Just thought I would fill everybody in on what is going on at my house...
...boys are in mourning that the Reinhards decided to stay in Provo for Turkeyday...but their grief is lessened by the fact that Sierra appeared in all her shlepped-from-Provo-to-St. George-to-Vegas-on-the-shuttle glory last night. She quickly had us all in stitches and kept the boys up til way past their bedtime hacking Mom's facebook page.
Doug is coming to terms with Lila bringing home a boy for Thanksgiving. His name is David. They just met. She says it isn't serious at all, he just needs a place to go for t-day as his family is all in North Carolina. Doug is the dad who finds it difficult to believe there is a boy on the planet wonderful enough for any of his daughters...let alone the youngest. He has taken to calling the poor kid, "Hippie".
Lollie is contemplating the virtues of serving a pregnant turkey two years in a row. Of course, everybody will be in on the joke except the poor new kid. Brennan has proactively requested the honor of being in charge of the bird. Mom may have to roast a cornish game hen in secret and stealthfully slip it in the cavity when Bren isn't looking. How much basting does a pomegranite glazed turkey need? He'll have to tinkle some time.
Thanksgiving is an important holiday any year but somehow it doesn't seem quite as wonderful as DECEMBER 8TH!!! Upon which ospitious date the elusive sister Rachael will return to the realm in which her mama can actually SPEAK TO HER!!!
Yes I have a burning testimony. I also have missed my baby like crazy. How on earth does God expect women to haul their children around for 9 tourturous months, do everything remotely possible for them for 18 years, if they are daughters...experience a friendship like no other from the moment they hit maturity (which for Rach was about 4 1/2) and then NOT EVEN TALK TO HER FOR 18 MONTHS? I believe I have handled it rather well. I only break down in sobs and curl up in a fetal position twice a week.
Her talk-in-church-no-longer-to-be-referred-to-as-homecoming-address will be December 18. I expect every last one of you to attend. Bring chocolate.
I can't really think of anything else of interest. Sam's latest book has an intreging title. "Vampire Baby". It is beyond hilarious.
Bren and Em have been house hunting in our neck of the woods. It is completely unfair to get a Lollie Mama's hopes up...but they are doing it. Hope springs eternal for mommies.
So far I have one christmas tree up. I have two more in storage and Sierra insists we get a real one too. I plan on thouroughly enjoying having all eight of my children home for Christmas!!!!!
Aunt Lollie and baby Jake
I can't wait to be a Grandma!!!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Grandma LouElla Jones Bronson Verses Grandma Agnes Anderson Lyman
I love them both. I didn't know either of them. Not fair to ask which is my fav. The differences are many. For example, Grandma Agnes had to lie in bed for nine months to produce a healthy baby. Even then, if she didn't lie flat, she would miscarry. Grandpa Lyman gets pretty testy in his memoir when he tells the story of a Relief Society woman who comes over to give Agnes direction for her calling (which she didn't need, according to G-pa), and talks to her for over an hour. Agnes sits up in bed out of respect for the woman who thought she was important...said G-pa. She lost the baby later that day. Grandpa said, "she lost her treasure".
Treasuring children is something both of my Grandmas had in common. Agnes planned to have ten. Only succeeded in giving birth to five who lived past babyhood.
I can't even imagine LouElla sitting up in bed for anyone. I guess that is the biggest difference I see from reading about them. However, Agnes was married to a much stronger willed man than she was. I can guess that George was the one to give in to LouElla while Agnes played the peacemaker role for Leo.
I'm sure they are all peeking over my shoulder and shaking their heads at their silly granddaughters interpretation of who they are. I like to imagine them with me. I like to think (and hope) I am strong enough to stand up for myself when I need to and to give in to others when they need it more.
How awesome it is to discover their writing at the same time! I'm getting to know both of them. They already know me.
Treasuring children is something both of my Grandmas had in common. Agnes planned to have ten. Only succeeded in giving birth to five who lived past babyhood.
I can't even imagine LouElla sitting up in bed for anyone. I guess that is the biggest difference I see from reading about them. However, Agnes was married to a much stronger willed man than she was. I can guess that George was the one to give in to LouElla while Agnes played the peacemaker role for Leo.
I'm sure they are all peeking over my shoulder and shaking their heads at their silly granddaughters interpretation of who they are. I like to imagine them with me. I like to think (and hope) I am strong enough to stand up for myself when I need to and to give in to others when they need it more.
How awesome it is to discover their writing at the same time! I'm getting to know both of them. They already know me.
The First Few Servings of Hash by LouElla Jones Bronson
Hash
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
(Note from Laura Lyman Debenham: I found another page of columns which I believe were miss labeled. One has a question mark and another has no date at all. I think whoever dated these columns – very likely my mother, as the hand writing looks like hers – put ’38 when she meant ’36. I could be wrong. I have been before. I will be again. However, when reading the content of the columns it makes sense to presume that they were at the beginning of Grandma’s writing for this paper which would coinside with 1936 rather than 1938.)
March 27, 1936 (I assume this was one of Grandma's first pieces for the paper, written before she was hired to write the weekly column)
Water is so plentiful in the roads at certain points at Moulton that a flock of ducks has been making regular visits here the past week or two. So well do the ducks seem to enjoy the novelty of swimming in the road that passing motorists are almost upon them before they rise and fly away.
Last week a deer was seen near the road down the Birch creek canyon and a few days later a coyote was surprised standing in the middle of the road in the same locality. As the high rock wall of the canyon was on one side and the creek bed on the other side of the road, Mr. Coyote showed almost human intelligence by dodging back and forth in front of the car till he almost got run down by the auto – before he disappeared in the thick growth of brush along the roadside.
On three consecutive evening recently two rainbows have formed complete arches across the eastern sky. Could anything more beautiful than those gorgeous colors be imagined?
Sometime between March 3, 1936 and October 9, 1938 (6)
Moulton Brevities
Friends of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Herbold were pleased to hear of the arrival of a seven and a half pound daughter at the home of our former teacher in Decio.
County Superintendent Florence Haight visited the Moulton school Tuesday. She recommended some improvements which are badly needed in the school building.
Charles Augestine, a former resident and a notable bachelor, has been visiting here recently.
Many of our people have left for the potato and beet harvest on the flat.
October 9, 1938 (6)
One day being in a restaurant and thinking something unusual would be a delightful change, I ordered Hungarian goulash. To my surprise it turned out to be just plain American hash and a rather inferior hash at that. The incident taught me that things do not change because of a fancy name and that I should know enough to order what I really want. Hence the name of this column, which is to consist of items on various subjects, will be Hash without any fancy additions.
How many people know that the old immigrant road crosses the Junction valley from the Immigrant canyon on the east to the Granite pass on the Southwest? This old road is still plainly visible and its route proves that those old timers knew at least one axiom of geometry: that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. A deep indentation in the present road is the only sign left showing where the old road crosses the new. A suitable marker at this spot might read: this bump is to jog your memory concerning the hardships your pioneer ancestors endured that you might ride in luxurious cars on these good (?) roads.
Speaking of roads one of our mail carriers says the latest thing in road engineering can be found just south of Oakley, where one has a choice of four different roads on a certain hill. He says he has tried all four and not one of them has anything that tempts him to take it again.
By the way, I should think the road south of Oakley would be a good place for our county officials to conduct at least a part of their campaign for election or re-election of office this fall.
October 16, 1936 (8)
Mountains with their rugged strength and beauty always give me a feeling of exaltation combined with a sense of security. The skyline of our little valley at night is one of the most beautiful scenes imaginable. The mountains seem to draw near and stand like sentinels till day returns.
The poet who said, “the meadow lark now croons a sadder lay.” Must have heard the lovely singers in the autumn. Though their songs are just as sweet, the sadness comes from knowing that the charming melodies will not be heard again until the birds return to herald the arrival of spring.
Airplanes which fly over our heads during the spring, summer and autumn have created a pleasant diversion. They have a strange attraction for me, and even the skeptic who thinks flying would be all right if he could keep one foot on the ground, looks as if he could be persuaded to take a ride, without too much coaxing.
Plowing time! Don’t’ you must love to see a freshly plowed field? It seems symbolic to me: all the useless weeds recovered, and the farmer plants only the crop he wants to grow. If he can keep those weeds from growing his field is beautiful and much more valuable.
October ? (likely 23), 1936 (8)
My sympathy is with some of the weary travelers who going over these terrible roads lose their way and have to return about 8 or 10 miles to the nearest ranch to inquire the way; only to find that when they finally do get on the right road it’s worse than the wrong one.
It has been almost impossible lately to pick up a paper or listen to the radio without hearing the name of tetown of Ipswich in England. Hearing it so much I caught myself humming the chorus of a song which was on one of those old cylindrical phonograph records years ago. It would probably be popular with some of the hundreds of reporters who were frantically trying to get the Simpson case to their papers over the phones.
It goes like this:
“Which switch is the switch Miss for Ipswich?
It’s the Ipswich switch which I desire.
Which switch switches Ipswich with this switch?
You’ve switched my switch on the wrong wire,
You’ve switched me on Northwick not Ipswich.
And now, to prevent further hitch,
If you’ll tell me which swithch is Northwich and which switch is Ipswich
Then I’ll know which switch is which.
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
(Note from Laura Lyman Debenham: I found another page of columns which I believe were miss labeled. One has a question mark and another has no date at all. I think whoever dated these columns – very likely my mother, as the hand writing looks like hers – put ’38 when she meant ’36. I could be wrong. I have been before. I will be again. However, when reading the content of the columns it makes sense to presume that they were at the beginning of Grandma’s writing for this paper which would coinside with 1936 rather than 1938.)
March 27, 1936 (I assume this was one of Grandma's first pieces for the paper, written before she was hired to write the weekly column)
Water is so plentiful in the roads at certain points at Moulton that a flock of ducks has been making regular visits here the past week or two. So well do the ducks seem to enjoy the novelty of swimming in the road that passing motorists are almost upon them before they rise and fly away.
Last week a deer was seen near the road down the Birch creek canyon and a few days later a coyote was surprised standing in the middle of the road in the same locality. As the high rock wall of the canyon was on one side and the creek bed on the other side of the road, Mr. Coyote showed almost human intelligence by dodging back and forth in front of the car till he almost got run down by the auto – before he disappeared in the thick growth of brush along the roadside.
On three consecutive evening recently two rainbows have formed complete arches across the eastern sky. Could anything more beautiful than those gorgeous colors be imagined?
Sometime between March 3, 1936 and October 9, 1938 (6)
Moulton Brevities
Friends of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Herbold were pleased to hear of the arrival of a seven and a half pound daughter at the home of our former teacher in Decio.
County Superintendent Florence Haight visited the Moulton school Tuesday. She recommended some improvements which are badly needed in the school building.
Charles Augestine, a former resident and a notable bachelor, has been visiting here recently.
Many of our people have left for the potato and beet harvest on the flat.
October 9, 1938 (6)
One day being in a restaurant and thinking something unusual would be a delightful change, I ordered Hungarian goulash. To my surprise it turned out to be just plain American hash and a rather inferior hash at that. The incident taught me that things do not change because of a fancy name and that I should know enough to order what I really want. Hence the name of this column, which is to consist of items on various subjects, will be Hash without any fancy additions.
How many people know that the old immigrant road crosses the Junction valley from the Immigrant canyon on the east to the Granite pass on the Southwest? This old road is still plainly visible and its route proves that those old timers knew at least one axiom of geometry: that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. A deep indentation in the present road is the only sign left showing where the old road crosses the new. A suitable marker at this spot might read: this bump is to jog your memory concerning the hardships your pioneer ancestors endured that you might ride in luxurious cars on these good (?) roads.
Speaking of roads one of our mail carriers says the latest thing in road engineering can be found just south of Oakley, where one has a choice of four different roads on a certain hill. He says he has tried all four and not one of them has anything that tempts him to take it again.
By the way, I should think the road south of Oakley would be a good place for our county officials to conduct at least a part of their campaign for election or re-election of office this fall.
October 16, 1936 (8)
Mountains with their rugged strength and beauty always give me a feeling of exaltation combined with a sense of security. The skyline of our little valley at night is one of the most beautiful scenes imaginable. The mountains seem to draw near and stand like sentinels till day returns.
The poet who said, “the meadow lark now croons a sadder lay.” Must have heard the lovely singers in the autumn. Though their songs are just as sweet, the sadness comes from knowing that the charming melodies will not be heard again until the birds return to herald the arrival of spring.
Airplanes which fly over our heads during the spring, summer and autumn have created a pleasant diversion. They have a strange attraction for me, and even the skeptic who thinks flying would be all right if he could keep one foot on the ground, looks as if he could be persuaded to take a ride, without too much coaxing.
Plowing time! Don’t’ you must love to see a freshly plowed field? It seems symbolic to me: all the useless weeds recovered, and the farmer plants only the crop he wants to grow. If he can keep those weeds from growing his field is beautiful and much more valuable.
October ? (likely 23), 1936 (8)
My sympathy is with some of the weary travelers who going over these terrible roads lose their way and have to return about 8 or 10 miles to the nearest ranch to inquire the way; only to find that when they finally do get on the right road it’s worse than the wrong one.
It has been almost impossible lately to pick up a paper or listen to the radio without hearing the name of tetown of Ipswich in England. Hearing it so much I caught myself humming the chorus of a song which was on one of those old cylindrical phonograph records years ago. It would probably be popular with some of the hundreds of reporters who were frantically trying to get the Simpson case to their papers over the phones.
It goes like this:
“Which switch is the switch Miss for Ipswich?
It’s the Ipswich switch which I desire.
Which switch switches Ipswich with this switch?
You’ve switched my switch on the wrong wire,
You’ve switched me on Northwick not Ipswich.
And now, to prevent further hitch,
If you’ll tell me which swithch is Northwich and which switch is Ipswich
Then I’ll know which switch is which.
Monday, October 3, 2011
More of Grandma's Column...Here's LouElla Jones Bronson
At this point Grandma begins to call herself L.J.B. Hill Billy Reporter:
Foothill Fact and Fancies
December 23, 1937
A gentleman from Twin Falls with the mineral interests of this country at heart was prospecting on some of the property northeast of here recently. He found, however, that snow is more plentiful than gold, or whatever he was looking for, so will have to make a more extensive examination of the region in the spring.
Ernie Sparks, mayor of City of Rocks, is probably the only mayor of a large city in the United States who has no housing problem to contend with.
If Charley Johnston’s dude ranch should materialize when and (must we still say if?), we get a highway, he might easily have some competition, as there are a dozen ranches in the region that would be ideal for the purpose. There is the Immigrant Station ranch, owned and operated by Joe Moon who is known to be a sticker. Then there’s the Circle ranch, at present unoccupied but nevertheless a fine location for such a business. The City of Rocks ranch, operated by the city’s enterprising mayor, could easily furnish considerable competition. The Bronson ranch on the Lyman summit is ideally located; and in the same locality is the old Lyman place, operated by that competent cowpuncher and rider, Gib Lee. Mr. Johnston still has the edge on the others, however, as he owns one place in Emery canyon and another in Immigrant canyon adjacent to the Moon ranch. If all these places should choose to run, there would doubtless be plenty of positions open for prospective guides. There might be work for the Oakley Valley chamber of commerce getting sufficient heiresses to be guided.
At the Moulton school’s Christmas program there was the other thing that was nearly as interesting as the school kid’s presentation of the Christmas story in pantomime. That was Roy Eames’ effective use of the sign language.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
January 6, 1938
Joseph Millard is buying the ranch owned by his father, the Baron. By adding this estate to his own, Joe will have one of the prettiest farms in the valley. Since it is located against the western foothills, He (illegible) the first to show the welcome again of spring. It is one of the few places in this part of our community where the hard work and perseverance of the owners has erected a monument of trees. If Mr. and Mrs. Millard have gained by their change of residence, the advantage has been well earned.
SKIING
Two boys with one horse and a pair of skis can have a lot of fun, if one is to judge by “Bud” McBride and Reid Fairchild. These boys are getting out the winters wood and the skiing is by way of recreation. It does seem that we have some advantages, doesn’t it?
Oh-h!
This is a secret, but any woman will tell you that a secret is quite useless if it is untold: The North Enders intend to challenge the South Enders for a rabbit hunt in the near future. Believe me folks, them boys mean business! Watch this column for further particulars, and look out bunnies!
A Thwart Maybe
It looks as though the New Year is to be ushered in with a January thaw. That ought to be Illegal, no we will need to have two thaws this January to pay for the one we missed last year.
(Illegible) of Preventive – for (illegible)
LaMar Bronson was awarded the contract for supplying ten cords of wood to the school district. Glenn Webb is helping LaMar to get the wood out. This big pile of fuel is supposed to keep the “absent minded professor” reminded that we really have winter in the foothills.
New Crop
Chester Bullers always a believer in diversification in his farming, expects to reap a new crop in 1938. If his present developments are successful, this year should bring him a harvest of silver and perhaps other minerals. Mr. Bullers mine is some distance west of his home here.
January 13, 1938
Joe Moon has been staying in Burley for the past few weeks with his wife who is ill. During his absence, Walt is protecting the home place, the old Stage Station, from the ghosts of the Redskins.
The Wrights have moved into the Trunkey house, thus shortening the distance to school by about five miles.
At a party last Friday night at Lynn, Bishop Vance O. Lind gave a laughable impersonation of Major Bowes. Those on whom he called to take part on the program turned out to be typical amateurs.
Ray Bates is wearing a broad grin these days at the thoughts of still being able to carry the mail by car. It’s only fair to warn Ray that this may be only the proverbial calm before the storm, so he can get himself braced for the blizzard that’s bound to come sooner or later.
January 20, 1938
When we went to Oakley on Thursday of last week the general thaw had made the roads so slippery that the trip down Birch creek canyon resembled a ride on one of those whip concerns at a carnival. About the only difference being that it was far more exciting because of the danger of sliding off the grade into the canyon below. Warm as it was, one would hardly enjoy a ducking.
Simon Baker waited one day too long to return home from his latest trip to town. Rain and snow had made the roads so bad that he broke his car down by the Ivan Holt pasture. Although Molly and the twins, Barbara and Kathleen, had to wait for four hours or more while Simon went for help they were still cheerful. Funny how much some folks can go through and still be optimistic.
Artie Bronson of Almo and Mrs. Sara Boden of View were visiting relatives here Sunday. They too had difficulty in making the trip on account of the snow. They were able to return to Almo Monday morning.
January 27, 1938
The boss seems to enjoy a fight. Anyway no one else could get near the radio during that hugging match between Jimmy Braddock and Tommy Farr on Friday night.
Earl Whiteley of Oakley must be a bit of a philanthropist. He deserted his warm fireside and faced the misery one meets on a trip to Lynn to make life more cheery for some of the natives of the foothills. He is installing a wind charger and accessories at the Curtis Nelson home.
Our cats and pigeons are staging quite a contest. We can’t decide whether to kill the cats and save their hides or kill the pigeons to save their lives.
Theo Martindale who is staying at Lynn to help the mail carrier, had to make a trip to Oakley this week to bring back one of their horses that had gotten homesick.
When in Burley recently I felt pretty much at home when some large tumble weeds rolled leisurely down Main street. Another thing which kept me from being lonesome for our own hill country was the fact that three big coyotes just south of town stood and watched us without signs of fear.
Mrs. Ida Moon, wife of Joseph R. Moon, who had been ill for more than a year, passed away at her daughter’s home in Burley, Wednesday, January 19. The funeral was held in the Presbyterian church in Burley, Sunday, January 23. There were a few people from Moulton at the funeral. Mrs. Moon with her friendly, sympathetic manner had endeared herself to all with whom she associated. It is said of her that no day ever passed in which she did not perform some kind act.
February 3, 1938
During this unusual winter the mail carrier has used a sleigh only once I think. The remainder of the time he has gone with a car. This is quite different from his experience last winter when at this time of year he had to get assistance to break a trail to enable him to go with a pack horse.
There has been a large number of absences from school during the past month due to illness. Every one of the thirteen pupils has had his turn at missing school for two or three or a week. Maybe thirteen is an unlucky number.
The Kirkpatricks and Fred Taylor have bought the Bill Merril property here. This includes the Lorin Hendricks place last year and will probably move there in the spring.
Unless the groundhog is blind he will surely see his shadow today (February 2), which is supposed to mean that there will be six more weeks of winter. That won’t be so bad if it’s the kind of winter we’ve been having.
A man from here was talking to one of the gentlemen who had some say-so about roads. “why don’t you do some work on the Birch creek road?” he asked. “Say,” was the answer, “if we had all the money we’ve put on that blankaty-blank, we could have several good roads other places.”
“Well,” replied the greenhorn from the foothills, “if you had put the three thousand dollars that was used to build that atrocity you call a road through Emery canyon, on the Birch creek cow trail, you might have a road there.”
February 10, 1938
We were supposed to be in Burley at 1:00 p.m. to fulfill an appointment, so left home at 10:30 a.m., assuming that would give us plenty of time. “You don’t need chains on this frozen ground.” Advised a kindly friend. We had the pleasure of putting them on in a fifty mile an hour blizzard on the Lyman summit. From there on for about a mile the snow is badly drifted in the roads. We arrived at our destination at 3:00 o’clock. A sign in the office read “Do not stay long. We are very busy,” therefore we cut out call to two and a half hours.
Since the wind has been blowing steadily from the south and southeast for about a week the dry farmers are looking for the storm when it breaks to be a good one. The burning question is; Will we have enough snow to supply moisture for the crops next summer? There is time enough yet.
Can artesian wells be obtained in Junction valley? This question has often been asked. Many people think there is every indication of it, but no one with enough money and faith too has appeared on the scene to prove the theory. One man when asked what he would do with a million dollars if he had it said he would invest it here to build up the country and he felt sure he would double his money. We hope he soon gets the million.
During the past few days from one to three cars have been making the trip to Oakley daily—an indication that the roads are improving. If it’s so that it’s impossible for anything to stand still without either advancing or retrograding, they would simply have to improve.
February 24, 1938
James Rufus Wright, twelve year old son of Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Wright, who died in Burley recently, was a native of the Junction valley. Rufus Wright is a typical southerner and Ethel Sease Wright, Jimmy’s mother, was born in the west. The hospitality of the south and west is confirmed in their home, and it was in such an atmosphere that their son grew.
Jimmy was a cheerful lad and, in spite of the illness he had for a long time he made no complaint, going to school almost till the last. A good conversationalist, he could talk equally well with old or young. He was a youngster with vision and had great hopes for the valley that was his home. The grownup friends of the family who knew him all pronounced him a fine, promising young boy, while among his schoolmates and other friends his age, the verdict is unanimous, “he was a swell kid.”
The funeral was held at the Johnson funeral parlors at Burley, Wednesday, February 16. Speakers were William Barrett of Malts, President Charles S. Clark of the Cassia Stake, and George W. Bronson. Music was furnished by a quartet of Oakley people—Mrs. Bertha Severe, Mrs. Clarissa Rice, George Butler and Grant Severe—and a trip of his schoolmates, the Bronson girls. The quartet sang “My Father Knows” and “I Have Heard of a Land.” The trio sang “nearer, My God, to Thee” and “The Vacant Chair.” Interment was in the Burley cemetery.
Jimmy is survived by his parents and one sister, Edna Mae. There was a large attendance of relatives, friends and former neighbors at the funeral.
March 3, 1938
VANISHING ACTS
Hazel Millard was telling of an occasion when she visited at Kelton. “I’ve never seen that place,” says I. “If you want to see it.: remarked Mother Bronson, “you’d better go before they have another earthquake, or there won’t be anything to see.”
IT’S THE EARLY BIRD
Foothill folks have been getting up in the middle of the night the past week or two when they were going places. Reason: The ground freezes at night and they aim to get wherever they’re going and back home before it has time to thaw in the morning.
WHERE THERE IS SMOKE
No need to get alarmed and call out the fire department if you see smoke pouring out of the “teacherage” these days. Jerry is merely doing his own cooking while his wife visits her folks in Twin Falls for a couple of weeks.
