TRAILER PARKS:
Once the folks determined that the permanent base of operations would be in Emmett, we actually lived in several different places in the valley.
The first place was in the Bishop's House. It was a lovely old two story farm house that was close to the Letha school and we rode the bus. We lived on the first floor. The door to the second floor was locked and I was always curious about what was up there. I can assure that if the door had been unlocked it would have been one of the first places I would have sneaked in to take a look around.
Heat was provided by a wood burning stove. The smell of pine wood burning haunts my memories. Mom also used the stove for mouse disposal. There was an electric stove for cooking. I do not remember if there was a washing machine but if there was one it was most likely a wringer three tub arrangement. I do remember Mom hanging clothes on the line and in the winter she would bring in the clothes stiff from frost and stack them on the table until they melted. Freeze dry works pretty well. There were a few beautiful peacocks who lived on the property. I was always scared to listen to them scream for help at night. My brother and I had to walk about half a mile to the highway to catch the school bus. We always stopped at the next farm to wait for some other kids to walk with us. They always had oatmeal for breakfast, I would smell it when we stopped in the kitchen. One time my brother and I was walking home from the bus stop and some kindly intentioned person stopped and offered us a ride. We had never gotten the beware of strangers speech. But I was extraordinarily stubborn, cautious and quit opinionated I was the alpha of the pack. I firmly refused the offer. I saw the car stop at the house, probably thought Mom should be warned in case we screamed bloody murder once we got home.
During this time Mom and Dad were dragging us to various trailer lots in Garden City, (can we get out? NO!) and they purchased a Great Lakes 50 foot long, 12 foot wide, three bed room, one bath unit. It was moved to the Green Tree? trailer court on East Main, across the street from Carl's Market. We were parked on the backside in a bigger lot and had a very large lawn to play on. However play was not limited to that lawn. We were free range kids and went anywhere we felt like, we just did not have permission to leave the property.
One of the enticements was a very old, large willow tree. The base split into four or five hefty limbs. Two of which were one of top of each other. At one point I was too short to stand on one branch and touch the upper branch, kind of limited things. By the next year I was tall enough to grab the upper limb and navigation about the tree seemed limitless. There were a lot of kids living in the park as well, so there was always a gang of kids hanging around there and playing until exhausted. At one time it was suggested that we name the tree. My opinion held sway for the "Limby Hotel" being all opinionated and such. The landlords would periodically chase us away from the tree. They were afraid of law suits.
In the park there were several small cabins. Transient migratory workers (better known as fruit tramps) rented out the cabins. No Mexicans stayed in the park, not due to any particular prejudice but there was a labor camp where they stayed and it was closer to the orchards. The cabins in the park had hand pumps. I was fascinated by the pumps. Other transitory fruit pickers would stay in the park. We got to know a couple of families, they traveled in nice small trailers and followed the season. One family was from Roswell, New Mexico. They were the nicest people and it didn't hurt that one of their sons, aged about 15, was tall, dark and handsome to my teenaged eyes.
There was a washing machine but everyone had to get on a schedule I think Mom was on a Tuesday, anyway she was busy on that day washing and she hung the clothes on the line next to the house.
One time Mom and Dad had gone to Boise on some errand. Grandma Berglund had stopped in to chat. While she was there I walked into the first bedroom and my little sister was standing by the bed gazing fixedly into the closet. I looked at the closet and it was on fire! I grabbed her and started hollering. Phil was lying down covered with a blanket and he leaped up and beat the fire out. I almost trampled Grandma Berglund trying to fill a gallon jug of water to throw on the closet. I got the clothes and stuff on hangers hung on the wash line to air out. Mom was pretty surprised to see the closet of clothes hanging outside when they got back from Boise.
Now I did have chores at that point more than being built in babysitter. My job was to clean the bathroom once a week. I was also tasked to iron down to a certain colored towel. I learned how to iron a shirt properly. At one point Mom had me wash the dishes in the sink. I didn't particularly hate doing it but I dawdled so much with splishing and splashing that she found it quicker to do it herself.
Hmmm, wonder if that works with anything else? Nope. Every once in a while Mom would send me with a note to Carl's Market to charge something like a loaf of bread or some other item. The market kept a little notebook for each of their credit customers and Mom had a beautiful initial. It was a large beautifully swooping V that looped into a graceful B. I wanted one of those. So I practiced making a backward R on an I that turned into a B, it took a bit more effort but has remained my default initial ever since.
