Snippets

Coming West in 1936

Back Again. I found the story of our family moving from S. D. to Washington in 1936. We we are poor, lost,lonesome waifs.

Recollections of Della (Specker, Blumhagen, Cornwall) Pederson in July, 2007. age 83, of the trip her family took when she was 12 years old to escape the dust bowl of the midwest duriing the thirties.

The summer of 1936 was a repeat of summers before - hot, without rain, frequent wind storms carrying tons of dirt. This was differerent in one respect - my family was involved in a major move from Ree Heights, SD to Wenatchee Washington. My mother’s asthma made her turn blue and laid her low whenever she was close to the animals, especially when it was necessary for her to milk the cows. Each member of the family seemed to be involved in getting ready. We had carefully sorted what we needed to take and put the other things into a pile for the auction that my dad conducting later. That sale provided us with money to make the move.

Picture 1. * Specker truck at a stop in Wyoming. August 24, 1936

On August 21, we Speckers were loading our family essentials into a truck house that my Dad had built on the back of a new Chevy truck and a long trailer to be towed behind. He was the primary engineer of plans to send two families from Ree Heights - a small town with about 250 population in the center of SD to Wenatchee, WA. But he was not going along. My Mother with six children and Henrietta Paine with 8 children would travel together with their children ages 4 years to 19 years of age. Seventeen of us were to be there in time for school to start. That was important in those days! Henrietta’s husband had left in early July and was already working as a mechanic in a service station. My dad stayed behind to sell about two hundred head of livestock, our farm equipment.... and clean up after us. He would drive out in the spring.

Picture 2. *Rearranging the Paine’s trailer load on graveled highway in South Dakota

Henrietta and her oldest son, out of high school one year were the drivers of their Nash towing their trailer that was packed higher than our truck house. Nine people crowded into the car - those that didn’t fit could ride in the truck house with our family. Some laid on the bunk beds and some sat in kitchen chairs or played floor games.

We younger kids liked to sit on a kitchen chair over the rear axles of the truck and bounce freely in the small open area as we rolled over the graveled wash board roads of SD and Wyoming. We could also ride on the top bunk made of double size beds and look through two small windows on each side of the cab to anticipate what was coming next. My oldest brother, Dwight, had just graduated from high school and these two young men and our courageous mothers shared the responsibility of driving five days on unknown roads along winding rivers and climbing over the mountains of Wyoming, Montana and Idaho.

Picture 3.* Along the Yellowstone River in Montana.

We left SD after the depression during the dust bowl years. No rainfall left the land barren without pastures for the animals. But being farmers, I don’t recall that we were ever hungry during the depression but I recall the winds from the west blowing so hard and the dust so thick outside we couldn’t identify the fence posts that were about 8 feet away enclosing the garden. A table knife was wedged flat against the door into the door frame to keep the door shut when the wind was at its worst.

Such a wind storm approached with fury on the eve of our departure after our goods were loaded. Dad directed us to go to the root cellar to take cover. Dwight parked the truck on the protected side of the granary but never made it to the cellar before the wild wind arrived. For those twenty minutes or so, we feared for his safety. When it was over, he was okay but the wind had twisted the sliding double wide door off its rollers on the granary and it had been flying helter skelter around the yard Picture IV.

Picture on the next page is not a picture of the storm that night but one I found on the internet that was very similar to my recollection. Similar storms were quite common.

Picture 4* A storm cloud approached from the west with fury.

I recall a few other childhood memories: My Dad was rather resource-ful and brought in income from other than farming. He had previously built several barns in the area. He conducted Auction Sales for the neighbors. Another venture was to lay a floor on the top floor of the granary for barn dances which offered Saturday night socials with box suppers and an opportunity for neighboring musicians to combine their talents and “jam”. There were no rehearsals except for a few minutes prior to dance time. As I recall there was a piano, drum, a violin and a school kid who played the bones and maybe a horn,. The bones were quite unique. They were made from uniform lengths of animal ribs. They were cleaned , dried and cut about eight inches long.Two were held loosely in each hand, one on each side the middle finger. By shaking the hands in time to the music, they added their clickety clack. We danced the polka, schottische, waltz’s and Papa (as we called him then) called the Virginia Reel and other square dances. All ages were on the dance floor.

We lived eight miles from a town of 250, attended a one room country school through the eighth grade. We either walked three miles to get there or in cold weather we rode horse back or in a covered cart. Large rocks that had been heated in the oven through the night kept our feet warm in winter temperatures.

One of my most disliked jobs was to round up the cattle in the summer on horseback for milking. Usually cows came to the barn when it was milking time. But it seems on hot summer days they liked the only shade around provided by a large patch of sunflowers. Too young to handle a saddle, I’d ride out bareback, gather a few strays and finally drive the cows out of the sunflowers. Invariably, the horse would lie down and roll, seeking relief from the scratches of the sunflowers. You guessed it, I had to walk back about half mile to the barn.