WASTE WATER
It is a tragic fact that every spring hundreds of streamlets carry acres and acres of our fertile mountain soil into creek and river beds. The water itself mostly runs to waste so early in the year. I feel like paraphrasing the famous words of King Richard to read “A reservoir, a reservoir—a kingdom for a reservoir!”
COOPERATION
George and LaMar went to Almo to join Artie and Wesley and Clyde to complete the Bronson Brothers’ orchestra on Washington’s birthday. They played for a successful character ball at Elba that night.
SLOW BUT SURE
Joe Millard’s mule team express is one sure means of transportation these days. They carried Mr. and Mrs. Joe and boys to the Daniel Beus ranch recently to bargain for some hay.
MUD THROWING IN FAIR HERE
With mud practically to his hubs, Ray Bates doesn’t know whether to hope he gets the mail contract for the ensuing four years or to pray that some other poor fellow is the victim. Well, here’s mud in the eye of whoever gets it.
CALIFORNIA VERSES IDAHO
Bishop Vance Lind and family are visiting in California where everything is supposed to be of the very best Even their floods are presumably superior to the Idaho brand. We hope the bishop’s folks can swim.
March 10, 1938
It has been suggested that if the woolgrowers exterminate the coyote, they should also destroy the jack rabbit. The coyote has the one redeeming virtue, that of killing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of these pests while if the jack rabbit has any good traits, I should like to hear about it.
One day not long ago a young man was out hunting rabbits when he found two traps not far apart. The jaws of each held fast in their grip the skeleton of a coyote. A gruesome picture indeed, but a mute testimony of the heartlessness, or maybe just carelessness, of some trapper.
There is still enough frost in the ground to keep the farmers from plowing, but not enough to make the roads fit for travel.
Rufus Wright moved his belongings from the Trunkey place this week. His daughter Edna will be unable to continue in school because of poor health.
The Moulton school plans to beautify the school grounds this spring with trees, shrubs and flowers. This is to be a project of the Good Will club.
March 17, 1938
“Back to School” week is being featured at Moulton this week. Parents and sponsors are invited to attend school all day on Thursday and participate in classes with the youngsters. They are advised however not to try any of the pranks and practical jokes they used to play on their teachers and each other when they were kids. The prof. may know some of those old-fashioned punishments like standing on one leg for half an hour or heavy history book in each hand for the same length of time holding both arms extended with a heavy history book in each hand.
A young man made an effort to get to Almo to take a gal to the dance last Friday night but found the roads too difficult. He tried to console himself with the thought that “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” but he kept adding “Yeah. Of the other fellow.”
Weather prophets claim that because birds are nesting a month earlier than usual a hot dry summer will surely follow. The only comforting thought one can get out of this is that weather prophets are nearly always wrong.
This was in a theme on health recently in school. The organs of indigestion are as follows: (nothing more)
March 24, 1938
On St. Patrick’s Day there was a good attendance of parents and other visitors at the school. The children put on a puppet show for their entertainment entitled, “Three Meals Shorten the Day.” Appearing on the playground and taking part in the games was compulsory. After a few such games as Dare Base there seemed to be an epidemic of rheumatism among the population for a few days. Appropriate songs, poems and Irish jokes were part of the program which ended with refreshments both Irish and American.
We made a trip to Oakley and Burley last week end. Going down the Birch creek canyon and returning by way of Albion, Elba and Almo. This trip should qualify one to direct at least a part of traffic in and out of Junction. The Birch creek road was very rough from being frozen and cut up badly. We had some difficulty over the Albion-Elba road, should have gone around by Malts. The road from Almo past the Old Stage Station ranch was not as bad as we expected. Anyway I hope we can stay home till the roads are better and would advise others to do likewise if possible.
We are just now getting a taste of our long delayed winter, with snow falling nearly every day. It was thought that this could be remembered as the winter of a single blizzard but that hope is shattered now.
March 31, 1938
Four people from Burley, no doubt wishing to be the first visitors of the season to the famous Rock City, made the trip last Sunday. They started with two cars but had to leave one stuck in the mud on the divide. It pays to advertise, only if the good can be delivered. The unfavorable comment on the bad roads to our renowned city will be likely to offset all the good things that can be said of the scenic wonderland. There is only one way that a journey to City of Rocks at this time of year can really be enjoyed—that is by horseback. This I think is the ideal method to use at any time.
A trip with the road grader over the Birch creek road, if made soon while the roads are wet, would do a lot of good. BUT IF THEY WAIT TILL EARLY SUMMER WHEN IT’S AS DRY AS THE SAHARA DESERT, THEY WILL ONLY MAKE A BAD MATTER WORSE BY LOOSENING ALL THE ROCKS IN THE ROADWAY—AS WAS DONE LAST YEAR, THE YEAR BEFORE AND A LOT OF OTHER YEARS BEFORE THAT.
A group of Moultonites went to the home of Joe Moon on Sunday evening and held a cottage meeting, for the purpose of cheering up the owner and occupant of the Stage Station ranch. R. Moon has a picturesque place in a good location. He is doing some painting and making other improvements this spring.
Chester Bullers has been doing quite a lot of work on his mining claims during the winter. Much of the work has been of a preparatory nature, such as making buildings, improving roads, by way of getting ready for a big campaign next fall and winter. Chester feels that the mine is promising.
Little Shirley Taylor is getting to be a big girl now. She celebrated her third birthday anniversary Saturday by being guest of honor at a party given by her mother, Mrs. Fred Taylor. Several little friends helped her set her pretty birthday cake with lots of ice cream.
April 7, 1938
A number of cars have gone to town from the foothills this week. The way folks take my advice about staying at home until roads improve, reminds me of two fellows who had lost some horses—not too far from here. They stopped to ask one of their neighbors if he had seen them. “Why yes.” He said, “they’re right down in that patch of willows,” indicating a place about a mile or two away. As they were leaving, the older of the two men turned his horse in the opposite direction. “Hey,” called his companion, “you’re going the wrong way,”
“Oh no, I’m not” was the answer. “If we go in the opposite direction to what Bill says, we’re sure to find the horses.” And believe it or not, they found them.
The way cream is dropping in price lately makes the farmers in this neck of the woods wonder if it’s because they have more of it to sell this year than usual. One of them was asked, “do you make a good profit from your cow?”
“I barely break even, “ answered the farmer.
“Then why the dickens do you keep so many?”
“Well, they give me a lot of good outdoor exercise."
The first day of April is a poor date for a party, it was decided by the students and teacher. Everybody, thinking it was an April fool’s joke, stayed at home. As there were plenty of refreshments on hand, it’s a question as to who got fooled—those who went to the party or those who stayed away.
Daniel Hues has brought a herd of his sheep into the Junction Valley. They’re lucky to have good sheepskin coats. They’ll need ‘em!
Moultonians listened to the broadcast of the general conference of the L.D.S. church Sunday at the school house.
April 14, 1938
According to Carl McBride who came up from Oakley with some friends, the roads are not as bad as they have been reported. Carl says he will be needing beet thinners in case he has any beets.
A Mr. and Mrs. Jones of Twin Falls visited City of Rocks Tuesday. They consider it superior in scenic beauty to many of America’s widely advertised attractions.
We made a trip to Burley last week end, going by way of Almo. We met quite a few interesting people in Burly: businesslike and sometimes rather impatient county officials and rather impatient county officials; sad employees; polite but slightly contemptuous bank clerks; a judge with words of encouragement; busy doctors; courteous clerks and dozens of other. We drove up to a service station and a young man proceeded to shine up our windows. It’s hard to decide why he took so much time: was it because our glass was very mud splashed, or did the fact that we had one of our daughters in the back seat have anything to do with it? We attended a public land sale in which there seemed to be very little interest, but quite a lot of principal. We saw several of our friends and neighbors from the foothills. I heard a lady remark to another, “My but I’m tired!” I’d rather do a washing than spend a day in town!”
I’d bet my shoes that she was from the country too, because I felt much the same way. We finally arrived home on foot, having to abandon our car in a mud hole a mile away. The walk wasn’t bad but the creek we had to cross was swollen by the spring run-off and woman-like, in attempting to jump across I landed right in the middle. Oh well! We’ve been to town anyway—but thank goodness we’re back home!
April 28, 1938
BABY SAVED FROM DROWNING
Joseph Millard aged two years old, narrowly escaped drowning last week when he fell into Cottonwood creek near the Millard home. Young Henry, age three and a half, ran toward the house screaming and their mother, who was working in the yard, rushed down to the creek and went in after the baby who had risen to the surface. At that point the water was about two and a half feet deep, very muddy, and ice cold—flowing as it does from snowdrifts nearby. It took the mother nearly half an hour to resuscitate the little fellow.
IT IS SPRING!
We know it is spring when myriads of stink bugs come from goodness knows where. When flies, ants and other insects start to making a nuisance of themselves. When we go out to dig in the garden and find millions of wire worms just beneath the surface. (One of our neighbors says these wire worms are one stage in the life cycle of the stink bug, the length of which is seven years. So it looks as if there will be no noticeable decrease in the stink bug population for a while. We realize it’s spring when the farmer, having had a hard time getting his machinery ready to plant his crop finally gets started only to have it commence to pour down the rain. When lambs, calves, chickens or pigs arrive on the only day that there is a blizzard. When the cows going on the grass seed pull up a root of (illegible) or other poison, or some of them get into the alfalfa patch and bloat up like a balloon. When the milk at night has the delicate aroma of wild onions we know that at last it is spring!
HE FOUND IT
George went out to look for some bailing wire (sometimes called Mormon buckskin). After searching for about an hour he decided there was none on the place. After dark as he came toward the house there was a crash that made me think we were having another earthquake. What’s the matter?” I yelled, running outside.
“Nothing!” was the answer, “Only
April 28, 1938
BABY SAVED FROM DROWNING
Joseph Millard aged two years old, narrowly escaped drowning last week when he fell into Cottonwood creek near the Millard home. Young Henry, age three and a half, ran toward the house screaming and their mother, who was working in the yard, rushed down to the creek and went in after the baby who had risen to the surface. At that point the water was about two and a half feet deep, very muddy, and ice cold—flowing as it does from snowdrifts nearby. It took the mother nearly half an hour to resuscitate the little fellow.
IT IS SPRING!
We know it is spring when myriads of stink bugs come from goodness knows where. When flies, ants and other insects start to making a nuisance of themselves. When we go out to dig in the garden and find millions of wire worms just beneath the surface. (One of our neighbors says these wire worms are one stage in the life cycle of the stink bug, the length of which is seven years. So it looks as if there will be no noticeable decrease in the stink bug population for a while. We realize it’s spring when the farmer, having had a hard time getting his machinery ready to plant his crop finally gets started only to have it commence to pour down the rain. When lambs, calves, chickens or pigs arrive on the only day that there is a blizzard. When the cows going on the grass seed pull up a root of (illegible) or other poison, or some of them get into the alfalfa patch and bloat up like a balloon. When the milk at night has the delicate aroma of wild onions we know that at last it is spring!
HE FOUND IT
George went out to look for some bailing wire (sometimes called Mormon buckskin). After searching for about an hour he decided there none on the place. After dark as he came toward the house there was a crash that made me think we were having another earthquake. What’s the matter?” I yelled, running outside.
“Nothing!” was the answer, “Only that I found that wire I was looking for this morning.”
May 5, 1938
SEE CASSIA COUNTY FIRST
If “See America First” is a good slogan, “See Your Own County First” should be a better one. Many people living almost at the gates of City of Rocks know very little about it. We decided that if this wonderland is worth making a trip across the continent to see, surely we should make an effort to visit it more often ourselves. Whereupon we used Mary Lou’s birthday as an excuse to journey through and gaze upon its magic scenes. The fresh odor of mahogany and pine after a gentle shower was exhilarating and the view from the Emery canyon road above the Circle ranch alone is worth many times the sacrifice one might have made in taking the excursion. It’s easy to understand why people who, when on their way into the City of Rocks, sometimes sarcastically inquire why we live in what they choose to call this “godforsaken” country, never repeat the question after they have seen that enchanted area. We ourselves renewed an often affirmed resolution to see Cassia county first—and often.
NO APOLOGY
After going through Emery canyon, I feel that there is no necessity for me to apologize for any statements either made or quoted by me as to the condition of the road. It’s terrible! It was a relief when we arrived on the freshly graded Birch creek road—something like waking up after having had a nightmare.
GATE FACE LIFTED
The Oakley highway officials gave the Birch creek road a much needed beauty treatment when sent the grader over the road last week. The improvement is immense.
MRS. SPARKS FINDS “THE PACK HORSE”
On looking out of her window on the north, Mrs. Ernest Sparks discovered another of the hundreds of marvels of the City of Rocks. On the face of the hill, formed by the white granite rocks and outlined by the cedars, is a large white horse with a pack on its back. It may be a sheep-herder’s or a prospector’s nag, or perhaps the brown saddle bags hold the famous and much sought gold that is said to have been hidden in the rock city. Anyway, it’s interesting to look at and might furnish treasure seekers a new and logical place to search.
MAYOR’S DAUGHTER IMPROVES
Miss Mary Sparks is recovering from a recent operation in the L.D.S. hospital at Salt Lake City.
May 12, 1938
J.R. Stowers received a letter this week from a cousin in Iowa, who had lived with his (Mr. Stowers) father’s family as a child and whom he had not seen or heard from for seventy three years. Mr. And Mrs. Stowers were visiting at the Millard home.
A good soaking rain accompanied by some hail came to the rescue of the foothill dry farmers on Monday.
Karl McBride and Leonard Hunter, who have been staying at the McBride ranch for a while, have almost established a permanent business: that of pulling cars out of the mud, mostly in Emery canyon. So far Leonard hasn’t needed to use any of his magic to supply mud holes enough to keep them busy.
The annual influx of sheep herds is nearly at its height, although the lateness of the season has caused some flock owners to delay their arrival later than usual.
The mothers in the hills received the customary deference and honor on Mother’s day. Special meetings and programs formed a major part of the day’s activities. All the mothers survived the shock and were able to go about their work as usual on Monday.
Mr. and Mrs. Roy Eames and children and Mrs. Julia Eames were callers at the teacher’s home Sunday evening.
Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Hoden, Miss Barbara Boden and David Boden were among the guests at the home of Mrs. Laura Bronson on Mother’s day.
No date given but sometime between May 12 and June 9, 1937. Probably June 19th or 26th
The visit of Governor Barzilla W. Clark to the City of Rocks on Tuesday was something of an event in the lives of the foothill folks. Republicans and Democrats alike forgetting politics for once joined to greet him and to help boost for a common cause. The large crowd that met at Register Rock was a typical country gathering. There were farmers, merchants, housewives, school teachers, truck drivers, cow punchers, sheep herders, a bishop an editor, a stake president; and many other occupations were no doubt represented. The governor’s speech showed that he is in favor of developing our scenic attractions to the utmost. One bit of his wisdom could well be remembered: “If we all get behind this thing and push, we can make something out of it.”
It was really amusing to see the road workers hustling to get the roads in shape for the governor’s party. They ran the grader—in fact they had two graders out—put in a culvert and fixed it all up fine. It reminded me of the way our kids go to work when they see us coming over the ridge. Anyway they did an excellent job of improving the roads which are now in better shape than they’ve been for years. Joe Millard probably expressed all our sentiments when he said “Hurrah for the governor! I hope he comes to visit us every other week.”
Miss Mary Sparks while convalescing from a major operation in Salt Lake City fell over a stove door, injuring her legs severely, Blood poisoning set in and it was feared for a while that amputation would be necessary. That danger has passed now however and she is on the high road to recovery. Mary will be unable to return home for at least two months yet. She is staying with friends at 210 Pueblo street.
For the first time in years a pair of pheasants was observed in the Junction valley at Moulton. We hope they increase until there is a large flock.
It now appears that this may be a year when pine nuts are plentiful. If so, there should be enough for all who came to come and get them. If there were only some way to stop those unscrupulous folks who bring an ax, along to chop down the largest and finest trees because they are too lazy to climb all would be well. I suggest a good heavy application of pine gum in their hair for punishment.
June 9, 1938
A couple of young fellows were traveling up Birch creek canyon in a roadster after their thirst had been more or less quenched in town. On the grade along by the Howell ranch, they missed the road slightly and their car rolled down the embankment into the willows and brush below. Although the top of their car and the windshield were smashed as flat as a pancake the boys came out without a scratch. In fact they were apparently improved by the shock.
Following the lead of several hundred other Cassia and Box Elder county folks, we went to Grouse Creek on Thursday to attend the funeral and pay our respects to the family of that fine old gentleman, Bishop David A. Toyn. The great crowd and beautiful flowers were tributes to his memory, and showed the love and esteem in which he was held. Two of the speakers at the funeral were from Oakley, being among that village’s most stalwart citizens. They were William T. Harper and Hogn L. Smith, both of whom are said to be octogenarians: the appearance and ability of each belles this fact, however. The other speaker, Herman Taylor of Almo, was a lifelong friend of the deceased and is son of the man who crossed the ocean on the same ship with Bishop Toyn. The Cemetary in Grouse Creek, where burial was made, has one of the best locations for such a place that I have seen. Though it already looks fairly good it could be made one of the most attractive cemeteries in the west.
Padeen Sherry is visiting at her father’s home in the Cotton Thomas basin for a while. She has been painting and improving the house before she returns to Brigham. Says Tommy, “What th’ell does a woman want to pain a house for unless she’s going to live in it?”
May 26, 1938
A group of youngsters calling themselves the Live Five started a commendable enterprise when they went to the cemetery on Memorial day and did what they could to improve the plot and decorate the long neglected graves there. The adults of our community would do well to follow their example and continue the good work at home as well as in public places
HINT TO DAIRYMEN
When Robert Bronson, aged seven years, was getting ready to milk his cow, he observed: “I don’t think I’d better wear my cap. The cow gives more milk when I wear my old blue hat.”
The Wrigleys have returned to their ranch at Moulton after spending the winter at Woodrow on Rufus Wright’s place.
Crops are looking fine here in the foothills and if the farmers get all the rain they want or ask for, there should be some bumper crops of both hay and grain this year.
DANGER, BEWARE!
Since farming has become the most dangerous occupation, it behooves all of us to try to be careful. Idaho no doubt had its share of the 100,000 accidents that occurred on American farms last year. There is too much high-powered machinery these days, operated by quack mechanics with more confidence than judgment. As yet, science has found no way to replace life or limbs, so don’t take chances on losing them until such a discovery is made.
Vacationists are taking advantage of the improved roads to the City of Rocks. Already there is quite a steady stream of traffic which shows the trend of public opinion. After a while if we could get a senator to visit the region, maybe they would bring a sprinkler up to lay the dust. It may be worth trying.
Mr. and Mrs. Gene Slater made a trip to Oakley Tuesday in their little valley there are at least four or five Model T’s which, according to the population, may be something of a record. Owners of the model T consider it the most (illegible) use and although some of them have other cars, they are still able to find plenty of work for Lizzie.
June 16, 1938
While waiting for the construction of reservoirs and dams by the government for irrigation purposes the farmers were grateful for a couple of showers that fell this week to encourage their crops to grow.
Most of the sheep in this neck of the woods have been sheared; so now instead of being beautiful but dumb they’re just plain dumb.
The Grouse Creek orchestra came over to Lynn to make music for a big hoedown on Tuesday night.
Our staid and practical mail carrier, Ray Bates, has turned romantic and acquired a very charming wife recently. Now we don’t know whether to call this a star route or a honeymoon route.
The trustees of the Moulton school district have hired Floyd Leavitt to teach next term.
Harry Eames, who taught here last school year, has the position of principal of a school at or near Preston.
Mr. and Mrs. Albert Herbold of Paul called on friends here Sunday. Herb was “the professor” here for three years.
June 23, 1938
O Sunday morning a heavy fog enshrouded the valley. It was preceded by a frost which nipped the early gardens, in some cases nearly ruining them. Some of us folks who had just gotten our vegetables planted had been feeling rather ashamed for being so late. After the frost however we perked right up and acted like we knew all the time that it was coming.
Wesley and MaMar Bronson are going into the sheep business via the bum lamb route. They each have a nice bunch of fine-looking lambs. It should be no trick to herd these because like the sheep in the olden days they are educated to follow the shepherd.
A good way to bring on a rain storm, so I’ve heard, is for the farmers to get their hay all mowed and ready to haul. Accordingly a deluge is due any day now as the foothill farmers have started haying.
Clyde Tunks is living on his own place and pasturing cattle this year. Mr Tunks took up his homestead in 1910 and has pastured cattle nearly every year since.
The young trees bought by the school board and planted here this spring are nearly all alive and growing if they can just live through one of our rigorous winters we should have in a very few years the one thing this valley has lacked: some beautiful shade trees.
Nearly every week there is a new applicant for the school. There have been so many excellent appearing young men and women making application that we wish our little one-room school was one of those large modern affairs requiring about ten teachers.
June 30, 1938
On Sunday Mr. and Mrs. Sam Panqitch and their daughter and son-in-law, Indians from Fort Hall, were here in search of deer skins. So we should soon see some new and very ornamental buckskin gloves in this locality.
Mrs. Ghester Bullers served strawberry shortcake made with berries picked from their own patch, which was planted this spring.
A strange passenger hitched a ride on our car as we were returning home on the Birch creek road the other night. A young hawk lit on the front of the car between the lights and rode two or three miles to the cold spring. George got out to fill the radiator and the hawk sat there apparently unafraid, so he thought it was hurt and started to pick it up but it flapped its wings and flew away into the darkness without so much as saying thanks for the ride.
Mr. Russel, government inspector, was here during the latter part of last week to pass on some homesteads that are to be proved up on soon. Wesley Bronson and Gib Lee are the fortunate homesteaders.
This morning (Wednesday) when we woke we found the Indians infallible sign of rain-that is, black all around and pouring down in the middle.
July 7, 1938
A lot of hay is down and being damaged by the frequent rains. It seems that too much moisture after hay is cut is as bad as, or worse than, too little before. Our Almo neighbors have requested the Moulton dry-farmers to please stop praying for rain.
George W. was installed as the new mail carrier on the first of the month. A black cat must have crossed the road in front of him, as he had a tire blowout on the first trip. Ray Bates and wife returned to Oakley at the completion of Ray’s contract.
About ten herds of sheep have passed our place this spring and summer coming into the Junction valley to say nothing of the herds which have entered by other routes. On clear nights the hills resound with their bleating, which is mingled with a chorus of coyotes.
In spite of the recent storms there is a goodly number of visitors to the City of Rocks. Many of them come our way to inquire about roads.
Mrs. Julia Wrigley went to Burley on Friday to attend a double wedding. One of the brides was her first granddaughter, Miss Rosie Herrers.
Three tractors here at Moulton are at work almost daily getting a lot of summer fallowing done. They are improving the farms of Chester Bullers, Carl McBride and George Kirkpatrick.
Mrs Sigrid Magni of the Woodrow district just received a shipment of black Jersey Giant baby chicks. The Magnis will be a good place to eat Thanksgiving dinner.
July 14, 1938
foothill…cce * “”ve. Sh.Ss---
The roads were badly cut up during the rain and would be much improved if the grader were run over them.
Clement Simper has gone to the Beus ranch to help with the haying.
One of the Hultz boys of Smithfield, Utah, nephew of Mr. and Mrs. Chester Bullers, is spending his summer vacation at the Bullers ranch.
Joe Millard took a load of wood to town to sell or trade. As an additional attraction he had a couple of his young milk goats on top of the load. Joe disposed of both goats and wood at the county seat.
We had some unwelcome excitement last week when one of our girls had an attack of appendicitis and it became necessary to rush her to a doctor. Probably because troubles never come singly, the car was out of commission so our neighbors, the Kirkpatricks came to the rescue and took us us to town. The patient, or Laura Pearl, had to stay in Burley for a few days but it was found that an operation was not needed.
July 21, 1938
To the Editor: Did that first line (foothill…cce * “”ve. Sh.Ss---) of my column last week consist of Latin cuss words about the condition of our roads? Thanks for the help if they were.
Rufus Wright still has the buggy in which he and his bride rode to their wedding some twenty years ago. The rig is in constant use and is still in good condition.
