weather usually hovered at 70 degrees year round. That explained why I could find no thermostat in our apartment. We lived here for fifteen months, two short blocks from the ocean! Doug studied Russian all day, every day, at the Presidio of Monterey. We experienced a little bit of everything during that time.

This area was beautiful in a whole different way from New England and my vision of the country was once again expanded as I daily watched the gorgeous waves break over the rocks while sitting on the sunny warm beach. We served in the church here, felt the sadness of miscarrying our first baby, went for beautiful drives along the coast, saw lots of free movies at Ft. Ord, and made wonderful friends with several LDS couples who were also serving in the military. I worked as a secretary at Monterey Peninsula College during my next pregnancy which culminated in the birth of our beautiful son, Steven. My mother came to help me learn the ropes of baby care.

Shortly after Steven’s birth we learned that Doug would be assigned to an Army Base in Chitose, Japan for the next fifteen months and that it would not be advisable for me to accompany him.

With heavy hearts we left our “paradise” and returned to Vale where Stevie and I would await his return. The separation was difficult for both of us, but being with my parents softened the blow for me. Doug left knowing that he would be missing precious moments in his son’s first year of life.

Vale, Oregon (again)

My parents welcomed us and made a place for us in their small farmhouse. Stevie became their joy! When he was old enough to stand, my mother willed him to walk the day before he turned 8 months old. He rode with my dad in his red cattle truck, standing slightly behind Dad’s shoulder with his little arm around his neck. Dad always called him “Champ” and got him a butch haircut one day without telling me. My parents were so good to us, and our time with them passed quite happily. Doug returned in June and we were soon packed up and ready to travel to Hinsdale, Illinois where we would stay with Doug’s parents and work to save money and return to BYU in the fall. The day we left Vale my dad stood by our car holding Stevie’s teddy bear, with tears running down his cheeks. Taking his little “Champ” about ripped his heart out. Mother cried too. We all did.

Hinsdale, Illinois

We received a warm welcome from Doug’s parents in more ways than one: I had never experienced serious humidity before and wondered if I’d survive the summer there.

  But we settled in and Stevie got to know his other grandparents who were so kind and helpful to us. Doug’s mother encouraged us both to find summer jobs to earn school money and said she would love to tend our energetic little son while we did so.  Doug found work quickly and I found work in the dead center of the city of Chicago working as secretary to a private detective. I was starting a second pregnancy and feeling some morning sickness, and as the train arrived in Chicago each morning the steam it released onto the walkway brought on the sickness. That plus the humidity and walking among skyscrapers to and from the station was a whole new experience for me and

I admit to fairly running to the station on my last day of work, so eager to leave big city behind.

With tuition money in hand, and hearts full of gratitude for Doug’s parents, we left for Provo once more.

Provo, Utah (again)

Provo definitely felt like my second home and we were happy to be alone in our own apartment again preparing for the birth of our second child. Robert was born in the Provo Hospital with Dr. Scott Wallace singing opera during the delivery. I was happy to be back where I had just one doctor, unlike Ft. Ord where I had seen a different doctor every month. Doug was working as a bill collector and making good progress toward his degree and we enjoyed our two boys so much! I played ball on church teams when I wasn’t pregnant (and sometimes when I was). We knew we had an Rh-factor problem, which manifested itself when our little daughter Lynne was born. A blood exchange solved the problem and we felt like our joy was full, adding a daughter to our family. These were very happy, albeit busy, days.

Doug completed his degree in Russian, we moved briefly to North Salt Lake for his work selling cookware, but then decided to return and work a summer in Illinois, and then go on to graduate school in Bloomington, Indiana.

Bloomington, Indiana

Our first day in Bloomington we stayed in a motel, and when I turned the bed covers down I said to Doug, “These sheets are wet!” He said, “Welcome to humid Bloomington.” I made up my mind right then that humidity would be the one thing that would keep me from living somewhere permanently. Meanwhile, we began a six-year stay in a humid state. We lived in army barracks on campus in what was affectionately called the “Mormon Ghetto” and oh how we loved all of our church friends there. I did typing at home and full-time babysitting for other married students so

I could be at home with our three children while Doug concentrated on his schoolwork. We played volleyball with other couples every Friday night, we took up racquetball and played often. We served in the church. Bloomington became “home” in spite of the humidity. Our first little Hoosier was born two years after we arrived there. The Rh-problem is progressive with each baby and when doctors sensed a problem, our baby’s birth was induced two weeks early. When John made his entrance into the world, the doctor held him up for me to see and then quickly took him to perform a blood exchange and later a transfusion which would save his life. He needed gamma shots for months but then he was fine. We felt so blessed.

Two years later doctors sensed a problem two months before our fifth child’s due date. They tried an experimental intrauterine transfusion at an Indianapolis hospital trying to save him but he was born the next day and a blood exchange was not enough to save him. Richie passed away eight hours after his birth. When we returned home we were surrounded by the love of church friends and neighbors and realized that we really were “home” in Indiana. Just short of finishing his graduate degree Doug experienced some health problems and made a decision to quit school and become trained in computer programming. We remained in Indiana, moved off campus, and he worked for two companies in data processing before we returned to Utah in 1970. We left a piece of our hearts in Bloomington since two sons had been born there.

Logan, Utah

Doug began work in the Controller’s Office at Utah State and we found it very easy to put down roots in that blue-skied, non-humid city. We lived on the edge of town and I went walking with friends each morning out in the country. We were even chased by a gaggle of geese one morning which was very exciting. We didn’t know we could run so fast! I pitched softball for city teams and church teams, Doug became a racquetball champ, our kids had nice schools and teachers, and we loved our ward. Our third year in Logan we were able to buy our first home and I was so content that I felt like I never wanted to leave Logan. But two years later Doug found employment he loved in Salt Lake City. Knowing it wouldn’t be long until our children would be attending BYU, we bought a home in Provo where we have lived to this day, and Doug commuted to Salt Lake.

Provo, Utah (yet again)

It was easy to feel at home back in Provo. I was heavily involved in church and city sports, our family thrived here, and soon the youngest was in school. It was then that I felt my first stirrings about writing music and I now had six hours to myself each day in which to work at it. It seemed like the right time to try and make a contribution to church music, and Provo was the perfect place from which to launch our efforts. We were blessed with success, formed a music company and soon needed to move to a larger home across town to accommodate our business. Doug joined our company full-time to prepare our music for publication, our whole family became involved in the process and our work continues to this day. I’m not sure it would have happened in any other city but Provo.

The Answer to My Question

I’m still not sure I know the answer to the question “does it really matter where we live?” I know for sure that the size of the home or apartment isn’t what makes us happy. We’ve lived in some tiny places during our early marriage and felt very happy in them, never wishing we had more. As members of the church we have an advantage in that we have ready-made friends wherever we go-friends that will understand us, support us in our trials, and rejoice in our successes. That has been a constant in our lives whether on the east or west coast or somewhere in between. That was true even in far-off Chile where everything was different from what we were used to, and yet at the end of our mission it broke our hearts to leave that “home.” I wrote a goodbye song called “A Heart Can Have Two Homes.” In reality our hearts can probably have many homes.

My life experiences tell me that is true.Wherever we go, there we are, and ultimately peace comes from within and not from without. I can truthfully say I have been happy everywhere I have lived.

Janice Kapp Perry: Composer, author, lecturer

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