Born 29 October 1901
Richfield, Sevier, Utah, United States
Died 03 December 1997
Panguitch, Garfield, Utah, United States
Burial
Panguitch Cemetery, Panguitch, Garfield, Utah, United States
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-By Freeman Johnson
Franklin Cortell Hansen, 1901 - 1997. My uncle Franklin was my Mother’s oldest brother. I think in many ways he was the one she envied most, but also got the most upset with. I always though of uncle Franklin as a part of a pair. It was always Franklin and Jean. They seemed close together, perhaps more so since the never had any children. This is one of the reasons that I asked each of the cousins to write something about him (and Omer). Franklin married (1933) Jean Foy Dodds a scrappy, quick witted gal from Panguitch Utah. I always admired aunt Jean.
Thoughtful was rather obvious trait of Franklin’s. He didn’t speak very fast, and at least I always thought that he was choosing his word very carefully. Many of the things he said were profound. I enjoyed visiting with Him and Jean. She on the other hand was quick to speak and was sharp as a tack.
Franklin was well educated, both by schooling and personal study. He loved to read (I think a trait he got from his mother). I remember visiting Him and Jean one summer in Salt Lake where they had a small apartment for summer school at the “U”. They were so excited tell us about the classes they were taking. I think that this was part of a program to upgrade teaching skills and proficiency. Another thing I will never forget about their commitment about a college education, was how the send me some money each year ($20) my freshman year at Utah State. Money was tight for my folks and Jean said they had helped one of the nephews on her side- so it was logical to assist me. I greatly appreciated their thoughtfulness.
Franklin and Jean loved teaching. loved Boulder and the ranch. Much of the time as I was growing up they were teaching somewhere. I specifically remember Antimony and Hatch. There was one Thanksgiving they invited us to come down from Richfield and have dinner with them. On of my fond memories from that dinner was aunt Jean’s date pudding. I had never tasted anything so delicious, Jean was apologizing all over the place how that the pudding was not properly done, and I thought “it couldn’t get any better than it already was”. Obviously I ate several dishes, probably enough to embarrass my mother.
I remember the ranch they had adjacent to Grandmothers at the north end of the Hansen ranch. Their small neat white house sat a ways back along the north property line, I think that is where I have my earliest recollections of Franklin and Jean. There was one summer where Bob and I were down to Boulder along with other cousins. As a group our age (Freeman, Bob, Delores, Jody (Jo Ann), and I think Sky (Kathleen)were up to aunt Jeans place. She was making cookies and had to run somewhere and left us kids to finish and bake them. There was quite a discussion about how to make the cookies. The girls insisted that you needed to drop the dough by spoonfuls onto the pan, while Bob and I held out for rolling them out and cutting with a glass. The girls won, (and since they were girls they would know the most about such things). Jean rally laughed when she got back and saw the results. She was making the classic sugar cookies.
Deep inside I knew that Franklin was a cowboy, after all my Hansen Uncles were all cowboys. He didn’t seem the cowboy to me, even though he was one, but always seemed more at home with a book. Perhaps that wraps up how I view this uncle... a cowboy with a book.
-By Delores Hansen Bowman
There are several things I remember about Uncle Franklin. He was the Bishop of the Boulder Ward when I was very young. He baptized me in Peterson's Duck Pond on August 3, 1947. He may have baptized all of us eight year olds for all I know.
He was a very quiet man. I really admired him because he had a college education. He and Aunt Jean were school teachers for forty years and taught in every school in Garfield County. When we lived in Japan, we met a missionary who was from Panguitch, Utah. He said Uncle Franklin was his math teacher. I inquired, "How did you know what your assignment was?" His reply was, "He just wrote it on the black board."
Many, many people I have met have had Uncle Franklin or Aunt Jean for their teacher. I never thought about it before, but I believe that was the reason I wanted to be a school teacher.
One thing that stands out in my mind was what a fine violin player he was. I loved to hear him play. Violin music is some of my favorite music today.
He and Aunt Jean owned a little grey house above our house in Boulder. Because of all the lightning strikes in the summertime, I remember being at his home one summer afternoon. The lightning struck, but they had a ground wire which absorbed the electricity and kept the house from catching on fire.
When Bob and I moved to Utah from California, we went to see them at their home in Panguitch. Aunt Jean kept calling Bob, "Mr. Bowman." Shortly after we returned from Japan we attended Aunt Jean's funeral in Panguitch.
Sometime later, Uncle Franklin moved to the Golden Living Center in Salt Lake City. One Sunday afternoon, Richard (Hansen) and I went to visit him. He was so happy to have us come for a visit. He invited us to have lunch with him and introduced us to his friend. She was a nice woman. He seemed so happy living there.
The next time I saw him was in Panguitch at his funeral. He died October 27, 1997, two days before his ninety-sixth birthday. He was buried in the Panguitch Cemetery by his eternal companion, Jean Dodds Hansen.
-By Sky (Hansen) Morris
Soft-spoken Uncle Franklin came to be a part of my life when I was in 4th grade. Mother was ill for several months. He and Jean took care of us children when Juanita was less than a year old. Jean loved Juanita's big brown eyes and happy disposition. Uncle Franklin related more to my brother and I. We went out to "tromp hay" as he tossed it up on the wagon with his pitchfork. In the summer, Uncle Franklin always seemed to me to be walking somewhere with either a shovel or pitchfork over his shoulder. We loved to play by the ditch where the clear water raced along until a small headgate would turn it out onto pasture or hay field.
Ronald and I could be enticed to take our "Saturday night" baths in the old tin tub, by the promise that when we were clean and in our pajamas, Uncle Franklin would play his violin for us. We loved that. Uncle Franklin was my teacher in the two room school in Boulder for a few weeks.
In later years, especially when I worked at Navajo Mountain and had children in school in Utah County, I often stopped at Vera's in Salina and then again in Panguitch to see Franklin and Jean. He kept a garden of which he was proud and often Jean prepared us supper "from the garden". Franklin and Jean were "tourist welcomers and gave information out" at the Hatch Visitors Center.
Franklin cared faithfully for Jean as her health declined. When she finally was moved to the Care Center in Richfield, he shared her room, and thoughtfully related to her needs and was a good friend in her difficult times. There and after Jean died, when he moved to Salt Lake City, I was impressed by his reading and writing and keeping involved with current events. His mind was ever active.
-By Richard Hansen
Uncle Franklin wrote his autobiography and told his life story, and the only thing I would add onto it is the three years when he lived at the Golden Living retirement center in Salt Lake City. Every Saturday I would go out and have lunch with him, and usually take him for a ride. He liked to go in the car and I’d take him in the mountains, or to the Great Salt Lake, or downtown, he liked Sam Weller’s bookstore. I would take him tapes, he liked music. That’s about all I can add to his autobiography.