On Friday a cloudburst struck our little valley. For a while every hollow became a creek bed and gentle meandering streams were changed to raging torrents. The Raft river was swollen to such proportions that at the Simper ranch the cows which were out in the field had to swim across to get to the corral at milking time.
Visitors at the 24th celebration of Oakley will probably enjoy hamburger made from Junction valley beef. John A. Clark was here this week buying cattle for that purpose.
HERE FOR CELEBRATION
Cordell Stock, who operates an automotive business at Spanish Fork, Utah, is here for the celebration.
July 28, 1938
The Simon Baker children have a two-year-old buck and doe which they raised as orphans. The doe recently gave birth to a pair of very spotted and cute little fawns. In the beautiful green fields surrounding the Baker home this deer family is the picture of contentment.
Daniel Beus, famous sheep and cattle rancher of the Raft River valley, has made several trips to Salt Lake for medical treatment during the past three weeks. Mr. Beus is a stanch friend of the foothill farmers and all are hoping for his prompt recovery.
Fred Bullers and Glen Hultz were requested to fill an old well with dirt. They harnessed up the herd bull, hitched him to a scraper and proceeded to get the work done in double quick time. When they had the cavity nearly filled, the bull stepped into the hole. It took some effort to get him out, but they finally succeeded. Whenever the children go out to the fields to drive the cows in they jump on this animal’s back to ride home.
Molly Baker has returned home from Los Angeles, Calif., where she visited with her sister, Mrs. Anock Evy, and family for a few weeks. Mrs. Baker thinks our valley looks greener than California at present. She also rejoices that we have no fleas here.
U.S. Land Commissioner Earl Whiteley of Oakley was at Moulton and Lynn on Tuesday attending to his radio business.
Mrs. Julia Wrigley had what was practically a family reunion when the twins, Vivian and Viva Egan, and children had spent a few days with their mother. The girls’ husbands, Alvin and Leonard, accompanied by Thelma Herrers, Mrs. Wrigley’s other daughter and her children came up from Burley to take the Egan families home. They all spent the night at the Wrigley ranch and returned to Burley the following day.
Miss Opal McArthur was a Sunday dinner guest of Miss Bernice Tolman.
Mr. and Mrs. Joe Tracy and children of Almo were guests of Mrs. Luella Curtis Friday.
Several Almoites celebrated at Oakley July 22 and 24; several at Rupurt Monday, July 25th.
August 4, 1938
It is canning season and because some fruits are not raised at this high altitude, the foothill harms become a fruit peddler’s paradise. The vicious looking dogs which ordinarily greet strangers are held in restraint to permit the fruit man to deliver his wares to the farm house doors. This being a year when fruit is plentiful, the farm homemakers are getting a large supply, preparing it seems for a long, hard winter.
Lee Kirkpatrick has been suffering from infection in his leg, caused by an insect bite.
Clement Simper has a remarkable looking crop of barley and alfalfa which has been raised this year without irrigation.
Thomas Sherry comes down from his mine to go to town and to hobnob a little with his neighbors. He quotes poems by the dozen. “But” says Mr. Sherry, “my capacity for perception is other than copious.”
George Kirkpatrick with his son Lee and son-in-law Fred Taylor has bought a new harvester. It is a fine looking machine and speaks well for the excellent crop of grain these folks have this year.
Joe Moon who has a fine vegetable garden- divides his good fortune with his neighbors. He is getting some of the ladies to can the surplus vegetavles on shares.
This is said to be rural mail box clean-up week. So Uncle Sam sends out notices to paint, repair or otherwise remodel some of the makeshifts that have been used in the past for mail boxes.
Chester Bullers had a birthday recently. He being around forty years old, some of the neighbors gathered at his home to cheer him up in his old age. After supper the radio was turned off, the rug rolled back in the front room, and everybody danced to the music of the fiddle and guitar.
August 18, 1938
Emery Bates remarked that all WPA workers are experts with a shovel. He says they have mastered every known method of using shovels, including several different ways of leaning on them.
Recent improvement on the Birch creek road consists of the placing of two or three sign boards directing travelers to Emery canyon, City of Rocks, and other places of interest.
The Lind reservoir may be said to be the most popular spot in the foothills this summer. On hot afternoons or evenings almost the entire population can be found taking a dip in this inviting pool. This is the manner in which the sun tan is acquired for which the foothills are famous.
Two combines are at work at Moulton and another expected to start in a day or two. They are speeding up the harvesting of the grain that was untouched by the recent frost.
A livestock buyer from Burley, was trying to purchase some of Mrs. Wrigley’s cattle. When it seemed to take a long time to make the transaction a neighbor remarked: “Maybe this is once that a Jew met a Scot.”
Foothill Fact and Fancies
December 23, 1937
A gentleman from Twin Falls with the mineral interests of this country at heart was prospecting on some of the property northeast of here recently. He found, however, that snow is more plentiful than gold, or whatever he was looking for, so will have to make a more extensive examination of the region in the spring.
Ernie Sparks, mayor of City of Rocks, is probably the only mayor of a large city in the United States who has no housing problem to contend with.
If Charley Johnston’s dude ranch should materialize when and (must we still say if?), we get a highway, he might easily have some competition, as there are a dozen ranches in the region that would be ideal for the purpose. There is the Immigrant Station ranch, owned and operated by Joe Moon who is known to be a sticker. Then there’s the Circle ranch, at present unoccupied but nevertheless a fine location for such a business. The City of Rocks ranch, operated by the city’s enterprising mayor, could easily furnish considerable competition. The Bronson ranch on the Lyman summit is ideally located; and in the same locality is the old Lyman place, operated by that competent cowpuncher and rider, Gib Lee. Mr. Johnston still has the edge on the others, however, as he owns one place in Emery canyon and another in Immigrant canyon adjacent to the Moon ranch. If all these places should choose to run, there would doubtless be plenty of positions open for prospective guides. There might be work for the Oakley Valley chamber of commerce getting sufficient heiresses to be guided.
At the Moulton school’s Christmas program there was the other thing that was nearly as interesting as the school kid’s presentation of the Christmas story in pantomime. That was Roy Eames’ effective use of the sign language.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
January 6, 1938
Joseph Millard is buying the ranch owned by his father, the Baron. By adding this estate to his own, Joe will have one of the prettiest farms in the valley. Since it is located against the western foothills, He (illegible) the first to show the welcome again of spring. It is one of the few places in this part of our community where the hard work and perseverance of the owners has erected a monument of trees. If Mr. and Mrs. Millard have gained by their change of residence, the advantage has been well earned.
SKIING
Two boys with one horse and a pair of skis can have a lot of fun, if one is to judge by “Bud” McBride and Reid Fairchild. These boys are getting out the winters wood and the skiing is by way of recreation. It does seem that we have some advantages, doesn’t it?
Oh-h!
This is a secret, but any woman will tell you that a secret is quite useless if it is untold: The North Enders intend to challenge the South Enders for a rabbit hunt in the near future. Believe me folks, them boys mean business! Watch this column for further particulars, and look out bunnies!
A Thwart Maybe
It looks as though the New Year is to be ushered in with a January thaw. That ought to be Illegal, no we will need to have two thaws this January to pay for the one we missed last year.
(Illegible) of Preventive – for (illegible)
LaMar Bronson was awarded the contract for supplying ten cords of wood to the school district. Glenn Webb is helping LaMar to get the wood out. This big pile of fuel is supposed to keep the “absent minded professor” reminded that we really have winter in the foothills.
New Crop
Chester Bullers always a believer in diversification in his farming, expects to reap a new crop in 1938. If his present developments are successful, this year should bring him a harvest of silver and perhaps other minerals. Mr. Bullers mine is some distance west of his home here.
January 13, 1938
Joe Moon has been staying in Burley for the past few weeks with his wife who is ill. During his absence, Walt is protecting the home place, the old Stage Station, from the ghosts of the Redskins.
The Wrights have moved into the Trunkey house, thus shortening the distance to school by about five miles.
At a party last Friday night at Lynn, Bishop Vance O. Lind gave a laughable impersonation of Major Bowes. Those on whom he called to take part on the program turned out to be typical amateurs.
Ray Bates is wearing a broad grin these days at the thoughts of still being able to carry the mail by car. It’s only fair to warn Ray that this may be only the proverbial calm before the storm, so he can get himself braced for the blizzard that’s bound to come sooner or later.
January 20, 1938
When we went to Oakley on Thursday of last week the general thaw had made the roads so slippery that the trip down Birch creek canyon resembled a ride on one of those whip concerns at a carnival. About the only difference being that it was far more exciting because of the danger of sliding off the grade into the canyon below. Warm as it was, one would hardly enjoy a ducking.
Simon Baker waited one day too long to return home from his latest trip to town. Rain and snow had made the roads so bad that he broke his car down by the Ivan Holt pasture. Although Molly and the twins, Barbara and Kathleen, had to wait for four hours or more while Simon went for help they were still cheerful. Funny how much some folks can go through and still be optimistic.
Artie Bronson of Almo and Mrs. Sara Boden of View were visiting relatives here Sunday. They too had difficulty in making the trip on account of the snow. They were able to return to Almo Monday morning.
January 27, 1938
The boss seems to enjoy a fight. Anyway no one else could get near the radio during that hugging match between Jimmy Braddock and Tommy Farr on Friday night.
Earl Whiteley of Oakley must be a bit of a philanthropist. He deserted his warm fireside and faced the misery one meets on a trip to Lynn to make life more cheery for some of the natives of the foothills. He is installing a wind charger and accessories at the Curtis Nelson home.
Our cats and pigeons are staging quite a contest. We can’t decide whether to kill the cats and save their hides or kill the pigeons to save their lives.
Theo Martindale who is staying at Lynn to help the mail carrier, had to make a trip to Oakley this week to bring back one of their horses that had gotten homesick.
When in Burley recently I felt pretty much at home when some large tumble weeds rolled leisurely down Main street. Another thing which kept me from being lonesome for our own hill country was the fact that three big coyotes just south of town stood and watched us without signs of fear.
Mrs. Ida Moon, wife of Joseph R. Moon, who had been ill for more than a year, passed away at her daughter’s home in Burley, Wednesday, January 19. The funeral was held in the Presbyterian church in Burley, Sunday, January 23. There were a few people from Moulton at the funeral. Mrs. Moon with her friendly, sympathetic manner had endeared herself to all with whom she associated. It is said of her that no day ever passed in which she did not perform some kind act.
February 3, 1938
During this unusual winter the mail carrier has used a sleigh only once I think. The remainder of the time he has gone with a car. This is quite different from his experience last winter when at this time of year he had to get assistance to break a trail to enable him to go with a pack horse.
There has been a large number of absences from school during the past month due to illness. Every one of the thirteen pupils has had his turn at missing school for two or three or a week. Maybe thirteen is an unlucky number.
The Kirkpatricks and Fred Taylor have bought the Bill Merril property here. This includes the Lorin Hendricks place last year and will probably move there in the spring.
Unless the groundhog is blind he will surely see his shadow today (February 2), which is supposed to mean that there will be six more weeks of winter. That won’t be so bad if it’s the kind of winter we’ve been having.
A man from here was talking to one of the gentlemen who had some say-so about roads. “why don’t you do some work on the Birch creek road?” he asked. “Say,” was the answer, “if we had all the money we’ve put on that blankaty-blank, we could have several good roads other places.”
“Well,” replied the greenhorn from the foothills, “if you had put the three thousand dollars that was used to build that atrocity you call a road through Emery canyon, on the Birch creek cow trail, you might have a road there.”
February 10, 1938
We were supposed to be in Burley at 1:00 p.m. to fulfill an appointment, so left home at 10:30 a.m., assuming that would give us plenty of time. “You don’t need chains on this frozen ground.” Advised a kindly friend. We had the pleasure of putting them on in a fifty mile an hour blizzard on the Lyman summit. From there on for about a mile the snow is badly drifted in the roads. We arrived at our destination at 3:00 o’clock. A sign in the office read “Do not stay long. We are very busy,” therefore we cut out call to two and a half hours.
Since the wind has been blowing steadily from the south and southeast for about a week the dry farmers are looking for the storm when it breaks to be a good one. The burning question is; Will we have enough snow to supply moisture for the crops next summer? There is time enough yet.
Can artesian wells be obtained in Junction valley? This question has often been asked. Many people think there is every indication of it, but no one with enough money and faith too has appeared on the scene to prove the theory. One man when asked what he would do with a million dollars if he had it said he would invest it here to build up the country and he felt sure he would double his money. We hope he soon gets the million.
During the past few days from one to three cars have been making the trip to Oakley daily—an indication that the roads are improving. If it’s so that it’s impossible for anything to stand still without either advancing or retrograding, they would simply have to improve.
February 24, 1938
James Rufus Wright, twelve year old son of Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Wright, who died in Burley recently, was a native of the Junction valley. Rufus Wright is a typical southerner and Ethel Sease Wright, Jimmy’s mother, was born in the west. The hospitality of the south and west is confirmed in their home, and it was in such an atmosphere that their son grew.
Jimmy was a cheerful lad and, in spite of the illness he had for a long time he made no complaint, going to school almost till the last. A good conversationalist, he could talk equally well with old or young. He was a youngster with vision and had great hopes for the valley that was his home. The grownup friends of the family who knew him all pronounced him a fine, promising young boy, while among his schoolmates and other friends his age, the verdict is unanimous, “he was a swell kid.”
The funeral was held at the Johnson funeral parlors at Burley, Wednesday, February 16. Speakers were William Barrett of Malts, President Charles S. Clark of the Cassia Stake, and George W. Bronson. Music was furnished by a quartet of Oakley people—Mrs. Bertha Severe, Mrs. Clarissa Rice, George Butler and Grant Severe—and a trip of his schoolmates, the Bronson girls. The quartet sang “My Father Knows” and “I Have Heard of a Land.” The trio sang “nearer, My God, to Thee” and “The Vacant Chair.” Interment was in the Burley cemetery.
Jimmy is survived by his parents and one sister, Edna Mae. There was a large attendance of relatives, friends and former neighbors at the funeral.
March 3, 1938
VANISHING ACTS
Hazel Millard was telling of an occasion when she visited at Kelton. “I’ve never seen that place,” says I. “If you want to see it.: remarked Mother Bronson, “you’d better go before they have another earthquake, or there won’t be anything to see.”
IT’S THE EARLY BIRD
Foothill folks have been getting up in the middle of the night the past week or two when they were going places. Reason: The ground freezes at night and they aim to get wherever they’re going and back home before it has time to thaw in the morning.
WHERE THERE IS SMOKE
No need to get alarmed and call out the fire department if you see smoke pouring out of the “teacherage” these days. Jerry is merely doing his own cooking while his wife visits her folks in Twin Falls for a couple of weeks.
WASTE WATER
It is a tragic fact that every spring hundreds of streamlets carry acres and acres of our fertile mountain soil into creek and river beds. The water itself mostly runs to waste so early in the year. I feel like paraphrasing the famous words of King Richard to read “A reservoir, a reservoir—a kingdom for a reservoir!”
COOPERATION
George and LaMar went to Almo to join Artie and Wesley and Clyde to complete the Bronson Brothers’ orchestra on Washington’s birthday. They played for a successful character ball at Elba that night.
SLOW BUT SURE
Joe Millard’s mule team express is one sure means of transportation these days. They carried Mr. and Mrs. Joe and boys to the Daniel Beus ranch recently to bargain for some hay.
MUD THROWING IN FAIR HERE
With mud practically to his hubs, Ray Bates doesn’t know whether to hope he gets the mail contract for the ensuing four years or to pray that some other poor fellow is the victim. Well, here’s mud in the eye of whoever gets it.
CALIFORNIA VERSES IDAHO
Bishop Vance Lind and family are visiting in California where everything is supposed to be of the very best Even their floods are presumably superior to the Idaho brand. We hope the bishop’s folks can swim.
March 10, 1938
It has been suggested that if the woolgrowers exterminate the coyote, they should also destroy the jack rabbit. The coyote has the one redeeming virtue, that of killing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of these pests while if the jack rabbit has any good traits, I should like to hear about it.
One day not long ago a young man was out hunting rabbits when he found two traps not far apart. The jaws of each held fast in their grip the skeleton of a coyote. A gruesome picture indeed, but a mute testimony of the heartlessness, or maybe just carelessness, of some trapper.
There is still enough frost in the ground to keep the farmers from plowing, but not enough to make the roads fit for travel.
Rufus Wright moved his belongings from the Trunkey place this week. His daughter Edna will be unable to continue in school because of poor health.
The Moulton school plans to beautify the school grounds this spring with trees, shrubs and flowers. This is to be a project of the Good Will club.
March 17, 1938
“Back to School” week is being featured at Moulton this week. Parents and sponsors are invited to attend school all day on Thursday and participate in classes with the youngsters. They are advised however not to try any of the pranks and practical jokes they used to play on their teachers and each other when they were kids. The prof. may know some of those old-fashioned punishments like standing on one leg for half an hour or heavy history book in each hand for the same length of time holding both arms extended with a heavy history book in each hand.
A young man made an effort to get to Almo to take a gal to the dance last Friday night but found the roads too difficult. He tried to console himself with the thought that “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” but he kept adding “Yeah. Of the other fellow.”
Weather prophets claim that because birds are nesting a month earlier than usual a hot dry summer will surely follow. The only comforting thought one can get out of this is that weather prophets are nearly always wrong.
This was in a theme on health recently in school. The organs of indigestion are as follows: (nothing more)
March 24, 1938
On St. Patrick’s Day there was a good attendance of parents and other visitors at the school. The children put on a puppet show for their entertainment entitled, “Three Meals Shorten the Day.” Appearing on the playground and taking part in the games was compulsory. After a few such games as Dare Base there seemed to be an epidemic of rheumatism among the population for a few days. Appropriate songs, poems and Irish jokes were part of the program which ended with refreshments both Irish and American.
We made a trip to Oakley and Burley last week end. Going down the Birch creek canyon and returning by way of Albion, Elba and Almo. This trip should qualify one to direct at least a part of traffic in and out of Junction. The Birch creek road was very rough from being frozen and cut up badly. We had some difficulty over the Albion-Elba road, should have gone around by Malts. The road from Almo past the Old Stage Station ranch was not as bad as we expected. Anyway I hope we can stay home till the roads are better and would advise others to do likewise if possible.
We are just now getting a taste of our long delayed winter, with snow falling nearly every day. It was thought that this could be remembered as the winter of a single blizzard but that hope is shattered now.
March 31, 1938
Four people from Burley, no doubt wishing to be the first visitors of the season to the famous Rock City, made the trip last Sunday. They started with two cars but had to leave one stuck in the mud on the divide. It pays to advertise, only if the good can be delivered. The unfavorable comment on the bad roads to our renowned city will be likely to offset all the good things that can be said of the scenic wonderland. There is only one way that a journey to City of Rocks at this time of year can really be enjoyed—that is by horseback. This I think is the ideal method to use at any time.
A trip with the road grader over the Birch creek road, if made soon while the roads are wet, would do a lot of good. BUT IF THEY WAIT TILL EARLY SUMMER WHEN IT’S AS DRY AS THE SAHARA DESERT, THEY WILL ONLY MAKE A BAD MATTER WORSE BY LOOSENING ALL THE ROCKS IN THE ROADWAY—AS WAS DONE LAST YEAR, THE YEAR BEFORE AND A LOT OF OTHER YEARS BEFORE THAT.
A group of Moultonites went to the home of Joe Moon on Sunday evening and held a cottage meeting, for the purpose of cheering up the owner and occupant of the Stage Station ranch. R. Moon has a picturesque place in a good location. He is doing some painting and making other improvements this spring.
Chester Bullers has been doing quite a lot of work on his mining claims during the winter. Much of the work has been of a preparatory nature, such as making buildings, improving roads, by way of getting ready for a big campaign next fall and winter. Chester feels that the mine is promising.
Little Shirley Taylor is getting to be a big girl now. She celebrated her third birthday anniversary Saturday by being guest of honor at a party given by her mother, Mrs. Fred Taylor. Several little friends helped her set her pretty birthday cake with lots of ice cream.
April 7, 1938
A number of cars have gone to town from the foothills this week. The way folks take my advice about staying at home until roads improve, reminds me of two fellows who had lost some horses—not too far from here. They stopped to ask one of their neighbors if he had seen them. “Why yes.” He said, “they’re right down in that patch of willows,” indicating a place about a mile or two away. As they were leaving, the older of the two men turned his horse in the opposite direction. “Hey,” called his companion, “you’re going the wrong way,”
“Oh no, I’m not” was the answer. “If we go in the opposite direction to what Bill says, we’re sure to find the horses.” And believe it or not, they found them.
The way cream is dropping in price lately makes the farmers in this neck of the woods wonder if it’s because they have more of it to sell this year than usual. One of them was asked, “do you make a good profit from your cow?”
“I barely break even, “ answered the farmer.
“Then why the dickens do you keep so many?”
“Well, they give me a lot of good outdoor exercise."
The first day of April is a poor date for a party, it was decided by the students and teacher. Everybody, thinking it was an April fool’s joke, stayed at home. As there were plenty of refreshments on hand, it’s a question as to who got fooled—those who went to the party or those who stayed away.
Daniel Hues has brought a herd of his sheep into the Junction Valley. They’re lucky to have good sheepskin coats. They’ll need ‘em!
Moultonians listened to the broadcast of the general conference of the L.D.S. church Sunday at the school house.
April 14, 1938
According to Carl McBride who came up from Oakley with some friends, the roads are not as bad as they have been reported. Carl says he will be needing beet thinners in case he has any beets.
A Mr. and Mrs. Jones of Twin Falls visited City of Rocks Tuesday. They consider it superior in scenic beauty to many of America’s widely advertised attractions.
We made a trip to Burley last week end, going by way of Almo. We met quite a few interesting people in Burly: businesslike and sometimes rather impatient county officials and rather impatient county officials; sad employees; polite but slightly contemptuous bank clerks; a judge with words of encouragement; busy doctors; courteous clerks and dozens of other. We drove up to a service station and a young man proceeded to shine up our windows. It’s hard to decide why he took so much time: was it because our glass was very mud splashed, or did the fact that we had one of our daughters in the back seat have anything to do with it? We attended a public land sale in which there seemed to be very little interest, but quite a lot of principal. We saw several of our friends and neighbors from the foothills. I heard a lady remark to another, “My but I’m tired!” I’d rather do a washing than spend a day in town!”
I’d bet my shoes that she was from the country too, because I felt much the same way. We finally arrived home on foot, having to abandon our car in a mud hole a mile away. The walk wasn’t bad but the creek we had to cross was swollen by the spring run-off and woman-like, in attempting to jump across I landed right in the middle. Oh well! We’ve been to town anyway—but thank goodness we’re back home!
April 28, 1938
BABY SAVED FROM DROWNING
Joseph Millard aged two years old, narrowly escaped drowning last week when he fell into Cottonwood creek near the Millard home. Young Henry, age three and a half, ran toward the house screaming and their mother, who was working in the yard, rushed down to the creek and went in after the baby who had risen to the surface. At that point the water was about two and a half feet deep, very muddy, and ice cold—flowing as it does from snowdrifts nearby. It took the mother nearly half an hour to resuscitate the little fellow.
IT IS SPRING!
We know it is spring when myriads of stink bugs come from goodness knows where. When flies, ants and other insects start to making a nuisance of themselves. When we go out to dig in the garden and find millions of wire worms just beneath the surface. (One of our neighbors says these wire worms are one stage in the life cycle of the stink bug, the length of which is seven years. So it looks as if there will be no noticeable decrease in the stink bug population for a while. We realize it’s spring when the farmer, having had a hard time getting his machinery ready to plant his crop finally gets started only to have it commence to pour down the rain. When lambs, calves, chickens or pigs arrive on the only day that there is a blizzard. When the cows going on the grass seed pull up a root of (illegible) or other poison, or some of them get into the alfalfa patch and bloat up like a balloon. When the milk at night has the delicate aroma of wild onions we know that at last it is spring!
HE FOUND IT
George went out to look for some bailing wire (sometimes called Mormon buckskin). After searching for about an hour he decided there was none on the place. After dark as he came toward the house there was a crash that made me think we were having another earthquake. What’s the matter?” I yelled, running outside.