In my junior year we moved to Riggins, Idaho and the Folks parked the trailer on the pasture next to Grandma Horn's house. When we moved back later that winter, Mom wished she had swept out the dormant flies while she had a chance. When the heat came back on the flies drowsily swarmed but she left the doors open and eventually they left to their wintery doom.
For some reason the next move was out on Sales Yard Road where the trailer sat for a few months. Dad purchased a pig and one of my brothers learned that pigs pay no attention to electric fences. He had to chase down the pig and I think he finally cornered the pig in a berry bush or some such. The folks also purchased a sweet little Guernsey milk cow. My brother Richard got the milking duty and that cow produced about five gallons of milk per day. Plenty for drinking. I am not sure how it came about that I avoided milking that cow.
The next parking spot was in a trailer park located where currently resides a largish store that has known many many reincarnations over the years. Let me describe sleeping arrangements. The back "master" bedroom was big enough to hold a regular size bed. I and my sister Gale slept there. The middle bedroom held bunkbeds, Carla and Ellen slept there, the front bedroom held bunkbeds and my brothers Richard and Phillip slept there. Mom and Dad slept on a pull out in the living room. How they didn't become chronic back suffers I will never know. This was the place I lived when I graduated from High School and moved to California.
The folks still remained in town. Grandma Berglund died that year and amongst her children it was decided to let Dad purchase her house in town and they moved in and stayed there several years. Eventually that home sales led to a down payment on a Boise Cascade home on a more rural road. They sold that and decided to purchase a double wide in a trailer park. They lived there for many years. At one point, post various marriages; I lived there, Gale lived there and Richard lived there. Then itchy feet and job opportunities arose and off we went.
The folks sold that trailer and moved into a small house on the highway. After Dad died Mom moved into senior housing in town and stayed there until her death at age 83.
Once the folks determined that the permanent base of operations would be in Emmett, we actually lived in several different places in the valley.
The first place was in the Bishop's House. It was a lovely old two story farm house that was close to the Letha school and we rode the bus. We lived on the first floor. The door to the second floor was locked and I was always curious about what was up there. I can assure that if the door had been unlocked it would have been one of the first places I would have sneaked in to take a look around.
Heat was provided by a wood burning stove. The smell of pine wood burning haunts my memories. Mom also used the stove for mouse disposal. There was an electric stove for cooking. I do not remember if there was a washing machine but if there was one it was most likely a wringer three tub arrangement. I do remember Mom hanging clothes on the line and in the winter she would bring in the clothes stiff from frost and stack them on the table until they melted. Freeze dry works pretty well. There were a few beautiful peacocks who lived on the property. I was always scared to listen to them scream for help at night. My brother and I had to walk about half a mile to the highway to catch the school bus. We always stopped at the next farm to wait for some other kids to walk with us. They always had oatmeal for breakfast, I would smell it when we stopped in the kitchen. One time my brother and I was walking home from the bus stop and some kindly intentioned person stopped and offered us a ride. We had never gotten the beware of strangers speech. But I was extraordinarily stubborn, cautious and quit opinionated I was the alpha of the pack. I firmly refused the offer. I saw the car stop at the house, probably thought Mom should be warned in case we screamed bloody murder once we got home.
During this time Mom and Dad were dragging us to various trailer lots in Garden City, (can we get out? NO!) and they purchased a Great Lakes 50 foot long, 12 foot wide, three bed room, one bath unit. It was moved to the Green Tree? trailer court on East Main, across the street from Carl's Market. We were parked on the backside in a bigger lot and had a very large lawn to play on. However play was not limited to that lawn. We were free range kids and went anywhere we felt like, we just did not have permission to leave the property.
One of the enticements was a very old, large willow tree. The base split into four or five hefty limbs. Two of which were one of top of each other. At one point I was too short to stand on one branch and touch the upper branch, kind of limited things. By the next year I was tall enough to grab the upper limb and navigation about the tree seemed limitless. There were a lot of kids living in the park as well, so there was always a gang of kids hanging around there and playing until exhausted. At one time it was suggested that we name the tree. My opinion held sway for the "Limby Hotel" being all opinionated and such. The landlords would periodically chase us away from the tree. They were afraid of law suits.
