My dad would try to teach us to yodel at odd moments. He and I would sit on the ski lift and he would break out yodeling. We’d be on family trips and make roadside stops so everyone could stretch, and the yodeling would begin. Then he would get that big grin on his face knowing he had been silly. It was fun. It was comforting.
--Marilyn
I remember Dad yodeling as we rafted down the Snake River. He would try and hear his echo in all the narrow sections of the river.
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