“Nothing!” was the answer, “Only
April 28, 1938
BABY SAVED FROM DROWNING
Joseph Millard aged two years old, narrowly escaped drowning last week when he fell into Cottonwood creek near the Millard home. Young Henry, age three and a half, ran toward the house screaming and their mother, who was working in the yard, rushed down to the creek and went in after the baby who had risen to the surface. At that point the water was about two and a half feet deep, very muddy, and ice cold—flowing as it does from snowdrifts nearby. It took the mother nearly half an hour to resuscitate the little fellow.
IT IS SPRING!
We know it is spring when myriads of stink bugs come from goodness knows where. When flies, ants and other insects start to making a nuisance of themselves. When we go out to dig in the garden and find millions of wire worms just beneath the surface. (One of our neighbors says these wire worms are one stage in the life cycle of the stink bug, the length of which is seven years. So it looks as if there will be no noticeable decrease in the stink bug population for a while. We realize it’s spring when the farmer, having had a hard time getting his machinery ready to plant his crop finally gets started only to have it commence to pour down the rain. When lambs, calves, chickens or pigs arrive on the only day that there is a blizzard. When the cows going on the grass seed pull up a root of (illegible) or other poison, or some of them get into the alfalfa patch and bloat up like a balloon. When the milk at night has the delicate aroma of wild onions we know that at last it is spring!
HE FOUND IT
George went out to look for some bailing wire (sometimes called Mormon buckskin). After searching for about an hour he decided there none on the place. After dark as he came toward the house there was a crash that made me think we were having another earthquake. What’s the matter?” I yelled, running outside.
“Nothing!” was the answer, “Only that I found that wire I was looking for this morning.”
May 5, 1938
SEE CASSIA COUNTY FIRST
If “See America First” is a good slogan, “See Your Own County First” should be a better one. Many people living almost at the gates of City of Rocks know very little about it. We decided that if this wonderland is worth making a trip across the continent to see, surely we should make an effort to visit it more often ourselves. Whereupon we used Mary Lou’s birthday as an excuse to journey through and gaze upon its magic scenes. The fresh odor of mahogany and pine after a gentle shower was exhilarating and the view from the Emery canyon road above the Circle ranch alone is worth many times the sacrifice one might have made in taking the excursion. It’s easy to understand why people who, when on their way into the City of Rocks, sometimes sarcastically inquire why we live in what they choose to call this “godforsaken” country, never repeat the question after they have seen that enchanted area. We ourselves renewed an often affirmed resolution to see Cassia county first—and often.
NO APOLOGY
After going through Emery canyon, I feel that there is no necessity for me to apologize for any statements either made or quoted by me as to the condition of the road. It’s terrible! It was a relief when we arrived on the freshly graded Birch creek road—something like waking up after having had a nightmare.
GATE FACE LIFTED
The Oakley highway officials gave the Birch creek road a much needed beauty treatment when sent the grader over the road last week. The improvement is immense.
MRS. SPARKS FINDS “THE PACK HORSE”
On looking out of her window on the north, Mrs. Ernest Sparks discovered another of the hundreds of marvels of the City of Rocks. On the face of the hill, formed by the white granite rocks and outlined by the cedars, is a large white horse with a pack on its back. It may be a sheep-herder’s or a prospector’s nag, or perhaps the brown saddle bags hold the famous and much sought gold that is said to have been hidden in the rock city. Anyway, it’s interesting to look at and might furnish treasure seekers a new and logical place to search.
MAYOR’S DAUGHTER IMPROVES
Miss Mary Sparks is recovering from a recent operation in the L.D.S. hospital at Salt Lake City.
May 12, 1938
J.R. Stowers received a letter this week from a cousin in Iowa, who had lived with his (Mr. Stowers) father’s family as a child and whom he had not seen or heard from for seventy three years. Mr. And Mrs. Stowers were visiting at the Millard home.
A good soaking rain accompanied by some hail came to the rescue of the foothill dry farmers on Monday.
Karl McBride and Leonard Hunter, who have been staying at the McBride ranch for a while, have almost established a permanent business: that of pulling cars out of the mud, mostly in Emery canyon. So far Leonard hasn’t needed to use any of his magic to supply mud holes enough to keep them busy.
The annual influx of sheep herds is nearly at its height, although the lateness of the season has caused some flock owners to delay their arrival later than usual.
The mothers in the hills received the customary deference and honor on Mother’s day. Special meetings and programs formed a major part of the day’s activities. All the mothers survived the shock and were able to go about their work as usual on Monday.
Mr. and Mrs. Roy Eames and children and Mrs. Julia Eames were callers at the teacher’s home Sunday evening.
Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Hoden, Miss Barbara Boden and David Boden were among the guests at the home of Mrs. Laura Bronson on Mother’s day.
No date given but sometime between May 12 and June 9, 1937. Probably June 19th or 26th
The visit of Governor Barzilla W. Clark to the City of Rocks on Tuesday was something of an event in the lives of the foothill folks. Republicans and Democrats alike forgetting politics for once joined to greet him and to help boost for a common cause. The large crowd that met at Register Rock was a typical country gathering. There were farmers, merchants, housewives, school teachers, truck drivers, cow punchers, sheep herders, a bishop an editor, a stake president; and many other occupations were no doubt represented. The governor’s speech showed that he is in favor of developing our scenic attractions to the utmost. One bit of his wisdom could well be remembered: “If we all get behind this thing and push, we can make something out of it.”
It was really amusing to see the road workers hustling to get the roads in shape for the governor’s party. They ran the grader—in fact they had two graders out—put in a culvert and fixed it all up fine. It reminded me of the way our kids go to work when they see us coming over the ridge. Anyway they did an excellent job of improving the roads which are now in better shape than they’ve been for years. Joe Millard probably expressed all our sentiments when he said “Hurrah for the governor! I hope he comes to visit us every other week.”
Miss Mary Sparks while convalescing from a major operation in Salt Lake City fell over a stove door, injuring her legs severely, Blood poisoning set in and it was feared for a while that amputation would be necessary. That danger has passed now however and she is on the high road to recovery. Mary will be unable to return home for at least two months yet. She is staying with friends at 210 Pueblo street.
For the first time in years a pair of pheasants was observed in the Junction valley at Moulton. We hope they increase until there is a large flock.
It now appears that this may be a year when pine nuts are plentiful. If so, there should be enough for all who came to come and get them. If there were only some way to stop those unscrupulous folks who bring an ax, along to chop down the largest and finest trees because they are too lazy to climb all would be well. I suggest a good heavy application of pine gum in their hair for punishment.
June 9, 1938
A couple of young fellows were traveling up Birch creek canyon in a roadster after their thirst had been more or less quenched in town. On the grade along by the Howell ranch, they missed the road slightly and their car rolled down the embankment into the willows and brush below. Although the top of their car and the windshield were smashed as flat as a pancake the boys came out without a scratch. In fact they were apparently improved by the shock.
Following the lead of several hundred other Cassia and Box Elder county folks, we went to Grouse Creek on Thursday to attend the funeral and pay our respects to the family of that fine old gentleman, Bishop David A. Toyn. The great crowd and beautiful flowers were tributes to his memory, and showed the love and esteem in which he was held. Two of the speakers at the funeral were from Oakley, being among that village’s most stalwart citizens. They were William T. Harper and Hogn L. Smith, both of whom are said to be octogenarians: the appearance and ability of each belles this fact, however. The other speaker, Herman Taylor of Almo, was a lifelong friend of the deceased and is son of the man who crossed the ocean on the same ship with Bishop Toyn. The Cemetary in Grouse Creek, where burial was made, has one of the best locations for such a place that I have seen. Though it already looks fairly good it could be made one of the most attractive cemeteries in the west.
Padeen Sherry is visiting at her father’s home in the Cotton Thomas basin for a while. She has been painting and improving the house before she returns to Brigham. Says Tommy, “What th’ell does a woman want to pain a house for unless she’s going to live in it?”
May 26, 1938
A group of youngsters calling themselves the Live Five started a commendable enterprise when they went to the cemetery on Memorial day and did what they could to improve the plot and decorate the long neglected graves there. The adults of our community would do well to follow their example and continue the good work at home as well as in public places
HINT TO DAIRYMEN
When Robert Bronson, aged seven years, was getting ready to milk his cow, he observed: “I don’t think I’d better wear my cap. The cow gives more milk when I wear my old blue hat.”
The Wrigleys have returned to their ranch at Moulton after spending the winter at Woodrow on Rufus Wright’s place.
Crops are looking fine here in the foothills and if the farmers get all the rain they want or ask for, there should be some bumper crops of both hay and grain this year.
DANGER, BEWARE!
Since farming has become the most dangerous occupation, it behooves all of us to try to be careful. Idaho no doubt had its share of the 100,000 accidents that occurred on American farms last year. There is too much high-powered machinery these days, operated by quack mechanics with more confidence than judgment. As yet, science has found no way to replace life or limbs, so don’t take chances on losing them until such a discovery is made.
Vacationists are taking advantage of the improved roads to the City of Rocks. Already there is quite a steady stream of traffic which shows the trend of public opinion. After a while if we could get a senator to visit the region, maybe they would bring a sprinkler up to lay the dust. It may be worth trying.
Mr. and Mrs. Gene Slater made a trip to Oakley Tuesday in their little valley there are at least four or five Model T’s which, according to the population, may be something of a record. Owners of the model T consider it the most (illegible) use and although some of them have other cars, they are still able to find plenty of work for Lizzie.
June 16, 1938
While waiting for the construction of reservoirs and dams by the government for irrigation purposes the farmers were grateful for a couple of showers that fell this week to encourage their crops to grow.
Most of the sheep in this neck of the woods have been sheared; so now instead of being beautiful but dumb they’re just plain dumb.
The Grouse Creek orchestra came over to Lynn to make music for a big hoedown on Tuesday night.
Our staid and practical mail carrier, Ray Bates, has turned romantic and acquired a very charming wife recently. Now we don’t know whether to call this a star route or a honeymoon route.
The trustees of the Moulton school district have hired Floyd Leavitt to teach next term.
Harry Eames, who taught here last school year, has the position of principal of a school at or near Preston.
Mr. and Mrs. Albert Herbold of Paul called on friends here Sunday. Herb was “the professor” here for three years.
June 23, 1938
O Sunday morning a heavy fog enshrouded the valley. It was preceded by a frost which nipped the early gardens, in some cases nearly ruining them. Some of us folks who had just gotten our vegetables planted had been feeling rather ashamed for being so late. After the frost however we perked right up and acted like we knew all the time that it was coming.
Wesley and MaMar Bronson are going into the sheep business via the bum lamb route. They each have a nice bunch of fine-looking lambs. It should be no trick to herd these because like the sheep in the olden days they are educated to follow the shepherd.
A good way to bring on a rain storm, so I’ve heard, is for the farmers to get their hay all mowed and ready to haul. Accordingly a deluge is due any day now as the foothill farmers have started haying.
Clyde Tunks is living on his own place and pasturing cattle this year. Mr Tunks took up his homestead in 1910 and has pastured cattle nearly every year since.
The young trees bought by the school board and planted here this spring are nearly all alive and growing if they can just live through one of our rigorous winters we should have in a very few years the one thing this valley has lacked: some beautiful shade trees.
Nearly every week there is a new applicant for the school. There have been so many excellent appearing young men and women making application that we wish our little one-room school was one of those large modern affairs requiring about ten teachers.
June 30, 1938
On Sunday Mr. and Mrs. Sam Panqitch and their daughter and son-in-law, Indians from Fort Hall, were here in search of deer skins. So we should soon see some new and very ornamental buckskin gloves in this locality.
Mrs. Ghester Bullers served strawberry shortcake made with berries picked from their own patch, which was planted this spring.
A strange passenger hitched a ride on our car as we were returning home on the Birch creek road the other night. A young hawk lit on the front of the car between the lights and rode two or three miles to the cold spring. George got out to fill the radiator and the hawk sat there apparently unafraid, so he thought it was hurt and started to pick it up but it flapped its wings and flew away into the darkness without so much as saying thanks for the ride.
Mr. Russel, government inspector, was here during the latter part of last week to pass on some homesteads that are to be proved up on soon. Wesley Bronson and Gib Lee are the fortunate homesteaders.
This morning (Wednesday) when we woke we found the Indians infallible sign of rain-that is, black all around and pouring down in the middle.
July 7, 1938
A lot of hay is down and being damaged by the frequent rains. It seems that too much moisture after hay is cut is as bad as, or worse than, too little before. Our Almo neighbors have requested the Moulton dry-farmers to please stop praying for rain.
George W. was installed as the new mail carrier on the first of the month. A black cat must have crossed the road in front of him, as he had a tire blowout on the first trip. Ray Bates and wife returned to Oakley at the completion of Ray’s contract.
About ten herds of sheep have passed our place this spring and summer coming into the Junction valley to say nothing of the herds which have entered by other routes. On clear nights the hills resound with their bleating, which is mingled with a chorus of coyotes.
In spite of the recent storms there is a goodly number of visitors to the City of Rocks. Many of them come our way to inquire about roads.
Mrs. Julia Wrigley went to Burley on Friday to attend a double wedding. One of the brides was her first granddaughter, Miss Rosie Herrers.
Three tractors here at Moulton are at work almost daily getting a lot of summer fallowing done. They are improving the farms of Chester Bullers, Carl McBride and George Kirkpatrick.
Mrs Sigrid Magni of the Woodrow district just received a shipment of black Jersey Giant baby chicks. The Magnis will be a good place to eat Thanksgiving dinner.
July 14, 1938
foothill…cce * “”ve. Sh.Ss---
The roads were badly cut up during the rain and would be much improved if the grader were run over them.
Clement Simper has gone to the Beus ranch to help with the haying.
One of the Hultz boys of Smithfield, Utah, nephew of Mr. and Mrs. Chester Bullers, is spending his summer vacation at the Bullers ranch.
Joe Millard took a load of wood to town to sell or trade. As an additional attraction he had a couple of his young milk goats on top of the load. Joe disposed of both goats and wood at the county seat.
We had some unwelcome excitement last week when one of our girls had an attack of appendicitis and it became necessary to rush her to a doctor. Probably because troubles never come singly, the car was out of commission so our neighbors, the Kirkpatricks came to the rescue and took us us to town. The patient, or Laura Pearl, had to stay in Burley for a few days but it was found that an operation was not needed.
July 21, 1938
To the Editor: Did that first line (foothill…cce * “”ve. Sh.Ss---) of my column last week consist of Latin cuss words about the condition of our roads? Thanks for the help if they were.
Rufus Wright still has the buggy in which he and his bride rode to their wedding some twenty years ago. The rig is in constant use and is still in good condition.
On Friday a cloudburst struck our little valley. For a while every hollow became a creek bed and gentle meandering streams were changed to raging torrents. The Raft river was swollen to such proportions that at the Simper ranch the cows which were out in the field had to swim across to get to the corral at milking time.
Visitors at the 24th celebration of Oakley will probably enjoy hamburger made from Junction valley beef. John A. Clark was here this week buying cattle for that purpose.
HERE FOR CELEBRATION
Cordell Stock, who operates an automotive business at Spanish Fork, Utah, is here for the celebration.
July 28, 1938
The Simon Baker children have a two-year-old buck and doe which they raised as orphans. The doe recently gave birth to a pair of very spotted and cute little fawns. In the beautiful green fields surrounding the Baker home this deer family is the picture of contentment.
Daniel Beus, famous sheep and cattle rancher of the Raft River valley, has made several trips to Salt Lake for medical treatment during the past three weeks. Mr. Beus is a stanch friend of the foothill farmers and all are hoping for his prompt recovery.
Fred Bullers and Glen Hultz were requested to fill an old well with dirt. They harnessed up the herd bull, hitched him to a scraper and proceeded to get the work done in double quick time. When they had the cavity nearly filled, the bull stepped into the hole. It took some effort to get him out, but they finally succeeded. Whenever the children go out to the fields to drive the cows in they jump on this animal’s back to ride home.
Molly Baker has returned home from Los Angeles, Calif., where she visited with her sister, Mrs. Anock Evy, and family for a few weeks. Mrs. Baker thinks our valley looks greener than California at present. She also rejoices that we have no fleas here.
U.S. Land Commissioner Earl Whiteley of Oakley was at Moulton and Lynn on Tuesday attending to his radio business.
Mrs. Julia Wrigley had what was practically a family reunion when the twins, Vivian and Viva Egan, and children had spent a few days with their mother. The girls’ husbands, Alvin and Leonard, accompanied by Thelma Herrers, Mrs. Wrigley’s other daughter and her children came up from Burley to take the Egan families home. They all spent the night at the Wrigley ranch and returned to Burley the following day.
Miss Opal McArthur was a Sunday dinner guest of Miss Bernice Tolman.
Mr. and Mrs. Joe Tracy and children of Almo were guests of Mrs. Luella Curtis Friday.
Several Almoites celebrated at Oakley July 22 and 24; several at Rupurt Monday, July 25th.
August 4, 1938
It is canning season and because some fruits are not raised at this high altitude, the foothill harms become a fruit peddler’s paradise. The vicious looking dogs which ordinarily greet strangers are held in restraint to permit the fruit man to deliver his wares to the farm house doors. This being a year when fruit is plentiful, the farm homemakers are getting a large supply, preparing it seems for a long, hard winter.
Lee Kirkpatrick has been suffering from infection in his leg, caused by an insect bite.
Clement Simper has a remarkable looking crop of barley and alfalfa which has been raised this year without irrigation.
Thomas Sherry comes down from his mine to go to town and to hobnob a little with his neighbors. He quotes poems by the dozen. “But” says Mr. Sherry, “my capacity for perception is other than copious.”
George Kirkpatrick with his son Lee and son-in-law Fred Taylor has bought a new harvester. It is a fine looking machine and speaks well for the excellent crop of grain these folks have this year.
Joe Moon who has a fine vegetable garden- divides his good fortune with his neighbors. He is getting some of the ladies to can the surplus vegetavles on shares.
This is said to be rural mail box clean-up week. So Uncle Sam sends out notices to paint, repair or otherwise remodel some of the makeshifts that have been used in the past for mail boxes.
Chester Bullers had a birthday recently. He being around forty years old, some of the neighbors gathered at his home to cheer him up in his old age. After supper the radio was turned off, the rug rolled back in the front room, and everybody danced to the music of the fiddle and guitar.
August 18, 1938
Emery Bates remarked that all WPA workers are experts with a shovel. He says they have mastered every known method of using shovels, including several different ways of leaning on them.
Recent improvement on the Birch creek road consists of the placing of two or three sign boards directing travelers to Emery canyon, City of Rocks, and other places of interest.
The Lind reservoir may be said to be the most popular spot in the foothills this summer. On hot afternoons or evenings almost the entire population can be found taking a dip in this inviting pool. This is the manner in which the sun tan is acquired for which the foothills are famous.
Two combines are at work at Moulton and another expected to start in a day or two. They are speeding up the harvesting of the grain that was untouched by the recent frost.
A livestock buyer from Burley, was trying to purchase some of Mrs. Wrigley’s cattle. When it seemed to take a long time to make the transaction a neighbor remarked: “Maybe this is once that a Jew met a Scot.”
Friday, September 30, 2011
Foothill Follies/Foothill Fact and Fancies by LouElla Jones Bronson
Foothill Follies
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
May 28, 1937
Busy Season
At this time of year when spring finally arrives, though late, farmers put forth every effort to make the most of a short growing season. In order to get crops planted as quickly as possible, they work early and late. No one on the farm can get enough sleep and the hired man complains that the boss tucks him in on one side of the bed then walks around to the other side and yanks him out again.
Poor Man
A farmer here, probably an ex-cow puncher, hobbled to the house the other day and between groans said to his wife, “That old cow has durn near killed me. I believe she’s broke every bone in my foot.”
“Goodness, that’s too bad,” sympathized his better half. “I suppose she stepped on it and wouldn’t move for half an hour.”
“Well, no,” he admitted, “I was trying to milk the old hussy and she wouldn’t stand still, so I up and kicked her!”
WHO’S WHO IN CASSIA COUNTY
Ethel Bronson aged four has known Dr. C.I.Sater of Malta for a long time but when she met Dr. R.J. Sutton of Oakley she got their names mixed, and calls one Dr. Suter and the other Dr. Satan. The problem is to figure which is which.
(At this point the title of the column changes again...)
FOOTHILL FACTS AND FANCIES
July 29, 1937
WIRE GATES
The other day I had occasion to ride horseback to one of the neighbor’s a distance of about two miles. On this trip it was necessary to open eight or more wire gates, making a total of sixteen times I had to dismount to open and close gates. It seems that no matter what state of dis-repair the ranchers’ fences may be in, they always keep their wire gates mended after a fashion and so tightly closed that it would take a Houdini to get through most of them. AS I was carrying a bushel of grain part of the way back home, by the time I arrived my thoughts about the fellow who invented this typical western monstrosity were anything but complimentary.
HAYMAKING
Wherever one goes lately there is the appealing odor of new mown hay and Junction valley is no exception. Haying is the principal occupation here at present. For recreation and diversion the haymakers have the privilege of loping to shelter during earch of the frequent thunder showers.
BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
An example of the speed with which news sometimes travels in the foothills was shown the other day when Moulton residents heard of the arrival of a baby girl at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Philbert Lind some time in February. This news was special because of the fact that although the young lady is the Linds’ fifth child, she is their first daughter.
CITY SHEEP HERDER
One sheep outfit here seemed to be unable to keep a herder for any length of time, so they were always getting new and inexperienced hands. Once they brought out a man who had always lived in a city and had never before seen a sheep. They put his camp on a mountain meadow near a spring which only needed to be cleaned out. In a couple of days he called at a ranch for a drink and remarked that if his employers didn’t bring him some water he was going to quit. During the conversation that followed he asked the rancher, “what do you suppose makes the sheep run at night?”
“Oh, probably jackrabbits, or maybe a coyote was after them.”
“I know it wasn’t a coyote,” explained the herder. “At least it never killed any, for if it had, the sheep would have yelled bloody murder.”
ACCIDENT
The Vipont truck driver lost control of his truckload of ore on the road this side of the Granit pass. As he bucked over a fence and one or two mountain washes. I assume he was trying to train his steed for the Oakley celebration.
August 12, 1937
PITCHFORK OR PEN
Thinking that bunching and loading hay would be a nice soft job, I tried it for a few days, but came to the conclusion that (Illegible)
Where There is Smoke
The smoky hase that hangs over the foothills these days should remind us that fire is a treacherous villain, traveling fast and far. Though east to (illegible) once it gains headway fire is (illegible) hard to extinguish. A little (illegible) now might prevent many catastophes later.
New Teacher
The current professor of the Moulton district having resigned his position in favor of a larger school, there was a vac ancy in the faculty. This made the board of trustees popular with candidates for the position, and several fine looking young fellows made personal applications. As beign married was one of the requirements, Harry Eames of Elba brought his newly acquired bride along and got the job. Mr. Leavitt will teach at Springdale.
Frost Does Some Good
An early frost did a little damage to some garden crops, but was useful in that it put a slight damper on some annoyances such as mosquitoes and nudists.
Oakley Brevities…
Among the early-timers visiting the home town Sunday were Mr. and Mrs J.L. Webb of Los Angeles, who moved from Oakley 27 years ago: Wallace Craner of Buhl who left 25 years ago: and Nelton Anderson of Twin Falls, who left 15 years ago.
August 19, 1937
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Lightning set fire to a hay stack belonging to Westly and LaMar Bronson Saturday afternoon. Volunteer fire fighters were able to get the blaze under control and save most of the hay.
Jack Haines was knocked for two or three rolls by lightning on the same day at Lynn, Utah. Although Jack was badly shaken he was uninjured.
JUNCTION’S BEST CROP
Last Sunday there were thirty-eight children at church, out of a total attendance of sixty. If we can’t imprt inhabitants for our valley, perhaps we can raise ‘em.