Back to the road - heading west.
The trailer behind the car was very overloaded and before we got through SD, Paine’s had a total of 4 flat tires or blow outs. Before we reached our destination, they had a total of niine. At one time, their hitch gave way and the trailer broke loose and continued rolling in the ditch coming up along side their car that had come to a stop. We stopped frequently so the top-heavy load could be stabilized. At night, we most often stopped at trailer camps. We lifted the summertime two burner kerosene stove from the farm, out of the truck house and Mom would prepare supper for us while some would make sandwiches for the next day. On our second day out, we stopped in Wyoming at a relative of the Paine’s and were loaded with fresh tomatoes. They were a treat inside our sandwiches. Our day started between 4 and 5 am during the cooler hours. There was no air conditioning then and only the back door of the truckhouse opened so we rode along looking back at where we had been.

In SD my mother drove our sedan but after becoming so frightened on the mountain roads she refused to do so out west. As we came down the western side of the Rockies, skimming the shore line of Lake Coeur d’Alene, she insisted that my brother stop and allow her to walk. Later, as we neared Wenatchee and started down Pine Canyon, she wanted to do the same but that stretch was was too long and she continued the ride with her eyes blindfolded. As we drove south along the Columbia River, we marveled at the apples hanging on the trees in the irrigated apple orchards. We had never seen anything like them before! This green, cool valley appeared to really be the land of milk and honey.

Picture 5. * We arrived! Marvin, age 4, on Fruit Row.

In Wenatchee we parked on fruit row, one block from where Henrietta’s husband worked.

He guided us up First St. to Delaware to a huge house that the two families shared for two weeks when Paine’s found a house of their own. Our family moved a little later into a small apartment next door.The truck house was removed from the truck and parked by the back entry and served as a bedroom for the boys and an uncle who had made the trip with us. Only single, bare walls protected them from winter weather.

Picture 5 * Nineteen people shared this home for two weeks. It had two bathrooms
but we shared one kitchen.

Apple picking brought in unpredictable and short term income so my mother depended on checks from my Dad. But banking then was not electronic and she usually waited up to three or four weeks for a check to clear before she had food money. We learned to eat apples every possible way there was to fix them - apple salad, apple sauce, baked apples, apple dumplings, apple crisp, fried apples, fresh apples. At times, we had apples three times a day for several days in a row. Nevertheless they remained a treat! After apple harvest, Dwight went to the stock yards in Seattle to shear sheep before their slaughter. He stayed at the Y. In a couple weeks, he called home, broke. When he put the $20 bill which my mother had sent into his billfold, he found a $10 bill. He was quite irritated at himself for having gone hungry needlessly for several days.

My Mother got a job across the corner in a rooming and boarding house. She made beds, cleaned and cooked. That was fine until a fire shut it down in February.

When my Dad arrived in April, he looked over the structure and found it to be sound so he bought it and rebuilt it into our family residence and five additional apartments. It was our home for 28 years. Both of them died there and the apartments gave them retirement income. He not only prepared a home for us but he established his reputation as carpenter.

My first day of school was quite traumatic. Henrietta took the three grade school children down the hill to register them. Meanwhile my mother with her four year old accompanied the six who were in junior high and high school up the hill. She moved from line to line to encourage us and made sure we were in the right place. After having gone to a one room country school with 12 kids in 8 grades, and not yet a teenager, I was literally speechless as I stood in line along with hundreds waiting for the doors to open.

School was a lonely place for me. I grew up in SD without neighbors and didn’t know how to make friends. We found a church home and I was given moral support by my Sunday School teacher. My associations with Christian Endeavor prompted me to go to Whitworth College which provided me with a welcoming environment.

I finally felt I belonged to this new world!

Della Pederson

(Lineage:  Walker Clark Berry, Margaret Berry Specker)

Ring-ding-ding creator

Dianne LaBissoniere with the Plaster Man

(Lineage:  Walker Clark Berry, Margaret Berry Hazel, Della Specker/Pederson)

The Ring-a-ding-ding!

Hello all,

I wanted to share this picture of the Ring-a-ding-ding that my daughter and one of the fair board members welded together two years ago - the coming fair is the third year for it to be an attraction. 

They gathered up junk from who knows where (there's an old metal spool bed headboard on the other side.)  Small drumming sticks with sponge heads were provided for the children to use as they drummed here and there.  This year they engaged a professional drummer build 4 tapes - each from different areas of the RADD.  Then they combined them onto one tape for a somewhat melodious  effect and used the tape as background for their advertising.

Dianne is director of marketing there.  She has found her niche.  She faces the challenge of making enough money during the ten day fair to  earn the salaries of all employees for a year. A few other events have produced some financial help.  She works almost around the clock during the month of September and the same board member mentioned above blocks out his calendar to do anything she wants him to do.  He a farmer and has many skills - he taught her how to weld.

Della Pederson

There are more pictures at FairFun.com

Sharing a story from the past

The video below was taken a few years ago when we lived in Oklahoma City.  It was before we lost Aunt Shirley, who is in the video. I thought I'd add it here because Uncle Jim tells a funny story - mainly about my dad. 

We were in my office to dedicate the "old fiddle" of Earl Berry, father (Dad, Uncle Jim, Shirley and Lila) and grandfather (YVonne and Kathy K) ) which was restored and hung on the wall.  You can see it hanging on the wall near the end of the video, behind my dad. 

Lively colorful language!

My grandfathers fiddle - Kathy K

Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial - 13th year

The 13th year of the Oklahoma City Bombing:

 

The 13th year of the Oklahoma City Bombing: