A continuation of Pemberly Farnsworth’s story: He (Philo T. Farnsworth) silenced any further protests with a kiss and held me in a tight embrace. “God was truly in His heaven and all was right with the world.” A permanent warm glow filled me.


The second day after I returned to my home in Provo, I received in the mail the sheet music to Irving Berlin’s new release entitled, “Always.”

Enclosed was a note from Phil saying Irving Berlin could say it so much better than he, but this was what he would have said if he could have found the words. “Always” remained our song, and because it so aptly depicts our life together. As the music faded from my mind, I found myself still alone in an empty hotel room. Minutes had turned to hours, but there still was no sign of Phil. I began to feel terribly alone—and this was my wedding night! As I lamented my predicament, a little unbidden poem came to mind:

Was it for this I uttered prayers,

And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,

That now domestic as a plate,

I should retire at half-past eight?

–Edna St. Vincent Millay

With this unworthy thought, I jumped up and began pacing the floor. Phil was undertaking a monumental task. He deserved more support than this! So what if this was our wedding night! There would be long years of other nights. I shut out the little voice whispering in my ear, “Not like this one,” and lying on the bed, I willed the tenseness to depart. As the clock continued to tick away, I remembered the first time Phil had told me about his idea for television; his world changing invention…

…Early one Saturday morning, he appeared at my door riding one horse and leading another. I had learned to ride early, as horseback was my only mode of transportation to Jensen, so I leaped at the chance to take a ride. Remembering the lively little mare I had ridden then, I chose the more spirited of the horses. Hardly had I hit the saddle when that horse took off on a dead run up the quiet residential street with me pulling on the reins with all my strength. Suddenly, the horse swerved left, leaped a small ditch, and dumped me ignominiously on my cousin’s lawn. I was physically unhurt but thoroughly deflated. The horse stood there, as if to say, “What do you think of that!” It was a situation I could later laugh at, but I was shaken, embarrassed, and grateful that Phil saw nothing funny about it. He didn’t race after me for fear of causing my horse to run away.a

Phil’s destination was Bridal Veil Falls. Here a sizable stream breaking over the towering cliff was parted in the middle by a protruding rock, the water falling in long misty streamers resembling a bridal veil, hence its name. Phil tied the horses and found a large rock at the edge of the Provo River and we shared childhood experiences, we had much in common. We also shared a common interest in music, he played the violin and I the piano. Phil got up, threw a stick upstream, and watched it bob along past us. He began somewhat hesitantly, as though he were apprehensive of how I would react to what he wanted to tell me. He launched into the most incredible tale, far beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined. He told me he had “dreamed” up a way to send pictures through the air along with sound; a motion-picture radio. He was going to build an electronic device that could manipulate something called an electron to do the job. He said very blurred and crude pictures were already being transmitted using mechanical spinning discs; however his device would be totally electronic without any moving parts. To be continued.

The Waynedale News Staff

The Waynedale News Staff

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