TAME DEER
Edgar Meecham and his eight-year-old son LaVar, who returned to Burley recently after herding sheep in this locality, kept account of the number of deer they saw during the summer. Mr. Meecham counted thirty-nine, while LaVar, who was out only forty-three days, saw twenty. Mr. Meecham states that often the deer would feed around with the sheep without any fear of the herder.
TRAINS AND BUGGY RIDES
Frank Olson’s comment on folks who have seen trains caused me to make some inquiries which brought out the fact that we have a girl eleven years old who has never ridden on a train. However I think we can claim some distinction inasmuch as we’ve all had a buggy ride.
August 26, 1937
ROADS
It’s getting to be about the time of year when someone should start to holler about the Birch creek road, so I might as well be the one to begin. Are we going to be snowbound again this year because our road is ungraded and there are no snow fences? Let us hope something more than growls and threats is done about it this fall.
SCHOOL IMPROVEMENTS
A number of things are being done to the Moulton school house and grounds in the way of improvement: plastering, kalsomining and painting on the inside and fencing, fixing the pump and shed on the outside. Two things will yet be lacking. One is a flag pole and the other a sign giving the name of the school. This latter would give residents some relief from answering tourists who persist in asking, “Where is Moulton?”
RUSHING BUSINESS
In a conversation with an out-of-towner I remarked that it looked as if I would need to go somewhere and work in order to send our girl to highschool.
“Why don’t you go to Almo and send her on the new bus line to Malta?” Asked the O.T.
“What in the world kind of work could I get to do in Almo?”
“Well- you might get a job in one of the beer joints. There’s only three of them, so they are pretty busy.”
September 1, 1937
AUTUMN SIGNS
Some unmistakable signs of approaching autumn may be noticed these days in the foothill country. The mountains seem to recede a little farther in the distance. An increasing number of grain fields are being reduced to stubble; many truckloads of grain steering toward the railroad. Sheep men are commencing to take their flocks from the hills to the lower country and to fields. Activity is increasing around the school houses, with about an equal number of kids looking sad and happy at the prospects of returning to the study of the three r’s. And last but not least that old hen you (illegible) painstakingly about April, giving her the best of care, who hatched out one chick, now struts proudly out in the barnyard, after having (illegible) away, with a breed by twelve or thirteen. It will probably be the latter number on that when they all freeze to death later on you can say that is the reason.
HONEY, AT ANY RATE
Judging from the frequent visit made by a couple of young cubs from Vipont, they must have found a bee tree in Moulton.
DANCE
A shindig of first dimensions were held here Friday night. Floyd Leavitt and Harry Eames, the retiring and this years profs, were the guests of honor. They with their wives and some friends came from Elba. There were also representatives from Almo, Oakley, Burley and Pocatello, Idaho, as well as from Smithfield and Vipont, Utah.
EFFICIENCY
There have been several fires on the hills around us lately, but they have been promptly extinguished. It is said that these fires have been reported by airplane pilots, and forest workers sometimes arrive at the scene within an hour. It’s rather pleasant to contemplate such efficiency, especially in comparison with the carelessness of those who are responsible for starting the fires.
September 16, 1937
MODERN HARVEST
During this harvesting season, on one occasion I had the privilege of riding on a combined harvester and observing at first hand how modern machinery has eliminated labor. Where it used to require fourteen or more men to cut and thresh grain, the work is now done by two, and no doubt it takes less than half the time. One man drives the tractor which pulls the harvester at a speed of about eight miles an hour. The other places the empty sacks on the machine and when they are filled removes them, sews them up, then dumps them off onto the field. The manufacturers thought that this poor fellow had the hardest job, so to compensate him they built for his comfort a very fine upholstered seat. Now, “threshers for dinner” is merely an incident in the farm-wife’s life instead of a great event as it used to be in days gone by.
DING DONG BELL
When one of our little puppies was missing for three days we were at a loss to know what had become of it. On the third day however, when we heard yelps and howls coming from a forty-eight foot well, we were somewhat enlightened. How to get him out was a puzzling question. Boys will be boys you know, but sometimes girls must be boys too. Anyway Laura Pearl went down the well, stepping on a rock curbing, holding to the pipe, and rescued the rash puppy. As this well had gone dry during the depression the pup hardly got his feet wet and aside from an insatiable appetite he was uninjured.
September 23, 1937
ROADS AGAIN
Some work has been done recently on the Birch creek canyon road, but I’m wondering if it will advance as far as the Lyman summit and the Butler lane where some grading should be done and snow fences built to make a passable road this coming winter. This stretch of road has been treated so far like the old fellow’s leaky roof: when it rained he couldn’t fix it and when the sun shone he didn’t need to.
CROSS QUESTIONS
A four year old child asks nearly a thousand questions a day. The fact that about the only answers they receive are “yes, “ “uh-nuh,” and “I don’t know,” never seems to discourage the questioner. Here is a sample or two of the kind I get fired at me regularly: “When will we die?” “Why do we breathe?” “Why can’t you see the air?” Yet there are folks who thinks that a girl needs little if any education in order to raise a family?
LIZZIE SAVES THE DAY
One of our neighbors says his old Model T will run on most anything, but since ours wouldn’t run on milk, this same Model T saved me a walk of about two miles, carrying the milk the car couldn’t eat.
September 30, 1937
With the advent of Clarence Fairchild’s thresher the grain harvesting draws to a close for this season and the farmers are preparing the ground for the crops of another year. Besides the usual crops that are harvested here regularly, one farmer, Raymond Lind, has a new one – timothy seed.
Wood haulers are making their yearly trek to the hills Some report the finding of a few- but very few—pine nuts.
Mrs. Joe Moon won a total of six prizes at the county fair—three firsts and three seconds. The prize winning articles were cakes, rolls, jelly and a dress.
The mail carrier, Vance O. Lind, had a reasonable excuse for being late with the mail on Friday evening late with the mail on Friday evening when he returned in a dashing new car.
The hills are beginning to show the first tints of autumn, on the aspen leaves: although frost visited the lower parts of the valley long ago.
Clyde Tunk was more or less excited when he lost a bunch of the cattle he had been pasturing this summer. However, all’s well that ends well. He found ‘em.
October 7, 1937
We took a ride through the Junction valley one day this week and found that it was well worth our while. The first noticeable thing was the new fence around the Moulton school grounds, and the cement platform which at last supports the wobbly pump.
Down by the Bellinger a coyote scurried across the road, and we wondered if it was one of those that killed six of Rufus Wright’s sheep the other night. As we crossed Raft river, a great blue crane with its long dangling legs flew up near-by. We saw a deer grazing in a field and were very much excited until we discovered that it was nothing but a big billy goat. There were numerous stacks of hay and grain well as many fields and green pastures on which fat cattle, sheep and horses grazed contentedly.
The hills on this day seemed to have reached the height of their beauty, with the yellow of the aspen leaves emphasized by the dark green pines that grow among them. The reservoir built by Lind Brothers about 1921 in this lovely setting is a point of great interest. It is well liked by the wild ducks who seem to think it was made especially for them. The original homestead of John Lind is a very picturesque place with its white farm house and red roof nestled among the trees. A homesteader’s log cabin also with a red roof adds its touch of color and interest to an already interesting scene. A trailer home sitting by the river gave us to understand that although the scenery may be a bit old fashioned, there are modern people behind the scenes.
October 21, 1937
PACIFIERS
The lasts road news I understand is that we are to have a highway through the Junction valley. Now that’s great if and when we get it, but in the meantime the great highways of the future do not cause any road work to be done on the present traffic lanes. You remember, don’t you, when a long time ago folks used to give babies a sort of rubber nipple fastened to a ring, on which his majesty the baby could chew for hours without getting a morsel of nourishment. Sooner or later however, sonny would get wise, slam the thing on the floor, and yell with all the strength of his perful little lungs. Well, something like that is bound to happen when the people refuse to longer be pacified by promises of this or that concerning roads. Then you will doubtless hear hollerin' as is hollerin'.
NEAR CALAMITY
The recent rain nearly washed all us dry-farmers down to Oakley, but a timely frost ame to our rescue—or theirs!
HOW TO CURE SLEEPLESSNESS
A certain Mr. Smith had just returned home from the morning session of quarterly Conference. “Say but wasn’t that a great meeting we had this morning?” he asked my husband and me, who were guests at the Smith home.
“A lot you would know about it.” Remarked his wife, “you slept through the entire services.”
“You bet I did,” agreed the jovial Mr. Smith, “And I’m going back this afternoon, and have it out.”
November 4, 1937
ALONG THE WAY
Some of the things that I’ve see and heard going to and from Oakley recently are these: flower beds in ful bloom, one especially attractive with white flowers on Water street, about a million jack-rabbits scurrying across the road; large flocks of ravens; a dozen sheep outfits moving to the lower country to take advantage of farm fields; road workers going toward Basin; other folks in Oakley going to work before seven a.m. and I’ve heard the train whistling long and loud. Carl McBride quoting Scripture; kids confessing Halloween pranks; and meadowlarks singing as lustily as if it were spring. I’ve felt the chill of winter in the early morning and the heat of summer at midday, I’ve heard airplanes droning overhead and trucks putt-a-putting with their heavy loads out of beet and potato fields. These and dozens of other things make one glad to be alive and to be taking part in the activity that makes the world go round.
ROADS AGAIN
Hope you’ll pardon me for mentioning roads again, but this needs to be told:
Atwin Falls man going to Salt Lake City lost his way in the City of Rocks and wound up here at Moulton to inquire which road to take. After directing him through Emigrant canyon his informer added apologetically, “I’m afraid you’ll find the road a little rough pending the construction of the new highway.”
“No Well the one I came on couldn’t exactly be called a boulevard,” he replied.
November 18, 1937
MOULTON OBSERVES ARMISTICE DAY
Armistice day was suitably remembered at the Moulton school, with speeches, song and stories. Mr. Harmon, who was a soldier during the war, and Mr. Eames, who belonged to the national guard, showed some of the maneuvers a soldier has to learn. The rifle used in the demonstration was a relic of the World war, Chester Bullers, whose brother was killed in the battle of the Argonne, made a speech on “The Results of War.”
George W. Bronson made a speech and dedicated the new flag ple. Mrs. Haight, the county superintendent, arrived just in time for the program and told how the children helped to win the war.
STAKE PRESIDENT VISITS
President John A. Elison of Malta and Bishop John Zollinger of Sublett were visitors at church Sunday. A large congregation heard their advice.
December 2, 1937
We need a telephone line in our own valleys and hills. It would save many a long trip and might even be the means of saving lives. It would be of immeasurable assistance to stockmen and farmers in selling their produce and would help to foster sociability and neighborliness among us. What a boon it would be to the man with a bunch of cattle or hogs or sheep to sell! What a joy to the housewife who merely wants to borrow her neighbor’s sweet pickle recipe or find out how the sick baby is getting along? And of what invalua ble service in case of suddne sickness or accident where minutes saved in getting a doctor might mean the difference between life and death.
Many theories have been advanced for the establishment of a telephone service here. Among them was one brought out by Henry Millar, the Baron Munchausen of Cassia county, who proposed to string the wires along fence posts. This idea was discarded as impractical for various reasons, one of which was doubtless the fact that fences seem to have the habit of disappearing entirely at times in part of the country. Anyway with a cooperative spirit we should eventually have a telephone line in the foothills. The thing that started me to thinking about it was wishing there were a party line for me to listen on and get some news.
The lure of the old homestead brought Mr. And Mrs. Fred Kidman and daughter Oleda back to our valley to look at remembered scenes and chat with old friends, last weekend. They were accompanied by Ashel and Verla Fairchild and children.
Harry and Velma Eames spent the Thanksgiving holiday with “Father Roy’s” family at Elba.
Mr. and Mrs. J.R. Stowers and grandsons Howard and Clyce Haines have been visiting for a while at the Joe Millard home. Joe and howard are working at present on the stake house at Malta.
Those who attended the community dinner and dance on Thanksgiving day were probably all guilty of eating too much in an effort to stow away the enormous quantity of food provided.
December 9, 1937
Butchering time as arrived in the foothills and is at its height now. All animals whose flesh is good for the food of man had better beware.
A heavy fog hangs over the foothills every morning lately. It is a gentle reminder to get prepared for some real winter weather after a while.
When it was decided that the ladies from Moulton should go to Lynn to Relief society meeting, I volunteered to do the driving for the party. It took some tall talking and some coerscion to persuade some of the members to risk their lives that way, but we finally got to our destination okay. The meeting was unusually successful, being a discussion and demonstration of how to make Christmas gifts. At its close, Mrs. Vida Lind, the hostess, served a sumptuous feast. Outside of tearing a yard or two out of the bishop’s fence, hitting most of the ditches and bumps without slowing down, and running into a wild horse—I know the horse was sild for when the car hit his heels, his heels hit somewhere out in space—the ladies voted me a fair driver and were thankful to get back alive.
A Mutual activity meeting is to be held Friday night in the Moulton school house.
Mr. and Mrs. George Kirkpatrick are visiting relatives at Blackfoot.
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
May 28, 1937
Busy Season
At this time of year when spring finally arrives, though late, farmers put forth every effort to make the most of a short growing season. In order to get crops planted as quickly as possible, they work early and late. No one on the farm can get enough sleep and the hired man complains that the boss tucks him in on one side of the bed then walks around to the other side and yanks him out again.
Poor Man
A farmer here, probably an ex-cow puncher, hobbled to the house the other day and between groans said to his wife, “That old cow has durn near killed me. I believe she’s broke every bone in my foot.”
“Goodness, that’s too bad,” sympathized his better half. “I suppose she stepped on it and wouldn’t move for half an hour.”
“Well, no,” he admitted, “I was trying to milk the old hussy and she wouldn’t stand still, so I up and kicked her!”
WHO’S WHO IN CASSIA COUNTY
Ethel Bronson aged four has known Dr. C.I.Sater of Malta for a long time but when she met Dr. R.J. Sutton of Oakley she got their names mixed, and calls one Dr. Suter and the other Dr. Satan. The problem is to figure which is which.
(At this point the title of the column changes again...)
FOOTHILL FACTS AND FANCIES
July 29, 1937
WIRE GATES
The other day I had occasion to ride horseback to one of the neighbor’s a distance of about two miles. On this trip it was necessary to open eight or more wire gates, making a total of sixteen times I had to dismount to open and close gates. It seems that no matter what state of dis-repair the ranchers’ fences may be in, they always keep their wire gates mended after a fashion and so tightly closed that it would take a Houdini to get through most of them. AS I was carrying a bushel of grain part of the way back home, by the time I arrived my thoughts about the fellow who invented this typical western monstrosity were anything but complimentary.
HAYMAKING
Wherever one goes lately there is the appealing odor of new mown hay and Junction valley is no exception. Haying is the principal occupation here at present. For recreation and diversion the haymakers have the privilege of loping to shelter during earch of the frequent thunder showers.
BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
An example of the speed with which news sometimes travels in the foothills was shown the other day when Moulton residents heard of the arrival of a baby girl at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Philbert Lind some time in February. This news was special because of the fact that although the young lady is the Linds’ fifth child, she is their first daughter.
CITY SHEEP HERDER
One sheep outfit here seemed to be unable to keep a herder for any length of time, so they were always getting new and inexperienced hands. Once they brought out a man who had always lived in a city and had never before seen a sheep. They put his camp on a mountain meadow near a spring which only needed to be cleaned out. In a couple of days he called at a ranch for a drink and remarked that if his employers didn’t bring him some water he was going to quit. During the conversation that followed he asked the rancher, “what do you suppose makes the sheep run at night?”
“Oh, probably jackrabbits, or maybe a coyote was after them.”
“I know it wasn’t a coyote,” explained the herder. “At least it never killed any, for if it had, the sheep would have yelled bloody murder.”
ACCIDENT
The Vipont truck driver lost control of his truckload of ore on the road this side of the Granit pass. As he bucked over a fence and one or two mountain washes. I assume he was trying to train his steed for the Oakley celebration.
August 12, 1937
PITCHFORK OR PEN
Thinking that bunching and loading hay would be a nice soft job, I tried it for a few days, but came to the conclusion that (Illegible)
Where There is Smoke
The smoky hase that hangs over the foothills these days should remind us that fire is a treacherous villain, traveling fast and far. Though east to (illegible) once it gains headway fire is (illegible) hard to extinguish. A little (illegible) now might prevent many catastophes later.
New Teacher
The current professor of the Moulton district having resigned his position in favor of a larger school, there was a vac ancy in the faculty. This made the board of trustees popular with candidates for the position, and several fine looking young fellows made personal applications. As beign married was one of the requirements, Harry Eames of Elba brought his newly acquired bride along and got the job. Mr. Leavitt will teach at Springdale.
Frost Does Some Good
An early frost did a little damage to some garden crops, but was useful in that it put a slight damper on some annoyances such as mosquitoes and nudists.
Oakley Brevities…
Among the early-timers visiting the home town Sunday were Mr. and Mrs J.L. Webb of Los Angeles, who moved from Oakley 27 years ago: Wallace Craner of Buhl who left 25 years ago: and Nelton Anderson of Twin Falls, who left 15 years ago.
August 19, 1937
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Lightning set fire to a hay stack belonging to Westly and LaMar Bronson Saturday afternoon. Volunteer fire fighters were able to get the blaze under control and save most of the hay.
Jack Haines was knocked for two or three rolls by lightning on the same day at Lynn, Utah. Although Jack was badly shaken he was uninjured.
JUNCTION’S BEST CROP
Last Sunday there were thirty-eight children at church, out of a total attendance of sixty. If we can’t imprt inhabitants for our valley, perhaps we can raise ‘em.
TAME DEER
Edgar Meecham and his eight-year-old son LaVar, who returned to Burley recently after herding sheep in this locality, kept account of the number of deer they saw during the summer. Mr. Meecham counted thirty-nine, while LaVar, who was out only forty-three days, saw twenty. Mr. Meecham states that often the deer would feed around with the sheep without any fear of the herder.
TRAINS AND BUGGY RIDES
Frank Olson’s comment on folks who have seen trains caused me to make some inquiries which brought out the fact that we have a girl eleven years old who has never ridden on a train. However I think we can claim some distinction inasmuch as we’ve all had a buggy ride.
August 26, 1937
ROADS
It’s getting to be about the time of year when someone should start to holler about the Birch creek road, so I might as well be the one to begin. Are we going to be snowbound again this year because our road is ungraded and there are no snow fences? Let us hope something more than growls and threats is done about it this fall.
SCHOOL IMPROVEMENTS
A number of things are being done to the Moulton school house and grounds in the way of improvement: plastering, kalsomining and painting on the inside and fencing, fixing the pump and shed on the outside. Two things will yet be lacking. One is a flag pole and the other a sign giving the name of the school. This latter would give residents some relief from answering tourists who persist in asking, “Where is Moulton?”
RUSHING BUSINESS
In a conversation with an out-of-towner I remarked that it looked as if I would need to go somewhere and work in order to send our girl to highschool.
“Why don’t you go to Almo and send her on the new bus line to Malta?” Asked the O.T.
“What in the world kind of work could I get to do in Almo?”
“Well- you might get a job in one of the beer joints. There’s only three of them, so they are pretty busy.”
September 1, 1937
AUTUMN SIGNS
Some unmistakable signs of approaching autumn may be noticed these days in the foothill country. The mountains seem to recede a little farther in the distance. An increasing number of grain fields are being reduced to stubble; many truckloads of grain steering toward the railroad. Sheep men are commencing to take their flocks from the hills to the lower country and to fields. Activity is increasing around the school houses, with about an equal number of kids looking sad and happy at the prospects of returning to the study of the three r’s. And last but not least that old hen you (illegible) painstakingly about April, giving her the best of care, who hatched out one chick, now struts proudly out in the barnyard, after having (illegible) away, with a breed by twelve or thirteen. It will probably be the latter number on that when they all freeze to death later on you can say that is the reason.
HONEY, AT ANY RATE
Judging from the frequent visit made by a couple of young cubs from Vipont, they must have found a bee tree in Moulton.
DANCE
A shindig of first dimensions were held here Friday night. Floyd Leavitt and Harry Eames, the retiring and this years profs, were the guests of honor. They with their wives and some friends came from Elba. There were also representatives from Almo, Oakley, Burley and Pocatello, Idaho, as well as from Smithfield and Vipont, Utah.
EFFICIENCY
There have been several fires on the hills around us lately, but they have been promptly extinguished. It is said that these fires have been reported by airplane pilots, and forest workers sometimes arrive at the scene within an hour. It’s rather pleasant to contemplate such efficiency, especially in comparison with the carelessness of those who are responsible for starting the fires.
September 16, 1937
MODERN HARVEST
During this harvesting season, on one occasion I had the privilege of riding on a combined harvester and observing at first hand how modern machinery has eliminated labor. Where it used to require fourteen or more men to cut and thresh grain, the work is now done by two, and no doubt it takes less than half the time. One man drives the tractor which pulls the harvester at a speed of about eight miles an hour. The other places the empty sacks on the machine and when they are filled removes them, sews them up, then dumps them off onto the field. The manufacturers thought that this poor fellow had the hardest job, so to compensate him they built for his comfort a very fine upholstered seat. Now, “threshers for dinner” is merely an incident in the farm-wife’s life instead of a great event as it used to be in days gone by.
DING DONG BELL
When one of our little puppies was missing for three days we were at a loss to know what had become of it. On the third day however, when we heard yelps and howls coming from a forty-eight foot well, we were somewhat enlightened. How to get him out was a puzzling question. Boys will be boys you know, but sometimes girls must be boys too. Anyway Laura Pearl went down the well, stepping on a rock curbing, holding to the pipe, and rescued the rash puppy. As this well had gone dry during the depression the pup hardly got his feet wet and aside from an insatiable appetite he was uninjured.
September 23, 1937
ROADS AGAIN
Some work has been done recently on the Birch creek canyon road, but I’m wondering if it will advance as far as the Lyman summit and the Butler lane where some grading should be done and snow fences built to make a passable road this coming winter. This stretch of road has been treated so far like the old fellow’s leaky roof: when it rained he couldn’t fix it and when the sun shone he didn’t need to.
CROSS QUESTIONS
A four year old child asks nearly a thousand questions a day. The fact that about the only answers they receive are “yes, “ “uh-nuh,” and “I don’t know,” never seems to discourage the questioner. Here is a sample or two of the kind I get fired at me regularly: “When will we die?” “Why do we breathe?” “Why can’t you see the air?” Yet there are folks who thinks that a girl needs little if any education in order to raise a family?
LIZZIE SAVES THE DAY
One of our neighbors says his old Model T will run on most anything, but since ours wouldn’t run on milk, this same Model T saved me a walk of about two miles, carrying the milk the car couldn’t eat.
September 30, 1937
With the advent of Clarence Fairchild’s thresher the grain harvesting draws to a close for this season and the farmers are preparing the ground for the crops of another year. Besides the usual crops that are harvested here regularly, one farmer, Raymond Lind, has a new one – timothy seed.
Wood haulers are making their yearly trek to the hills Some report the finding of a few- but very few—pine nuts.
Mrs. Joe Moon won a total of six prizes at the county fair—three firsts and three seconds. The prize winning articles were cakes, rolls, jelly and a dress.
The mail carrier, Vance O. Lind, had a reasonable excuse for being late with the mail on Friday evening late with the mail on Friday evening when he returned in a dashing new car.
The hills are beginning to show the first tints of autumn, on the aspen leaves: although frost visited the lower parts of the valley long ago.
Clyde Tunk was more or less excited when he lost a bunch of the cattle he had been pasturing this summer. However, all’s well that ends well. He found ‘em.
October 7, 1937
We took a ride through the Junction valley one day this week and found that it was well worth our while. The first noticeable thing was the new fence around the Moulton school grounds, and the cement platform which at last supports the wobbly pump.
Down by the Bellinger a coyote scurried across the road, and we wondered if it was one of those that killed six of Rufus Wright’s sheep the other night. As we crossed Raft river, a great blue crane with its long dangling legs flew up near-by. We saw a deer grazing in a field and were very much excited until we discovered that it was nothing but a big billy goat. There were numerous stacks of hay and grain well as many fields and green pastures on which fat cattle, sheep and horses grazed contentedly.