In the park there were several small cabins. Transient migratory workers (better known as fruit tramps) rented out the cabins. No Mexicans stayed in the park, not due to any particular prejudice but there was a labor camp where they stayed and it was closer to the orchards. The cabins in the park had hand pumps. I was fascinated by the pumps. Other transitory fruit pickers would stay in the park. We got to know a couple of families, they traveled in nice small trailers and followed the season. One family was from Roswell, New Mexico. They were the nicest people and it didn't hurt that one of their sons, aged about 15, was tall, dark and handsome to my teenaged eyes.
There was a washing machine but everyone had to get on a schedule I think Mom was on a Tuesday, anyway she was busy on that day washing and she hung the clothes on the line next to the house.
One time Mom and Dad had gone to Boise on some errand. Grandma Berglund had stopped in to chat. While she was there I walked into the first bedroom and my little sister was standing by the bed gazing fixedly into the closet. I looked at the closet and it was on fire! I grabbed her and started hollering. Phil was lying down covered with a blanket and he leaped up and beat the fire out. I almost trampled Grandma Berglund trying to fill a gallon jug of water to throw on the closet. I got the clothes and stuff on hangers hung on the wash line to air out. Mom was pretty surprised to see the closet of clothes hanging outside when they got back from Boise.
Now I did have chores at that point more than being built in babysitter. My job was to clean the bathroom once a week. I was also tasked to iron down to a certain colored towel. I learned how to iron a shirt properly. At one point Mom had me wash the dishes in the sink. I didn't particularly hate doing it but I dawdled so much with splishing and splashing that she found it quicker to do it herself.
Hmmm, wonder if that works with anything else? Nope. Every once in a while Mom would send me with a note to Carl's Market to charge something like a loaf of bread or some other item. The market kept a little notebook for each of their credit customers and Mom had a beautiful initial. It was a large beautifully swooping V that looped into a graceful B. I wanted one of those. So I practiced making a backward R on an I that turned into a B, it took a bit more effort but has remained my default initial ever since.
In my junior year we moved to Riggins, Idaho and the Folks parked the trailer on the pasture next to Grandma Horn's house. When we moved back later that winter, Mom wished she had swept out the dormant flies while she had a chance. When the heat came back on the flies drowsily swarmed but she left the doors open and eventually they left to their wintery doom.
For some reason the next move was out on Sales Yard Road where the trailer sat for a few months. Dad purchased a pig and one of my brothers learned that pigs pay no attention to electric fences. He had to chase down the pig and I think he finally cornered the pig in a berry bush or some such. The folks also purchased a sweet little Guernsey milk cow. My brother Richard got the milking duty and that cow produced about five gallons of milk per day. Plenty for drinking. I am not sure how it came about that I avoided milking that cow.
The next parking spot was in a trailer park located where currently resides a largish store that has known many many reincarnations over the years. Let me describe sleeping arrangements. The back "master" bedroom was big enough to hold a regular size bed. I and my sister Gale slept there. The middle bedroom held bunkbeds, Carla and Ellen slept there, the front bedroom held bunkbeds and my brothers Richard and Phillip slept there. Mom and Dad slept on a pull out in the living room. How they didn't become chronic back suffers I will never know. This was the place I lived when I graduated from High School and moved to California.
The folks still remained in town. Grandma Berglund died that year and amongst her children it was decided to let Dad purchase her house in town and they moved in and stayed there several years. Eventually that home sales led to a down payment on a Boise Cascade home on a more rural road. They sold that and decided to purchase a double wide in a trailer park. They lived there for many years. At one point, post various marriages; I lived there, Gale lived there and Richard lived there. Then itchy feet and job opportunities arose and off we went.
The folks sold that trailer and moved into a small house on the highway. After Dad died Mom moved into senior housing in town and stayed there until her death at age 83.
1 comment:
Just adding to your memories. The park across from Carl's Market was Ross's Trailer Park managed by Bert and Beulah Gwynn. The Pig Pen property was on Mill Rd as was the house they purchased after selling Nellies's house. The cow was a Holstein that I milked twice a day for months, probably why you didn't have to milk her. I also lived at Monte Vista after moving back from Rhode Island, I rented Richards Trailer for a few months.
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