The hills on this day seemed to have reached the height of their beauty, with the yellow of the aspen leaves emphasized by the dark green pines that grow among them. The reservoir built by Lind Brothers about 1921 in this lovely setting is a point of great interest. It is well liked by the wild ducks who seem to think it was made especially for them. The original homestead of John Lind is a very picturesque place with its white farm house and red roof nestled among the trees. A homesteader’s log cabin also with a red roof adds its touch of color and interest to an already interesting scene. A trailer home sitting by the river gave us to understand that although the scenery may be a bit old fashioned, there are modern people behind the scenes.
October 21, 1937
PACIFIERS
The lasts road news I understand is that we are to have a highway through the Junction valley. Now that’s great if and when we get it, but in the meantime the great highways of the future do not cause any road work to be done on the present traffic lanes. You remember, don’t you, when a long time ago folks used to give babies a sort of rubber nipple fastened to a ring, on which his majesty the baby could chew for hours without getting a morsel of nourishment. Sooner or later however, sonny would get wise, slam the thing on the floor, and yell with all the strength of his perful little lungs. Well, something like that is bound to happen when the people refuse to longer be pacified by promises of this or that concerning roads. Then you will doubtless hear hollerin' as is hollerin'.
NEAR CALAMITY
The recent rain nearly washed all us dry-farmers down to Oakley, but a timely frost ame to our rescue—or theirs!
HOW TO CURE SLEEPLESSNESS
A certain Mr. Smith had just returned home from the morning session of quarterly Conference. “Say but wasn’t that a great meeting we had this morning?” he asked my husband and me, who were guests at the Smith home.
“A lot you would know about it.” Remarked his wife, “you slept through the entire services.”
“You bet I did,” agreed the jovial Mr. Smith, “And I’m going back this afternoon, and have it out.”
November 4, 1937
ALONG THE WAY
Some of the things that I’ve see and heard going to and from Oakley recently are these: flower beds in ful bloom, one especially attractive with white flowers on Water street, about a million jack-rabbits scurrying across the road; large flocks of ravens; a dozen sheep outfits moving to the lower country to take advantage of farm fields; road workers going toward Basin; other folks in Oakley going to work before seven a.m. and I’ve heard the train whistling long and loud. Carl McBride quoting Scripture; kids confessing Halloween pranks; and meadowlarks singing as lustily as if it were spring. I’ve felt the chill of winter in the early morning and the heat of summer at midday, I’ve heard airplanes droning overhead and trucks putt-a-putting with their heavy loads out of beet and potato fields. These and dozens of other things make one glad to be alive and to be taking part in the activity that makes the world go round.
ROADS AGAIN
Hope you’ll pardon me for mentioning roads again, but this needs to be told:
Atwin Falls man going to Salt Lake City lost his way in the City of Rocks and wound up here at Moulton to inquire which road to take. After directing him through Emigrant canyon his informer added apologetically, “I’m afraid you’ll find the road a little rough pending the construction of the new highway.”
“No Well the one I came on couldn’t exactly be called a boulevard,” he replied.
November 18, 1937
MOULTON OBSERVES ARMISTICE DAY
Armistice day was suitably remembered at the Moulton school, with speeches, song and stories. Mr. Harmon, who was a soldier during the war, and Mr. Eames, who belonged to the national guard, showed some of the maneuvers a soldier has to learn. The rifle used in the demonstration was a relic of the World war, Chester Bullers, whose brother was killed in the battle of the Argonne, made a speech on “The Results of War.”
George W. Bronson made a speech and dedicated the new flag ple. Mrs. Haight, the county superintendent, arrived just in time for the program and told how the children helped to win the war.
STAKE PRESIDENT VISITS
President John A. Elison of Malta and Bishop John Zollinger of Sublett were visitors at church Sunday. A large congregation heard their advice.
December 2, 1937
We need a telephone line in our own valleys and hills. It would save many a long trip and might even be the means of saving lives. It would be of immeasurable assistance to stockmen and farmers in selling their produce and would help to foster sociability and neighborliness among us. What a boon it would be to the man with a bunch of cattle or hogs or sheep to sell! What a joy to the housewife who merely wants to borrow her neighbor’s sweet pickle recipe or find out how the sick baby is getting along? And of what invalua ble service in case of suddne sickness or accident where minutes saved in getting a doctor might mean the difference between life and death.
Many theories have been advanced for the establishment of a telephone service here. Among them was one brought out by Henry Millar, the Baron Munchausen of Cassia county, who proposed to string the wires along fence posts. This idea was discarded as impractical for various reasons, one of which was doubtless the fact that fences seem to have the habit of disappearing entirely at times in part of the country. Anyway with a cooperative spirit we should eventually have a telephone line in the foothills. The thing that started me to thinking about it was wishing there were a party line for me to listen on and get some news.
The lure of the old homestead brought Mr. And Mrs. Fred Kidman and daughter Oleda back to our valley to look at remembered scenes and chat with old friends, last weekend. They were accompanied by Ashel and Verla Fairchild and children.
Harry and Velma Eames spent the Thanksgiving holiday with “Father Roy’s” family at Elba.
Mr. and Mrs. J.R. Stowers and grandsons Howard and Clyce Haines have been visiting for a while at the Joe Millard home. Joe and howard are working at present on the stake house at Malta.
Those who attended the community dinner and dance on Thanksgiving day were probably all guilty of eating too much in an effort to stow away the enormous quantity of food provided.
December 9, 1937
Butchering time as arrived in the foothills and is at its height now. All animals whose flesh is good for the food of man had better beware.
A heavy fog hangs over the foothills every morning lately. It is a gentle reminder to get prepared for some real winter weather after a while.
When it was decided that the ladies from Moulton should go to Lynn to Relief society meeting, I volunteered to do the driving for the party. It took some tall talking and some coerscion to persuade some of the members to risk their lives that way, but we finally got to our destination okay. The meeting was unusually successful, being a discussion and demonstration of how to make Christmas gifts. At its close, Mrs. Vida Lind, the hostess, served a sumptuous feast. Outside of tearing a yard or two out of the bishop’s fence, hitting most of the ditches and bumps without slowing down, and running into a wild horse—I know the horse was sild for when the car hit his heels, his heels hit somewhere out in space—the ladies voted me a fair driver and were thankful to get back alive.
A Mutual activity meeting is to be held Friday night in the Moulton school house.
Mr. and Mrs. George Kirkpatrick are visiting relatives at Blackfoot.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Lou Ella Jones Bronson - A Farmer's Wife Looks at Life
A Farmer’s Wife Looks at Life
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
March 26, 1937
Mr. and Mrs. Phil Slater had an alarm clock which had been in use for twenty or more years when they left Junction about six years ago. They had brought it with them when they came here from Slatersville, Utah, and it was still keeping good time when they moved to the flat. If it has stopped during the past six years, that of course can be attributed to the less favorable climate.
In the article concerning the Junction Valley in last week’s paper, the first paragraph should have read “When the Junction valley was filed upon by homesteaders about twenty to twenty-five years ago, there were fifty or more homesteads taken up on the north side of the valley.” The population as given referred only to the Idaho side as there were well over a hundred families in the entire junction.
A meadow lark added a touch of color to a recent blizzard by flitting gaily through the snow, although he couldn’t pluck up enough courage to sing till the storm was over.
The automobiles made their way to Almo by way of Immigrant canyon. One carried Fred Taylor and Lee Kirkpatrick while the passengers in the other were Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Leavitt. Mrs. Leavitt, who has been ill with flu stayed with her folks at Elba.
One trip with the grader for whatever implement is used to scrape snow out of the roads) would make the road between Oakley and the Utah line passable for cars. This service would be appreciated my many of our residents.
April 2, 1937
A real curiosity was seen here this spring when a white hawk flew across the valley. It is not known whether it is an albino of some of the species that inhabit this part of the country of if there is a breed of white hawks. If there is, the one that was seen here was probably migrating to some other locality. The hawk was alone and flying from east to west.
William L. McKnight of American Falls was out last week looking over the Raft river oil wells site with some of the stockholders. Mr. McKnight thinks the project should not be abandoned until they have dug at least to a depth of a thousand feet. It was in 1918 that the Oasis Oil Company started digging in that locality for oil. After sinking the well to a depth of nearly five hundred feet the digging operations stopped either for lack of funds or lack of oil prospects. For several years a watchman has had a lien on the derrick and machinery which has prevented the company from moving them. It is reported. Last winter this watchman, it is said, was accidentally killed while visiting friends so that now the company is at liberty to remove their machinery, which they probably intend to do.
A fact which may not be generally known is that when the first school was held at Moulton, there was no school house, so Bob Griffith allowed the district to use the new log house he had built for a residence for a temporary school house. Mrs. Mabyl Ross, wife of Sam Ross, was the teacher. This was in 1911 and those who attended were four Maulton children, four Harwood children, two Murrays, a niece and nephew of Joseph Moon and it is thought that four Hansen youngsters went too.
The Rosses lived just over the line in Utah and Mr. Ross, Moulton’s first mail carrier, brought the mail from Almo. Each morning he would bring Mrs. Ross to school, a distance of about four miles. The next year the men of Moulton got out logs and built the present school house across the road from the temporary building and school has been held here every year since.
April 9, 1937
Stretching and yawning drowsily I glanced at the window. It’s just beginning to get light, so there’s time to sleep another hour at least I thought; when suddenly rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat, came a sound so startling that I sprang out of bed instantly, thinking we were being attacked by gangsters with machine guns. I had to laugh when the sound was repeated and I recognized Mr. Woodpecker announcing his return for the summer. There was no use trying to sleep in all that noise, so I dressed and walked out to enjoy the spring morning. A pleasant melody greeted my ears, for a brush warbler sat on a nearby bush and sang merrily of how wonderful it is just to be alive on such a fine day. When he passed, his mate answered from a distance with music so sweet that I felt as if I were being lifted from my feet. I was quickly brought back to earth however with a harsh “quack, quack.”
Turning, I saw a saucy magpie sitting on a post holding the dish from which he had just finished a hearty breakfast. Bothe food and dish were a product of our farm, which out to prove at least that Mr. Magpie is a booster for his home town.
Just then a handsome fellow with a yellow vest and black necktie took his stand on a neighboring post and announced cheerfully, “It’s time to get up. It’s a beautiful day.”
As I felt happy, I whistled an answer to him. “Grandma, whistle again,” he ordered.”
“Now don’t be impudent, young smart aleck,” I told him. By now a pair of blue birds had started their day’s work and were talking contentedly together as they flew back and forth with bits of dry grass bark and string, to a house that had been built especially for them. “Cr-r-ree, cr-r-ree.” As I went to feed the chickens a flock of pigeons circled around my head and as they alighted to eat they were joined by a pair of mourning doves. A robin sang “Cheer=up, cheer-up.” A killdeer flew overhead and called his name loudly. As I turned to go into the house, friend meadow lark said, “Junction’s a wonderful place, and I agreed that it does have its advantages.
April 16, 1937
Smoky, a pet Maltese cat belonging to Jimmy and Edna Wright turned out to be quite a sleuth. The Wright children with their mother have been staying near the Moulton School for about a month. Smoky had been missing from the home place for three or four days when suddenly he showed up at their temporary residence six miles distant.
One motorist made an unsuccessful attempt to cross the Lyman summit this week. Though it is urged that Oakley is the logical trade center for this valley, the bad road conditions are the cause of lots of people going to other places that are more accessible to cars.
This is the season of the year when many useful hawks are killed because of the general belief that their main diet is chicken and turkey. These birds destroy enough rodents for the average farmer each year to earn a chicken dinner occasionally. They also sometimes kill an animal which is preying on the poultry flock and for whose depredations the hawk is often blamed. For the farmer to shoot every hawk he sees might be termed “biting off his nose to spite his face.”
The egg producers have caught the fever that is spreading throughout the country and are starting a sit-down strike. These sit-downers have tried the method before and found that they are usually able to raise their pay. As a rule no attempt is made to end such strikes but several effective methods have been developed. One which is a favorite is to hold the striker’s head under a stream of running water. This makes the sit-downer fighting mad and probably brought about the saying, “as mad as a wet hen.”
OAKLEY RESERVOIR REPORTED AT 61 FEET APRIL FIFTEENTH
Oakley reservoir was reported at 61 feet Thursday, April 15. Storage was 14600 acre feet. A year ago the gauge height was 55 feet with 11930 acre feet storage. Water is coming into the reservoir a great deal more slowly than at this time a year ago.
April 23, 1937
On Saturday the annual school election was held to decide who would be the new trustees. While the dads and moms deliberated inside the school house on weighty matters of business, they missed the excitement that was going on outside in the form of a scrap among the kids. One girl had to admit shamefacedly that she had blacked a small boy’s eye. The trouble was finally settled by arbitration.
The new board of trustees consists of George Kirkpatrick, George Bronson and Chester Bullers. Floyd Leavitt has been hired to teach the school again next year.
Phil Slater has brought his large herd of cattle into the valley to be fed the seventy tons of hay that he raised here last summer.
There was a time during one of the driest years, when it was thought that all the vegetation had been burned up. Mrs. Sarah Hunt who was living here then took her Sunday school class for a short walk; and they counted thirty-three varieties of plant life in less than half a mile, bringing back specimens for proof.
It seems good to see the mail carrier using a car once more over the entire route. Chester Bullers, the mail man to take a car out last winter, was the first to venture crossing Lyman ridge this spring with one.
At this time of year the bellowing of cows, bawling at calves, pigs squealing, lambs bleating, cackling and clucking of hens, peeping of young chicks and turkeys are only a few of the sounds that make music for the farmer. And yet city folks complain of the silence of the country.
Moulton
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
May 7, 1937
Blizzards during the latter part of April in this locality are not unusual, but the latest one was works than ordinary. A hen with eleven chicks, unlucky enough to be out, was buried under about two feet of snow. They were not dug out until the next day, but seemed none the worse for the experience.
Our rough roads may be a blessing in disguise. At least they discourage the speed mania that many motorists seem to envelop the instant they strike a highway or a stretch of good road. Automobile accidents are practically unheard of here.
Wesley Bronson and party had the sad experience of being the first on the scene of the recent accident between Oakley and Burley and took the fatally-injured girl to Burley hospital.
Nameless
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
Will someone suggest a name for my column? “Hash” makes the editor sick. “The Farmer’s Wife Looks at Life” makes me sick and the rest of the column probably makes everyone else sick.
Mr. Leavitt took his lone eighth-grader to Malta to take the county exams Tuesday. Chester Bullers has added the Kidman property to his holdings here. He has two hired men and himself hustling early and late getting his crops planted.
George Kirkpatrick and Fred Taylor made a business trip to Twin Falls Wednesday. These folks figure on buying a tractor, in order to speed up the spring work.
The school kids planned a surprise on their teacher on Thursday night. They were themselves surprised upon arriving rather late to find that the Ward games were played, after which refreshments were served. Everyone had a good time. Mrs. Ward has taught this class of students several years ago.
A good crowd attended the dance here Friday night. The music was furnished by Glen Bates. This orchestra will play for another dance here June 4. Everybody welcome.
Mr. and Mrs. Charles Johnston of Oakley spent Saturday and Sunday at Almo.
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
March 26, 1937
Mr. and Mrs. Phil Slater had an alarm clock which had been in use for twenty or more years when they left Junction about six years ago. They had brought it with them when they came here from Slatersville, Utah, and it was still keeping good time when they moved to the flat. If it has stopped during the past six years, that of course can be attributed to the less favorable climate.
In the article concerning the Junction Valley in last week’s paper, the first paragraph should have read “When the Junction valley was filed upon by homesteaders about twenty to twenty-five years ago, there were fifty or more homesteads taken up on the north side of the valley.” The population as given referred only to the Idaho side as there were well over a hundred families in the entire junction.
A meadow lark added a touch of color to a recent blizzard by flitting gaily through the snow, although he couldn’t pluck up enough courage to sing till the storm was over.
The automobiles made their way to Almo by way of Immigrant canyon. One carried Fred Taylor and Lee Kirkpatrick while the passengers in the other were Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Leavitt. Mrs. Leavitt, who has been ill with flu stayed with her folks at Elba.
One trip with the grader for whatever implement is used to scrape snow out of the roads) would make the road between Oakley and the Utah line passable for cars. This service would be appreciated my many of our residents.
April 2, 1937
A real curiosity was seen here this spring when a white hawk flew across the valley. It is not known whether it is an albino of some of the species that inhabit this part of the country of if there is a breed of white hawks. If there is, the one that was seen here was probably migrating to some other locality. The hawk was alone and flying from east to west.
William L. McKnight of American Falls was out last week looking over the Raft river oil wells site with some of the stockholders. Mr. McKnight thinks the project should not be abandoned until they have dug at least to a depth of a thousand feet. It was in 1918 that the Oasis Oil Company started digging in that locality for oil. After sinking the well to a depth of nearly five hundred feet the digging operations stopped either for lack of funds or lack of oil prospects. For several years a watchman has had a lien on the derrick and machinery which has prevented the company from moving them. It is reported. Last winter this watchman, it is said, was accidentally killed while visiting friends so that now the company is at liberty to remove their machinery, which they probably intend to do.
A fact which may not be generally known is that when the first school was held at Moulton, there was no school house, so Bob Griffith allowed the district to use the new log house he had built for a residence for a temporary school house. Mrs. Mabyl Ross, wife of Sam Ross, was the teacher. This was in 1911 and those who attended were four Maulton children, four Harwood children, two Murrays, a niece and nephew of Joseph Moon and it is thought that four Hansen youngsters went too.
The Rosses lived just over the line in Utah and Mr. Ross, Moulton’s first mail carrier, brought the mail from Almo. Each morning he would bring Mrs. Ross to school, a distance of about four miles. The next year the men of Moulton got out logs and built the present school house across the road from the temporary building and school has been held here every year since.
April 9, 1937
Stretching and yawning drowsily I glanced at the window. It’s just beginning to get light, so there’s time to sleep another hour at least I thought; when suddenly rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat, came a sound so startling that I sprang out of bed instantly, thinking we were being attacked by gangsters with machine guns. I had to laugh when the sound was repeated and I recognized Mr. Woodpecker announcing his return for the summer. There was no use trying to sleep in all that noise, so I dressed and walked out to enjoy the spring morning. A pleasant melody greeted my ears, for a brush warbler sat on a nearby bush and sang merrily of how wonderful it is just to be alive on such a fine day. When he passed, his mate answered from a distance with music so sweet that I felt as if I were being lifted from my feet. I was quickly brought back to earth however with a harsh “quack, quack.”
Turning, I saw a saucy magpie sitting on a post holding the dish from which he had just finished a hearty breakfast. Bothe food and dish were a product of our farm, which out to prove at least that Mr. Magpie is a booster for his home town.
Just then a handsome fellow with a yellow vest and black necktie took his stand on a neighboring post and announced cheerfully, “It’s time to get up. It’s a beautiful day.”
As I felt happy, I whistled an answer to him. “Grandma, whistle again,” he ordered.”
“Now don’t be impudent, young smart aleck,” I told him. By now a pair of blue birds had started their day’s work and were talking contentedly together as they flew back and forth with bits of dry grass bark and string, to a house that had been built especially for them. “Cr-r-ree, cr-r-ree.” As I went to feed the chickens a flock of pigeons circled around my head and as they alighted to eat they were joined by a pair of mourning doves. A robin sang “Cheer=up, cheer-up.” A killdeer flew overhead and called his name loudly. As I turned to go into the house, friend meadow lark said, “Junction’s a wonderful place, and I agreed that it does have its advantages.
April 16, 1937
Smoky, a pet Maltese cat belonging to Jimmy and Edna Wright turned out to be quite a sleuth. The Wright children with their mother have been staying near the Moulton School for about a month. Smoky had been missing from the home place for three or four days when suddenly he showed up at their temporary residence six miles distant.
One motorist made an unsuccessful attempt to cross the Lyman summit this week. Though it is urged that Oakley is the logical trade center for this valley, the bad road conditions are the cause of lots of people going to other places that are more accessible to cars.
This is the season of the year when many useful hawks are killed because of the general belief that their main diet is chicken and turkey. These birds destroy enough rodents for the average farmer each year to earn a chicken dinner occasionally. They also sometimes kill an animal which is preying on the poultry flock and for whose depredations the hawk is often blamed. For the farmer to shoot every hawk he sees might be termed “biting off his nose to spite his face.”
The egg producers have caught the fever that is spreading throughout the country and are starting a sit-down strike. These sit-downers have tried the method before and found that they are usually able to raise their pay. As a rule no attempt is made to end such strikes but several effective methods have been developed. One which is a favorite is to hold the striker’s head under a stream of running water. This makes the sit-downer fighting mad and probably brought about the saying, “as mad as a wet hen.”
OAKLEY RESERVOIR REPORTED AT 61 FEET APRIL FIFTEENTH
Oakley reservoir was reported at 61 feet Thursday, April 15. Storage was 14600 acre feet. A year ago the gauge height was 55 feet with 11930 acre feet storage. Water is coming into the reservoir a great deal more slowly than at this time a year ago.
April 23, 1937
On Saturday the annual school election was held to decide who would be the new trustees. While the dads and moms deliberated inside the school house on weighty matters of business, they missed the excitement that was going on outside in the form of a scrap among the kids. One girl had to admit shamefacedly that she had blacked a small boy’s eye. The trouble was finally settled by arbitration.
The new board of trustees consists of George Kirkpatrick, George Bronson and Chester Bullers. Floyd Leavitt has been hired to teach the school again next year.
Phil Slater has brought his large herd of cattle into the valley to be fed the seventy tons of hay that he raised here last summer.
There was a time during one of the driest years, when it was thought that all the vegetation had been burned up. Mrs. Sarah Hunt who was living here then took her Sunday school class for a short walk; and they counted thirty-three varieties of plant life in less than half a mile, bringing back specimens for proof.
It seems good to see the mail carrier using a car once more over the entire route. Chester Bullers, the mail man to take a car out last winter, was the first to venture crossing Lyman ridge this spring with one.
At this time of year the bellowing of cows, bawling at calves, pigs squealing, lambs bleating, cackling and clucking of hens, peeping of young chicks and turkeys are only a few of the sounds that make music for the farmer. And yet city folks complain of the silence of the country.
Moulton
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
May 7, 1937
Blizzards during the latter part of April in this locality are not unusual, but the latest one was works than ordinary. A hen with eleven chicks, unlucky enough to be out, was buried under about two feet of snow. They were not dug out until the next day, but seemed none the worse for the experience.
Our rough roads may be a blessing in disguise. At least they discourage the speed mania that many motorists seem to envelop the instant they strike a highway or a stretch of good road. Automobile accidents are practically unheard of here.
Wesley Bronson and party had the sad experience of being the first on the scene of the recent accident between Oakley and Burley and took the fatally-injured girl to Burley hospital.
Nameless
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
Will someone suggest a name for my column? “Hash” makes the editor sick. “The Farmer’s Wife Looks at Life” makes me sick and the rest of the column probably makes everyone else sick.
Mr. Leavitt took his lone eighth-grader to Malta to take the county exams Tuesday. Chester Bullers has added the Kidman property to his holdings here. He has two hired men and himself hustling early and late getting his crops planted.
George Kirkpatrick and Fred Taylor made a business trip to Twin Falls Wednesday. These folks figure on buying a tractor, in order to speed up the spring work.
The school kids planned a surprise on their teacher on Thursday night. They were themselves surprised upon arriving rather late to find that the Ward games were played, after which refreshments were served. Everyone had a good time. Mrs. Ward has taught this class of students several years ago.
A good crowd attended the dance here Friday night. The music was furnished by Glen Bates. This orchestra will play for another dance here June 4. Everybody welcome.
Mr. and Mrs. Charles Johnston of Oakley spent Saturday and Sunday at Almo.
Monday, September 19, 2011
One Last Serving of Hash by Lou Ella Jones Bronson
Hash
March 26, 1937
A much needed improvement in the roads between here and Oakley is the erection of snow fences to prevent the drifts from piling so deeply in the roads during some of the winter months. Much of the land on which these fences would be built is unimproved pasture land. Therefore they could be permanent in most places. The work, whether it were a WPA or county road project, should be given to men of the Junction Valley. The cost of labor would be almost the only expense,, as all materials for a permanent snow fence are available near the places where thye are needed. If the roads were graded, tht too would help to keep them open to traffic throughout the yuear. Our neighbors on the north would undoubtedly boost for such a project as it would help to bring additional trade to their community.
A well planned program honoring St. Patrick was given at the Moulton school house Sunday. As one of the songs advised we are all Irish on St. Patrick’s day; and it it’s true that the Irish are noted for their tempers, it seems to me that most of us are more or less Irish all the time.
Chester Bullers has been assembling some of his loaned out farm machinery preparatory to starting spring farming; while Mrs. Bullers is already planning her vegetable garden- one that is usually hard to excel.
Rufus Wright thinks he will be able to plow next week, if it doesn’t snow another foot.
George Bronson who was hauling hay from the City of Rocks recently, spent a pleasant evening at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Sparks.
When the snow is melting and water running everywhere, one feels that it would be wonderful if all the water that goes to could be saved and made available to farmers later in the season. Many times, crops that fail to mature could be saved with a good irrigation. This has been accomplished in some places and many some time become a reality here and in other localities where it is not yet practiced.
LaDell Wrigley was looking at a horse’s eye that had been injured. “Well, sir,” said he, “the eye is the tenderest part of the body. I guess, unless it’s the crazy bone.
March 26, 1937
A much needed improvement in the roads between here and Oakley is the erection of snow fences to prevent the drifts from piling so deeply in the roads during some of the winter months. Much of the land on which these fences would be built is unimproved pasture land. Therefore they could be permanent in most places. The work, whether it were a WPA or county road project, should be given to men of the Junction Valley. The cost of labor would be almost the only expense,, as all materials for a permanent snow fence are available near the places where thye are needed. If the roads were graded, tht too would help to keep them open to traffic throughout the yuear. Our neighbors on the north would undoubtedly boost for such a project as it would help to bring additional trade to their community.
A well planned program honoring St. Patrick was given at the Moulton school house Sunday. As one of the songs advised we are all Irish on St. Patrick’s day; and it it’s true that the Irish are noted for their tempers, it seems to me that most of us are more or less Irish all the time.
Chester Bullers has been assembling some of his loaned out farm machinery preparatory to starting spring farming; while Mrs. Bullers is already planning her vegetable garden- one that is usually hard to excel.
Rufus Wright thinks he will be able to plow next week, if it doesn’t snow another foot.
George Bronson who was hauling hay from the City of Rocks recently, spent a pleasant evening at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Sparks.
When the snow is melting and water running everywhere, one feels that it would be wonderful if all the water that goes to could be saved and made available to farmers later in the season. Many times, crops that fail to mature could be saved with a good irrigation. This has been accomplished in some places and many some time become a reality here and in other localities where it is not yet practiced.
LaDell Wrigley was looking at a horse’s eye that had been injured. “Well, sir,” said he, “the eye is the tenderest part of the body. I guess, unless it’s the crazy bone.
LouElla Jones Bronson Column
Several months ago my Uncle Simon handed me an old, tattered Book of Remembrance filled with photocopies of the Column his mother (my grandmother) wrote. He asked me if I would be interested in typing it up. Since I was in the midst of Graduate School at the time, I assurred him that I would, but it may take a while. Well, here it is! Well, part of it. This is the first installment of many. Grandma's column evolved over the years. It started out titled, 'Hash'.
Hash
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
November 6, 1936
Say, it was indeed generous and kind of the Democrats that they did not, as one commentator stated, “gloat over the poor Republicans”. Perhaps the “poor Republicans don’t understand the meaning of that word, “gloat.”
Well, now that the big excitement has subsided, we can settle back to normal and continue the routine of living much the same as usual, with hopes for a bright future. Next Friday is the 13th, a combination that creates a hoodoo for lots of superstitious folks. A friend of mine once had a flock of turkeys, and when she set them she numbered them consecutively one, two, three, etc. When it came to number thirteen she would leave that out, instead giving them the distinction, twelve one, twelve two, fourteen and so on. If I remember correctly, when hatching time arrived number twelve two hatched not a single egg and twelve one sat on her next and starved to death. Instead of convincing my friend that there was really nothing in the thirteen superstition, she was only more sure that the unlucky number had been the ruin of both turkeys.
So if you think thirteen and Friday are unlucky, I’d advise you not to let any black cats pass in front of you, don’t walk under any ladders, and it might be well to carry a rabbit’s foot on that day at least.
An old gentleman who used to live in this part of the country had for years worn a heard. Finally he decided to shave, so one day a friend met him and after staring at his face he remarked rather rudely:
“Well, sir isn’t it surprising how much ugliness a beard can cover up.”
I thought of that when a fresh sparkling blanket of snow covered the barren ugliness which Jack Frost has left in his wake for a few days.
Friday, November 13, 1936
Although Armistice Day will be passed by the time you read this, it will not hurt any of us to recall that important event. Those of us who are old enough remember those hectic days during the war when our best orators in stirring terms appealed to the patriotism of the citizens of the united States; urging them to send their finest young men far across the ocean, to fight in a war in which we should have had no more interest than we have in the present European conflict. But the boys went gaily and jauntily while we cheered them on. Only those who had sons, husbands of brothers at the front know with what fear and anxiety the casualty lists were searched each day and only those who experienced it know the heart-rending anguish that came with the finding of the name of a loved one in the list of dead or missing. How happy we were on that autumn day in 1918 when we heard that on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month hostilities would cease. Remember the joy when the boys returned; the sorrow for those who remained on Flanders Field; and those who came back maimed or crippled. Strange that time should so soon erase these things from our memories and that they are so seldom mentioned that a ten-year-old child has to ask (as one asked me recently) “What is Armistice day?”
This has been National Education week and it is said that thousands of parents would visit the public schools this week. Doubtless other thousands never think to visit the schools where their children receive their education, during this week or any other week. Teachers should invite the parents of the pupils to visit the school twice or three times during the school term and parents should accept those invitations. You are likely to learn more about the progress of your child in one visit than the report cards you ever read could tell you. And incidentally, we might absorb some of the information that is being dispensed to our children- which probably wouldn’t hurt any of us.
A couple of years ago it seemed to me that the word “thrill” was being overworked. So when our five-year-old daughter used it to describe some excitement she’d had, I thought it was time to find out if she knew what it meant so I said, What is a thrill Georgie?”
(Illegible)
(Note from Lollie, If you know the rest of the story, please post!!! I'm dying to know the cute little retort from my Aunt Georgie!)
November 20, 1936
If a new highway is built through our valley via the old Immigrant canyon, I wonder if any of us who travel that route occasionally will be alive to enjoy the luxury of riding on it. We certainly won’t if we persist in traveling on that road as it now is. Those old timers who traveled that way long ago and who were in fear of being ambushed by the Indians were in but a little more danger. They merely faced the possibility of losing their scalps while their modern descendants risk being shaken into a million pieces.
There is, near the spot where the old City of Rocks stage station stood, an ideal place for a dude ranch, tourist cabins, etc. A spring which does not dry up makes water available at all times This land, which is owned at present by Charles Johnston, will someday, if a highway is built through it, help its owner to make a small fortune.
As soon as hay fever season is over, it seems that the cold-catching season is in; so that, for some folks, life is just one big sneeze after another.
November 27, 1936
While stuffing yourself with stuffed turkey on Thanksgiving Day did you (illegible)___ pause to think of how many (illegible)_____ you had to be thankful for? It would not hurt any of us. In fact it would be profitable to stop and reflect much oftener than once a year on the many causes we have for Thanksgiving. Take friendship for just one example: What would you take for the confidence and esteem of your friends. Of course you can place no price on them for they are invaluable.
There should be some law. If only the law of human kindness, to compel trappers to visit their traps daily. Many valuable domestic animals are crippled and killed each year by being caught and held in traps, sometimes for days. It is pitiful to see good dogs or sheep with a foot missing. And no conscientious person would use those horrible devices of torture with diamond teeth which invariably cause the death of any poor animal they chance to catch. Even the wily coyote, for which I have no love at all, deserves a kinder death than that.
It is interesting to see how some people (perhaps all of us) imagine they are hurrying when standing with a door open. They will stand and talk for an hour with the door ajar whereby if you asked them to step in and shut the door they just would have time. This characteristic is especially noticeable in the winter time. In fact they’re likely to act just contrary in the summer, and step inside closing the door very carefully when it’s a hundred and ten in the shade.
December 4, 1936
Well! Well! What strange sights one will see at times! The other day in Burley I saw a big Indian chief in full regalia, including a headdress of brilliant feathers, who was driving a large, shiny new auto. He was doing it very efficiently, too, as Indians seem to do almost everything they undertake.
Have you ever heard of the River of Rocks in Junction Valley? No? Well neither had I till a young lady from Lynn described it to me recently. This strange phenomenon of nature is located about two miles from Raymond Lind’s place. I intend to see this rare formation next spring when nature is at its best. Then if you haven’t seen it first perhaps I’ll try to tell you about it in more detail.
The road between our valley and Almo has at last been given a fitting name by one of our residents. The title is Forgotten Road. Upon first thought I could not recall that any work had ever been done on this road, but by questioning other residents with better memories it was found that at one time we actually had a road supervisor here- strange as this may seem to some of us now- and has made some changes and some much needed improvements in the road then. This credit is due Gordon Edwards who was the said supervisor when he lived among us. However all traces of any improvements have been erased by time and erosion. Last summer some tourists stopped to inquire the route to City of Rocks. They said if the rest of the road was as bad as that over which they had come from Oakley, they believed they would turn around and go back. Well if one were truthful he could but admit it was ten times worse. But far be it from any of us to be the cause of any one’s missing the thrill of seeing that wonderful city for the first time, so of course on such occasions very little is said about road conditions, and a great deal about the marvelous sights at the end of the road.
December 25 1936
The report that more than three thousand young pines were taken from our valley for Christmas trees this year, seems rather alarming to me. Although a few have been removed in former years, no such great number as this have been taken before. If those who profit by this business appreciate the value of it to such an extent that they inagrate a system of reforestation, no harm will be done. But if on the other hand a similar number were removed each year, without systematic replacement, in a (illegible) reality where pines are not very plentiful, there would soon be a serious shortage. The pines, in addition to their beauty and usefulness for lumber for various purposes, form a growth which is one of the best of watersheds. Because of the scarcity of water in this valley this is an important consideration.
An even greater crime than taking young pines for Christmas trees is committed every year by careless sheepherders and others, who set fires which burnt over hundreds of acres. As fire isn’t particular what sort of fuel it has, every type of growth goes before it, including the pines and other trees; sometimes even the farmer’s hard-earned crops are burned.
Isn’t it swell to be living in the good old U.S.A. where, although we may make some mistakes in government, we still have common sense enough not to do such an uncommon place thing as to banish our first citizen and probably greatest leader, because of his desire to marry the woman of his choice?
There are many other reasons, too. That cause one to rejoice because of being a citizen of the best nation on the earth. One of them is the fact that there is a big ocean or two between us and the fireworks on the eastern hemisphere. May they always keep their distance well.
The spirit of Christmas is again abroad in the land. What a lot of good would result if we were all able to carry out the generous desires this fine spirit brings us. Some folks are eternally embarrassed because they receive gifts and cannot return them each year. Ah, if they only knew it they could make as much happiness for the giver by receiving the gift graciously, as if they were in a position to return each remembrance with one a little better. At least I am still optimistic enough to think that most people believe this saying in the Good Book: It is more blessed to give than to receive. Folks get real lasting joy from giving. But to make this Christmas happier than usual, try putting a little extra emphasis on the “thank you.”
My wish for each of you is; that you may have this year the merriest Christmas you’ve ever had enjoy health and prosperity during 1937.
January 8, 1937
Rich Whittaker was telling of an experience with one of Keogh’s wild steers. As he was walking along one day one of the long-horned critters attacked him. The only protection he could see was a rather big willow bush. By the time he reached it, the steer was right at his heels. When he had made a few turns around the bush he decided he would have to stop to consider, the steer no doubt having a kind streak in its nature, stopped too.
Thought Rick, “I don’t believe it would be any crime if I’d shoot that beast. It’s no better than any other wild animal that would attack a man.” But on second thought he decided it was too valuable an animal for him to do such a ruthless thing. So when the steer started after him again, he circled the willow a few more times. Once more when he was about to drop from exhaustion he stopped. The beast again allowed him a short breathing spell.
“By golly, I will shoot the brute.” Said Rich to himself. “But no,” he reconsidered. “Mr. Keogh has never done me any harm. I must not serve him such a trick as that.” So Rich climbed into the willow and stayed till the steer left. After telling this he asked a friend “George, what would you have done in that case?”
“I think I’d have killed the critter,” replied George.
“You bet,” answered Rich, “and so would I if I’d only had my gun along.”
January 15, 1937
It’s getting to be about time that all our New Year’s resolutions should be, according to nearly all past experience, either broken, cracked or at least very badly bent. Well, perhaps now we can go peacefully on through the remainder of 1937 without having to hear that remark which all “revolutionists” hate – “I thought you had resolved…”
It’s a sturdy and staunch soul indeed who can faithfully keep a New Year’s resolution for an entire month. My sincere and heartfelt congratulations to any of you who are still carrying on. May success finally be yours.
The mail carriers are very popular fellows in these rural districts where folks are practically snowed in for sometimes three or four months out of the year. Ever accommodating and considerate, they bring a bit of cheer to one and all. Even when he brings nothing more interesting than a price list from some fur house, the mail carrier is greeted with pleasure. On the gloomiest days when blizzards rage outside, we look forward to seeing at least this one person abroad and rarely if ever does he fail us. Occasionally one may hear a few minor complaints about the mail carrier, but never do we hear the mail carrier’s complaints about his patrons. I’d like to hear a list of them, wouldn’t you? They would no doubt be enlightening. It has been said of one man who carried mail on the route for four years that there was not the faintest murmur against him. With a reputation like that, it’s no wonder he never tries to get the job again. Not telling what might happen another time.
There is an old saying that has been repeated often: a poor man has two dogs, a darn poor on has three, and a rich man doesn’t have any. If this is true, the poverty of some folks is positively beyond description. After they’ve had the much-talked-of rabbit drive, it might be well to have a dog drive too.
January 22, 1936
Although the complaints of mail carriers are as rare as roses in January, here is one which was found “hidden among the stuff.” With apologies to the author of “Strawberry Roan.”
Mail Carrier’s Lament
I was out on my farm and a trapping coyotes
When along comes a Senator looking for votes.
Sez I, “You can have mine and all I can mail
If you’ll get me a job a hauling the mail.”
He says, “Okay, pardner, that job you may land
If you and your friends will but lend me a hand,”
Sez I, “It’s a deal.” In my jitney I hop
And I drive in to Oakley with never a stop.
“I signs up the papers and seals ‘em up tight.
Then for once in my life I sleep through the night.
But it doesn’t take long before Even I see
That some (illegible)ded a fem ….me.
The roads they are awful could rarely be worse
No words can describe then politely in verse
Every kind of mail box en sues on this route
From a blue bird’s abode to an old rubber boot.
In a big syrup can I must dig in the snow
For the flag is raised up so a letter must go
When I get to the bottom I find without fail
That nothing is there but last Friday’s mail
One guy orders freight, half a ton, less or more
He wants it delivered right up to his door
I charge him two bits, be grumbles at that
He sez “You’re a robber --- you’d steal a man’s hat.”
For a long list of groceries one fellow does send.
Says he, “We’re right out, so on you we depend
The baby needs shoes and my wife she is ill
And the doctor prescribed for her this special pill
We are needing some flour and sugar and tea
Some bags of potatoes at least two or three.
But if one of these items you’d happen to miss,
I’ve sent for Bull Durham – be sure and get this
I must trudge through a blizzard and four feet of snow
My horses so weary they scarcely can go
But I’m warmed by the thought as I plod through the cold
I’m praised for my service by both young and old.
My joy comes to naught in a very short time
For here are six letters and one measly dime
The fellow who wrote ‘em has three sections of range
And he asks me to mail them and bring him the change
Kind friends, let me tell you, this job is no snap.
For every bouquet there is many a rap
So the next time a congressman’s looking for votes
I shall stick to my farm and trapping coyotes.
January 29, 1937
“Don’t you nearly die of loneliness?” is a question that is asked of rural folks more often than any other by urbanites who visit in the country. The almost invariable reply is, “I’m too busy to get lonesome.”
“I don’t see what you can find to occupy your time.” The city dweller will remark. This amuses any farmer or farmer’s wife who can scarcely crowd, into even the longest days of the year, more than half the things that need to be done. In fact about the only time a country person ever feels lonely is when duty or pleasure takes him to the city. There, freed from the responsibilities to which he has been accustomed, the surrounded by hundreds of people, he may really be lonesome- an emotion unknown to him in his country.
In the commencement of this cold spell, when the sun arose one morning there were two very brilliant sundogs. Later in the day a huge double ring encircled the sun; and in the evening as the sun was setting the sundogs again appeared. These signs, said some of the self-appointed weather prophets, were a sure indication of severely cold weather. Well, maybe they are but it seems to me that during the summer months when similar phenomena occurred, it was claimed then that they foretold intense heat. It’s getting so that the only weather forecast one can really believe is that of the old Indian who said he knew only one sure sign of rain. “And what is that?” he was asked.
“When it’s black all around and pouring down in the middle.” He replied.
The other night when I saw a large bonfire coming up the road toward me I was startled, to say the least. However, as is the case with most mysteries, the solution to this one was simple enough. Once I had learned it. During the coldest weather we’ve ever known here, some of the boys have originated a unique method of keeping warm while riding in a sleigh. They make a fire in a galvanized tub and take plenty of wood along to keep it replenished.
An occasional intrepid flyer still dares to wing his lonely way across our wind-swept, snow-covered hills to give us just a fleeting-glimpse of the hurry, bustle and excitement of the busy world outside.
Fred Taylor and Lee Kirkpatrick showed more hardihood than most of our residents by bucking the snowdrifts to Oakley this week. Fred lost considerable weight from having to walk so much to keep warm, and so fast to keep up with Lee.
February 5, 1937
I am a hollyhock fan. When a friend said last summer, “My flower garden is a failure – nothing is blooming but the hollyhocks.” I felt sorry for her, even though my sorrow was mixed with envy. Perhaps my love of these old-fashioned flowers might be traced by a psychologist back to childhood days when I spent many happy hours at my grandmother’s, making dolls with gorgeous glowing gowns and colorful parasols from these brilliant posies.
When the earth is covered with a sparkling white blanket and the mercury is wavering from zero to way below, it’s pleasant to think of delightful summer scenes. One of the most inspiring views in summer is that which meets the eye on making the last turn on the road to Vipont mine. No matter how often I travel that road, the beauty of that wonderful landscape makes me catch my breath for sheer joy to wish that I were an artist with the ability to reproduce on canvas those beautifully molded hills and the delicate coloring of the trees and shrubbery which grace them. I wish that everyone in the world could gaze upon that inspiring scene. It would not hurt anyone and would surely do a lot of people good.
February 12, 1937
The question of whether Mr. Ground Hog saw his shadow on his annual day this year was answered most emphatically by the blizzard which has raged for the past few days. He did.
The Moulton Lynn mail was held up – but not robbed – by bad roads last week. The mail carrier left for Oakley on Wednesday as usual but because of the storm and road conditions he was unable to return until Saturday. People were beginning to fear for his safety, so when he pulled in everybody heaved a big sigh of relief. There was such a blizzard Monday that he did not even attempt to start from Lynn.
The big measles scare seems to be over, the two youngest Benson children being the only victims of the disease, now we can sing that old vaudeville chorus:
Because we’ve all had ’em. We’ve all had ‘em
Some folks turn up their nose and say, “Oh, my!”
But we’ve all had ‘em, we’ve all had ‘em.
And you who haven’t had ‘em.
You will have ‘em bye and bye.
Mr. Leavitt has needed a magnifying glass to see his school; it has been so small the past two or three weeks.
Two holidays in three days! I think February is the only month which can claim such distinction.
Today, February 12, the one hundred twenty-eighth anniversary of his birth, we do honor to one of the greatest men who ever lived – our own Abraham Lincoln. Memories of this great American are both pleasant and sad. The sorrow of course being because of his tragic and untimely death. I think all Americans love and revere him, but all too seldom to we read and ponder on his life and works. Many stories of his life have been written and one at least would be told each year by young and old. He only lived and died that “government of the people, by the people and for the people, might not perish from the earth.”
Valentine day seems to be an occasion when young folks especially send to each other such love-lade greetings as this one expressed by a picture of a young farmer with an armful of vegetables who says; “I wouldn’t carrot all to live without you, my valentine.”
Or this one. A young fellow mowing a lawn with hearts scattered all about says to his valentine, “I love you ‘mower’ each day.
February 19, 1937
Some blackbirds have spent the winter here, one pair at least becoming somewhat domesticated, so that they go into the barn and eat with the pigeons. At present the blackbirds are even tamer than the pigeons. Many birds would spend the winters here if they were provided with shelter and food. I for one would like to see some trees growing around more of the homes to help encourage our feathered friends to take up their abode here.
A good work is being done by some of the men folks here in getting rid of many of the jackrabbits, and as the rabbit skins are a good price at present, those who obtain them are paid in more ways than one. It is regrettable that others do not join in helping exterminate these pests. More than five hundred skins have been obtained by two hunters who have used some of their spare time during the past month in this manner.
Visiting the sick on skis, though probably not a new thing, is a novelty here. That was the method used recently by Mr. and Mrs. Chester butlers to reach the Joe Moon ranch where Mrs. Moon has been ill for some time.
Though the roads are very bad and the cold has been extremely sever, there is not as much snow here as last winter. Also last year, because of several warm spells, the snow settled and contained much more water than the same depth this year would have.
March 12, 1937
Mrs. Joseph Moon, who has been seriously ill for some time, accompanied her daughter Mrs. McAllister and Mr. McAllister to a Burley hospital last week. The McAllister’s came via Almo in a car as far as the mouth of Immigrant canyon. From there the snow was too deep for an automobile, so they started out on foot, but were met by Mr. Moon in a sleigh. Though Mrs. Moon has lived here but a short time she has made many friends, all of whom wish her a speedy recovery.
Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Leavitt and Lamar Bronson went to Almo on horseback to attend the gold and green ball. The Leavitts then went to Elba by motor to visit relative there. On Sunday the entire party returned with a sleigh.
Rufus Wright, with the help of Ray Roberts the mail carrier, took his turkeys to Twin Falls to sell them. George Bronson accompanied them to Burley. These folks too made use of sleighs and a car on their trip.
There seems to be fad or something for using two or three methods of transportation on each trip these days. It is hoped though that this won’t be necessary much longer: In fact, the past few days have been so warm that some are even daring to hope that spring might come eventually.
March 12, 1937
The pupils are all again in attendance at school. Many books are being toted home by reluctant youngsters who must catch up on lessons that have been missed.
A pair of blue birds are said to be building a nest in the attic of the Buller's house. Many more pairs are moving into the apartments they occupied last year.
Another sure sign of spring was noted by a Moulton resident when he saw a flock of geese flying northward over our valley.
I.R. Stowers is now visiting his daughter, Mrs. Joe Millard, and family. When Mr. Stowers was asked if he and Mrs. Stowers intend to remain in Idaho, he answered, “We couldn’t find a better place.”
LaDell Wringley, who went to Lynn, Utah, for a load of hay, found the sleigh roads not so good. The snow being gone about half the way.
(From Last week)
Blue birds, robins and blackbirds are all daring to face the wrath of that grim old tyrant, Winter, who has ruled the land for the past few months. These cheery messengers of spring keep popping up here and there in spite of an occasional furious blast by north Wind. The chief commander of King Winter’s forces.
Our school gave additional proof of the adage that good things are done up in small parcels when on Washington’s birthday, a party and program was enjoyed by a few of the parents and patrons, Although the program was one of those surprise affairs, it would have been a credit to a much larger school.
March 19, 1937
The Junction Valley
Twenty-Five Years Ago and Now
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
When the Junction valley was filed on by homesteaders about twenty to twenty-five years ago, there were fifty or more homesteads taken up on the side of the valley. The population was around one hundred eighty. For several years very intensive farming was done and nearly all available ground was cleared for raising hay and grain. The valley was almost entirely covered with well cultivated fields. Visitors were greatly impressed with the bounteous crops. Some things which were raised successfully were wheat, barley, oats, rye, flax, corn, alfalfa and sweet clover. Besides these general farm crops some excellent truck gardens were produced, these provided their owners with all sorts of vegetables. Some small fruits such as currants, gooseberries, dewberries and raspberries were grown. Mrs. Harwood canned thirty quarts of dew berries from her few bushes one year.
All this man-made beauty looked better than the original beauties of nature to most people, but alas for its permanence! Whereas nature’s grandeur had remained the same or improved probably for centuries in this wonderland, when man came he destroyed much of the natural beauty, substituting the things that he desired to make money. Then as the land, being farmed constantly and sometimes unwisely, ceased to produce as much as some would have liked, they, instead of blaming themselves, condemned the country and left.
Many of the things which nature had placed here in such rich abundance had been destroyed. Weeds, brought mostly by man, along with some of the more hardy natural plants took the place of the beautiful fields of hay and grain. Now only a few families remain and a comparatively small amount of the land is under cultivation; most of the remainder produces abundant crops of sage brush, Russian thistle, June grass, lots of native plants, and jackrabbits. It would if given the chance bring f forth a variety of the growths which helped to make this a haven of peace and beauty. Man if he would have it restored must help to replace some of the plants, but he would, if he did so, be amply repaid for every bit of effort put forth in this direction.
Hash
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
November 6, 1936
Say, it was indeed generous and kind of the Democrats that they did not, as one commentator stated, “gloat over the poor Republicans”. Perhaps the “poor Republicans don’t understand the meaning of that word, “gloat.”
Well, now that the big excitement has subsided, we can settle back to normal and continue the routine of living much the same as usual, with hopes for a bright future. Next Friday is the 13th, a combination that creates a hoodoo for lots of superstitious folks. A friend of mine once had a flock of turkeys, and when she set them she numbered them consecutively one, two, three, etc. When it came to number thirteen she would leave that out, instead giving them the distinction, twelve one, twelve two, fourteen and so on. If I remember correctly, when hatching time arrived number twelve two hatched not a single egg and twelve one sat on her next and starved to death. Instead of convincing my friend that there was really nothing in the thirteen superstition, she was only more sure that the unlucky number had been the ruin of both turkeys.
So if you think thirteen and Friday are unlucky, I’d advise you not to let any black cats pass in front of you, don’t walk under any ladders, and it might be well to carry a rabbit’s foot on that day at least.
An old gentleman who used to live in this part of the country had for years worn a heard. Finally he decided to shave, so one day a friend met him and after staring at his face he remarked rather rudely:
“Well, sir isn’t it surprising how much ugliness a beard can cover up.”
I thought of that when a fresh sparkling blanket of snow covered the barren ugliness which Jack Frost has left in his wake for a few days.
Friday, November 13, 1936
Although Armistice Day will be passed by the time you read this, it will not hurt any of us to recall that important event. Those of us who are old enough remember those hectic days during the war when our best orators in stirring terms appealed to the patriotism of the citizens of the united States; urging them to send their finest young men far across the ocean, to fight in a war in which we should have had no more interest than we have in the present European conflict. But the boys went gaily and jauntily while we cheered them on. Only those who had sons, husbands of brothers at the front know with what fear and anxiety the casualty lists were searched each day and only those who experienced it know the heart-rending anguish that came with the finding of the name of a loved one in the list of dead or missing. How happy we were on that autumn day in 1918 when we heard that on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month hostilities would cease. Remember the joy when the boys returned; the sorrow for those who remained on Flanders Field; and those who came back maimed or crippled. Strange that time should so soon erase these things from our memories and that they are so seldom mentioned that a ten-year-old child has to ask (as one asked me recently) “What is Armistice day?”
This has been National Education week and it is said that thousands of parents would visit the public schools this week. Doubtless other thousands never think to visit the schools where their children receive their education, during this week or any other week. Teachers should invite the parents of the pupils to visit the school twice or three times during the school term and parents should accept those invitations. You are likely to learn more about the progress of your child in one visit than the report cards you ever read could tell you. And incidentally, we might absorb some of the information that is being dispensed to our children- which probably wouldn’t hurt any of us.
A couple of years ago it seemed to me that the word “thrill” was being overworked. So when our five-year-old daughter used it to describe some excitement she’d had, I thought it was time to find out if she knew what it meant so I said, What is a thrill Georgie?”
(Illegible)
(Note from Lollie, If you know the rest of the story, please post!!! I'm dying to know the cute little retort from my Aunt Georgie!)
November 20, 1936
If a new highway is built through our valley via the old Immigrant canyon, I wonder if any of us who travel that route occasionally will be alive to enjoy the luxury of riding on it. We certainly won’t if we persist in traveling on that road as it now is. Those old timers who traveled that way long ago and who were in fear of being ambushed by the Indians were in but a little more danger. They merely faced the possibility of losing their scalps while their modern descendants risk being shaken into a million pieces.
There is, near the spot where the old City of Rocks stage station stood, an ideal place for a dude ranch, tourist cabins, etc. A spring which does not dry up makes water available at all times This land, which is owned at present by Charles Johnston, will someday, if a highway is built through it, help its owner to make a small fortune.
As soon as hay fever season is over, it seems that the cold-catching season is in; so that, for some folks, life is just one big sneeze after another.
November 27, 1936
While stuffing yourself with stuffed turkey on Thanksgiving Day did you (illegible)___ pause to think of how many (illegible)_____ you had to be thankful for? It would not hurt any of us. In fact it would be profitable to stop and reflect much oftener than once a year on the many causes we have for Thanksgiving. Take friendship for just one example: What would you take for the confidence and esteem of your friends. Of course you can place no price on them for they are invaluable.
There should be some law. If only the law of human kindness, to compel trappers to visit their traps daily. Many valuable domestic animals are crippled and killed each year by being caught and held in traps, sometimes for days. It is pitiful to see good dogs or sheep with a foot missing. And no conscientious person would use those horrible devices of torture with diamond teeth which invariably cause the death of any poor animal they chance to catch. Even the wily coyote, for which I have no love at all, deserves a kinder death than that.
It is interesting to see how some people (perhaps all of us) imagine they are hurrying when standing with a door open. They will stand and talk for an hour with the door ajar whereby if you asked them to step in and shut the door they just would have time. This characteristic is especially noticeable in the winter time. In fact they’re likely to act just contrary in the summer, and step inside closing the door very carefully when it’s a hundred and ten in the shade.
December 4, 1936
Well! Well! What strange sights one will see at times! The other day in Burley I saw a big Indian chief in full regalia, including a headdress of brilliant feathers, who was driving a large, shiny new auto. He was doing it very efficiently, too, as Indians seem to do almost everything they undertake.
Have you ever heard of the River of Rocks in Junction Valley? No? Well neither had I till a young lady from Lynn described it to me recently. This strange phenomenon of nature is located about two miles from Raymond Lind’s place. I intend to see this rare formation next spring when nature is at its best. Then if you haven’t seen it first perhaps I’ll try to tell you about it in more detail.
The road between our valley and Almo has at last been given a fitting name by one of our residents. The title is Forgotten Road. Upon first thought I could not recall that any work had ever been done on this road, but by questioning other residents with better memories it was found that at one time we actually had a road supervisor here- strange as this may seem to some of us now- and has made some changes and some much needed improvements in the road then. This credit is due Gordon Edwards who was the said supervisor when he lived among us. However all traces of any improvements have been erased by time and erosion. Last summer some tourists stopped to inquire the route to City of Rocks. They said if the rest of the road was as bad as that over which they had come from Oakley, they believed they would turn around and go back. Well if one were truthful he could but admit it was ten times worse. But far be it from any of us to be the cause of any one’s missing the thrill of seeing that wonderful city for the first time, so of course on such occasions very little is said about road conditions, and a great deal about the marvelous sights at the end of the road.
December 25 1936
The report that more than three thousand young pines were taken from our valley for Christmas trees this year, seems rather alarming to me. Although a few have been removed in former years, no such great number as this have been taken before. If those who profit by this business appreciate the value of it to such an extent that they inagrate a system of reforestation, no harm will be done. But if on the other hand a similar number were removed each year, without systematic replacement, in a (illegible) reality where pines are not very plentiful, there would soon be a serious shortage. The pines, in addition to their beauty and usefulness for lumber for various purposes, form a growth which is one of the best of watersheds. Because of the scarcity of water in this valley this is an important consideration.
An even greater crime than taking young pines for Christmas trees is committed every year by careless sheepherders and others, who set fires which burnt over hundreds of acres. As fire isn’t particular what sort of fuel it has, every type of growth goes before it, including the pines and other trees; sometimes even the farmer’s hard-earned crops are burned.
Isn’t it swell to be living in the good old U.S.A. where, although we may make some mistakes in government, we still have common sense enough not to do such an uncommon place thing as to banish our first citizen and probably greatest leader, because of his desire to marry the woman of his choice?
There are many other reasons, too. That cause one to rejoice because of being a citizen of the best nation on the earth. One of them is the fact that there is a big ocean or two between us and the fireworks on the eastern hemisphere. May they always keep their distance well.
The spirit of Christmas is again abroad in the land. What a lot of good would result if we were all able to carry out the generous desires this fine spirit brings us. Some folks are eternally embarrassed because they receive gifts and cannot return them each year. Ah, if they only knew it they could make as much happiness for the giver by receiving the gift graciously, as if they were in a position to return each remembrance with one a little better. At least I am still optimistic enough to think that most people believe this saying in the Good Book: It is more blessed to give than to receive. Folks get real lasting joy from giving. But to make this Christmas happier than usual, try putting a little extra emphasis on the “thank you.”
My wish for each of you is; that you may have this year the merriest Christmas you’ve ever had enjoy health and prosperity during 1937.
January 8, 1937
Rich Whittaker was telling of an experience with one of Keogh’s wild steers. As he was walking along one day one of the long-horned critters attacked him. The only protection he could see was a rather big willow bush. By the time he reached it, the steer was right at his heels. When he had made a few turns around the bush he decided he would have to stop to consider, the steer no doubt having a kind streak in its nature, stopped too.
Thought Rick, “I don’t believe it would be any crime if I’d shoot that beast. It’s no better than any other wild animal that would attack a man.” But on second thought he decided it was too valuable an animal for him to do such a ruthless thing. So when the steer started after him again, he circled the willow a few more times. Once more when he was about to drop from exhaustion he stopped. The beast again allowed him a short breathing spell.
“By golly, I will shoot the brute.” Said Rich to himself. “But no,” he reconsidered. “Mr. Keogh has never done me any harm. I must not serve him such a trick as that.” So Rich climbed into the willow and stayed till the steer left. After telling this he asked a friend “George, what would you have done in that case?”
“I think I’d have killed the critter,” replied George.
“You bet,” answered Rich, “and so would I if I’d only had my gun along.”
January 15, 1937
It’s getting to be about time that all our New Year’s resolutions should be, according to nearly all past experience, either broken, cracked or at least very badly bent. Well, perhaps now we can go peacefully on through the remainder of 1937 without having to hear that remark which all “revolutionists” hate – “I thought you had resolved…”
It’s a sturdy and staunch soul indeed who can faithfully keep a New Year’s resolution for an entire month. My sincere and heartfelt congratulations to any of you who are still carrying on. May success finally be yours.
The mail carriers are very popular fellows in these rural districts where folks are practically snowed in for sometimes three or four months out of the year. Ever accommodating and considerate, they bring a bit of cheer to one and all. Even when he brings nothing more interesting than a price list from some fur house, the mail carrier is greeted with pleasure. On the gloomiest days when blizzards rage outside, we look forward to seeing at least this one person abroad and rarely if ever does he fail us. Occasionally one may hear a few minor complaints about the mail carrier, but never do we hear the mail carrier’s complaints about his patrons. I’d like to hear a list of them, wouldn’t you? They would no doubt be enlightening. It has been said of one man who carried mail on the route for four years that there was not the faintest murmur against him. With a reputation like that, it’s no wonder he never tries to get the job again. Not telling what might happen another time.
There is an old saying that has been repeated often: a poor man has two dogs, a darn poor on has three, and a rich man doesn’t have any. If this is true, the poverty of some folks is positively beyond description. After they’ve had the much-talked-of rabbit drive, it might be well to have a dog drive too.
January 22, 1936
Although the complaints of mail carriers are as rare as roses in January, here is one which was found “hidden among the stuff.” With apologies to the author of “Strawberry Roan.”
Mail Carrier’s Lament
I was out on my farm and a trapping coyotes
When along comes a Senator looking for votes.
Sez I, “You can have mine and all I can mail
If you’ll get me a job a hauling the mail.”
He says, “Okay, pardner, that job you may land
If you and your friends will but lend me a hand,”
Sez I, “It’s a deal.” In my jitney I hop
And I drive in to Oakley with never a stop.
“I signs up the papers and seals ‘em up tight.
Then for once in my life I sleep through the night.
But it doesn’t take long before Even I see
That some (illegible)ded a fem ….me.
The roads they are awful could rarely be worse
No words can describe then politely in verse
Every kind of mail box en sues on this route
From a blue bird’s abode to an old rubber boot.
In a big syrup can I must dig in the snow
For the flag is raised up so a letter must go
When I get to the bottom I find without fail
That nothing is there but last Friday’s mail
One guy orders freight, half a ton, less or more
He wants it delivered right up to his door
I charge him two bits, be grumbles at that
He sez “You’re a robber --- you’d steal a man’s hat.”
For a long list of groceries one fellow does send.
Says he, “We’re right out, so on you we depend
The baby needs shoes and my wife she is ill
And the doctor prescribed for her this special pill
We are needing some flour and sugar and tea
Some bags of potatoes at least two or three.
But if one of these items you’d happen to miss,
I’ve sent for Bull Durham – be sure and get this
I must trudge through a blizzard and four feet of snow
My horses so weary they scarcely can go
But I’m warmed by the thought as I plod through the cold
I’m praised for my service by both young and old.
My joy comes to naught in a very short time
For here are six letters and one measly dime
The fellow who wrote ‘em has three sections of range
And he asks me to mail them and bring him the change
Kind friends, let me tell you, this job is no snap.
For every bouquet there is many a rap
So the next time a congressman’s looking for votes
I shall stick to my farm and trapping coyotes.
January 29, 1937
“Don’t you nearly die of loneliness?” is a question that is asked of rural folks more often than any other by urbanites who visit in the country. The almost invariable reply is, “I’m too busy to get lonesome.”
“I don’t see what you can find to occupy your time.” The city dweller will remark. This amuses any farmer or farmer’s wife who can scarcely crowd, into even the longest days of the year, more than half the things that need to be done. In fact about the only time a country person ever feels lonely is when duty or pleasure takes him to the city. There, freed from the responsibilities to which he has been accustomed, the surrounded by hundreds of people, he may really be lonesome- an emotion unknown to him in his country.
In the commencement of this cold spell, when the sun arose one morning there were two very brilliant sundogs. Later in the day a huge double ring encircled the sun; and in the evening as the sun was setting the sundogs again appeared. These signs, said some of the self-appointed weather prophets, were a sure indication of severely cold weather. Well, maybe they are but it seems to me that during the summer months when similar phenomena occurred, it was claimed then that they foretold intense heat. It’s getting so that the only weather forecast one can really believe is that of the old Indian who said he knew only one sure sign of rain. “And what is that?” he was asked.
“When it’s black all around and pouring down in the middle.” He replied.
The other night when I saw a large bonfire coming up the road toward me I was startled, to say the least. However, as is the case with most mysteries, the solution to this one was simple enough. Once I had learned it. During the coldest weather we’ve ever known here, some of the boys have originated a unique method of keeping warm while riding in a sleigh. They make a fire in a galvanized tub and take plenty of wood along to keep it replenished.
An occasional intrepid flyer still dares to wing his lonely way across our wind-swept, snow-covered hills to give us just a fleeting-glimpse of the hurry, bustle and excitement of the busy world outside.
Fred Taylor and Lee Kirkpatrick showed more hardihood than most of our residents by bucking the snowdrifts to Oakley this week. Fred lost considerable weight from having to walk so much to keep warm, and so fast to keep up with Lee.
February 5, 1937
I am a hollyhock fan. When a friend said last summer, “My flower garden is a failure – nothing is blooming but the hollyhocks.” I felt sorry for her, even though my sorrow was mixed with envy. Perhaps my love of these old-fashioned flowers might be traced by a psychologist back to childhood days when I spent many happy hours at my grandmother’s, making dolls with gorgeous glowing gowns and colorful parasols from these brilliant posies.
When the earth is covered with a sparkling white blanket and the mercury is wavering from zero to way below, it’s pleasant to think of delightful summer scenes. One of the most inspiring views in summer is that which meets the eye on making the last turn on the road to Vipont mine. No matter how often I travel that road, the beauty of that wonderful landscape makes me catch my breath for sheer joy to wish that I were an artist with the ability to reproduce on canvas those beautifully molded hills and the delicate coloring of the trees and shrubbery which grace them. I wish that everyone in the world could gaze upon that inspiring scene. It would not hurt anyone and would surely do a lot of people good.
February 12, 1937
The question of whether Mr. Ground Hog saw his shadow on his annual day this year was answered most emphatically by the blizzard which has raged for the past few days. He did.
The Moulton Lynn mail was held up – but not robbed – by bad roads last week. The mail carrier left for Oakley on Wednesday as usual but because of the storm and road conditions he was unable to return until Saturday. People were beginning to fear for his safety, so when he pulled in everybody heaved a big sigh of relief. There was such a blizzard Monday that he did not even attempt to start from Lynn.
The big measles scare seems to be over, the two youngest Benson children being the only victims of the disease, now we can sing that old vaudeville chorus:
Because we’ve all had ’em. We’ve all had ‘em
Some folks turn up their nose and say, “Oh, my!”
But we’ve all had ‘em, we’ve all had ‘em.
And you who haven’t had ‘em.
You will have ‘em bye and bye.
Mr. Leavitt has needed a magnifying glass to see his school; it has been so small the past two or three weeks.
Two holidays in three days! I think February is the only month which can claim such distinction.
Today, February 12, the one hundred twenty-eighth anniversary of his birth, we do honor to one of the greatest men who ever lived – our own Abraham Lincoln. Memories of this great American are both pleasant and sad. The sorrow of course being because of his tragic and untimely death. I think all Americans love and revere him, but all too seldom to we read and ponder on his life and works. Many stories of his life have been written and one at least would be told each year by young and old. He only lived and died that “government of the people, by the people and for the people, might not perish from the earth.”
Valentine day seems to be an occasion when young folks especially send to each other such love-lade greetings as this one expressed by a picture of a young farmer with an armful of vegetables who says; “I wouldn’t carrot all to live without you, my valentine.”
Or this one. A young fellow mowing a lawn with hearts scattered all about says to his valentine, “I love you ‘mower’ each day.
February 19, 1937
Some blackbirds have spent the winter here, one pair at least becoming somewhat domesticated, so that they go into the barn and eat with the pigeons. At present the blackbirds are even tamer than the pigeons. Many birds would spend the winters here if they were provided with shelter and food. I for one would like to see some trees growing around more of the homes to help encourage our feathered friends to take up their abode here.
A good work is being done by some of the men folks here in getting rid of many of the jackrabbits, and as the rabbit skins are a good price at present, those who obtain them are paid in more ways than one. It is regrettable that others do not join in helping exterminate these pests. More than five hundred skins have been obtained by two hunters who have used some of their spare time during the past month in this manner.
Visiting the sick on skis, though probably not a new thing, is a novelty here. That was the method used recently by Mr. and Mrs. Chester butlers to reach the Joe Moon ranch where Mrs. Moon has been ill for some time.
Though the roads are very bad and the cold has been extremely sever, there is not as much snow here as last winter. Also last year, because of several warm spells, the snow settled and contained much more water than the same depth this year would have.
March 12, 1937
Mrs. Joseph Moon, who has been seriously ill for some time, accompanied her daughter Mrs. McAllister and Mr. McAllister to a Burley hospital last week. The McAllister’s came via Almo in a car as far as the mouth of Immigrant canyon. From there the snow was too deep for an automobile, so they started out on foot, but were met by Mr. Moon in a sleigh. Though Mrs. Moon has lived here but a short time she has made many friends, all of whom wish her a speedy recovery.
Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Leavitt and Lamar Bronson went to Almo on horseback to attend the gold and green ball. The Leavitts then went to Elba by motor to visit relative there. On Sunday the entire party returned with a sleigh.
Rufus Wright, with the help of Ray Roberts the mail carrier, took his turkeys to Twin Falls to sell them. George Bronson accompanied them to Burley. These folks too made use of sleighs and a car on their trip.
There seems to be fad or something for using two or three methods of transportation on each trip these days. It is hoped though that this won’t be necessary much longer: In fact, the past few days have been so warm that some are even daring to hope that spring might come eventually.
March 12, 1937
The pupils are all again in attendance at school. Many books are being toted home by reluctant youngsters who must catch up on lessons that have been missed.
A pair of blue birds are said to be building a nest in the attic of the Buller's house. Many more pairs are moving into the apartments they occupied last year.
Another sure sign of spring was noted by a Moulton resident when he saw a flock of geese flying northward over our valley.
I.R. Stowers is now visiting his daughter, Mrs. Joe Millard, and family. When Mr. Stowers was asked if he and Mrs. Stowers intend to remain in Idaho, he answered, “We couldn’t find a better place.”
LaDell Wringley, who went to Lynn, Utah, for a load of hay, found the sleigh roads not so good. The snow being gone about half the way.
(From Last week)
Blue birds, robins and blackbirds are all daring to face the wrath of that grim old tyrant, Winter, who has ruled the land for the past few months. These cheery messengers of spring keep popping up here and there in spite of an occasional furious blast by north Wind. The chief commander of King Winter’s forces.
Our school gave additional proof of the adage that good things are done up in small parcels when on Washington’s birthday, a party and program was enjoyed by a few of the parents and patrons, Although the program was one of those surprise affairs, it would have been a credit to a much larger school.
March 19, 1937
The Junction Valley
Twenty-Five Years Ago and Now
By Lou Ella J. Bronson
When the Junction valley was filed on by homesteaders about twenty to twenty-five years ago, there were fifty or more homesteads taken up on the side of the valley. The population was around one hundred eighty. For several years very intensive farming was done and nearly all available ground was cleared for raising hay and grain. The valley was almost entirely covered with well cultivated fields. Visitors were greatly impressed with the bounteous crops. Some things which were raised successfully were wheat, barley, oats, rye, flax, corn, alfalfa and sweet clover. Besides these general farm crops some excellent truck gardens were produced, these provided their owners with all sorts of vegetables. Some small fruits such as currants, gooseberries, dewberries and raspberries were grown. Mrs. Harwood canned thirty quarts of dew berries from her few bushes one year.
All this man-made beauty looked better than the original beauties of nature to most people, but alas for its permanence! Whereas nature’s grandeur had remained the same or improved probably for centuries in this wonderland, when man came he destroyed much of the natural beauty, substituting the things that he desired to make money. Then as the land, being farmed constantly and sometimes unwisely, ceased to produce as much as some would have liked, they, instead of blaming themselves, condemned the country and left.
Many of the things which nature had placed here in such rich abundance had been destroyed. Weeds, brought mostly by man, along with some of the more hardy natural plants took the place of the beautiful fields of hay and grain. Now only a few families remain and a comparatively small amount of the land is under cultivation; most of the remainder produces abundant crops of sage brush, Russian thistle, June grass, lots of native plants, and jackrabbits. It would if given the chance bring f forth a variety of the growths which helped to make this a haven of peace and beauty. Man if he would have it restored must help to replace some of the plants, but he would, if he did so, be amply repaid for every bit of effort put forth in this direction.
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