John was born. Let's see he was born the 20th of Sept. 1881 They was married in '79, so they was married two years and then Edna was born in 1886, Arthur in 1891, and Marty in 1894 and me in 1896. Then Lorna was born in 1900 and Audrey in 1903 and Royal in 1906 and Fred in 1909.
They really spread them out didn't they?
Oh yes. But then they lost 3 children, and one of them was a twin.
What did your Dad do?
Well, he went on that farm, that homestead, they homesteaded it.
How many acres?
160. 160 acres. They could take up to 160 acres and then they had to do so much improvement for so many years. And then later on another Act came on they called the Desert Act and if you could get water on it, you could take 40 more acres, so then he took 40 acres up east in the foothills, so that made 200 acres there you see. It was a beautiful valley. It lay between the stone quarry on the west and the mountains on the east. It was all free range.
How many head of cattle did you have?
Well, I don't know. We had two yoke of oxen and probably a milk cow when they come on the homestead, but they started to build it up, first cleared the land, planted an orchard and getting things under cultivation and then of course in 1900 the railroad came in to Sanpete Valley. And that come right where the barn was, so he had to tear the barn down and move it. And I heard the other boys say, I wonder why these logs are marked? And I said, "Why Dad moved this barn from down agin the railroad track, cause he had to move it when the railroad came in."
And then right there where the barn stood they had a tie yard and they sawed ties for the railroad. They got the timber out of the mountains and they sawed ties there. It was called the tie yard. They just kept building it up and then there was one hard, I don't remember which winter it was, it must have been around, oh, I can't remember now, but anyway he went off to Peoch freighting . There was a whole bunch of men went out there and I've heard them say that coming in from Peoch that they'd camp at night and they would have to get out in the night and ride them horses up and down the road to keep them from freezing to death. Now wouldn't that be something?
But the first road that ever went on the mountain to the coal mines went up Dry Creek. Of course after they got to a trailin' sheep up there, they'd fill the dog-gone road up with rocks every year you know. Sheep going up and down that canyon you know would fill the road up with rocks, but that was a good grade up there. I remember my dad a tellin' about one time he, well before that they had coke ovens over to these coal mines, and they'd coke the coal there and they'd haul that coke into Salt Lake from here. And it would take them 4 days to make a trip. The first day they'd go to the Provo River--they had to cross the river then---there was no bridge you know. The next day they would go into Salt Lake and then the next day they'd come back from Salt Lake and come to the Provo River, and the next day on home. That coke was hauled in there by teams and wagons. I remember seeing some of them coke beds around to different men's places, and they was a great big deep beds because coke was light and it took so much of it to make any weight, it wasn't like coal.
I know I've hauled an awful lot of coal offing that mountain. We use to take coal and sell it and if we got $6 a ton, why we thought we was doing all right. I've sold a lot of coal for $6 a ton, hauled it offing the mountain in later years you know. And there was some fellows, that's all they ever done all summer long was haul coal. But they wouldn't take cash for coal, they haul on shares. The man that run the mine, they'd haul into his yard, they'd haul him one load and then they'd get a load for themselves. Well, then he could sell all that coal in his yard during the winter.
And then another thing they used to do, they use to be men haul coal out of them mines all winter to the forks of the canyons on bobs, and then the others would haul it from the forks down into town or into Mt. Pleasant and set it out see. But they'd stay right at the mines and had a big tent for their horses over there and they'd use the mine cabins over there to stay in. And that was the way it was operated all the time. And that was as late as 1934, that was the last I knew that they done that. We was on the reservation with our cattle that winter and I know there was a lot of them hauling coal out of there all winter.
What is the earliest memory of your life?
The earliest I really remember much about my life on the mountain, my dad of course and Uncle Andrew and all them fellows, it was free range up there, they run their cattle out an they turned them out as soon as the snow was going back. The cattle would follow the snow back you know. Of course that was doing the range no good, but they wasn't worry about that in them days.
About what year was that?
Well, I don't know, that would be in the early 1900's I imagine, because I was just a small boy and I use to ride behind the saddle you know with Dad on a horse.
When did you get your first horse?
Well, I don't know, I wasn't very old, but the first horse I got, I got from Charlie Toak.
Who was Charlie Toak?
He was an Indian who lived in Indianola. He was a friend of my Uncle Albin Anderson. He use to come over to Uncle Albin's and stay and Uncle Albin then he'd go over and stay with Charlie Toak over in Indianola. They were real friends. My dad bought this horse for me and he was just a young horse, and I got that horse for $15. And we went over to get him and boy did we ever have a time to get him home. He'd never had a rope on, only to be branded you know. And we got him home and we finally got him broke, but he was too much horse for a small boy. He was a horse that grew up on the range. He was what they called a cream colored in them days---now they call them Palominos, but be called them cream coloreds. He was a beautiful horse. And we got that horse and we broke him out but he was too much horse so the horse buyers come in buyin' horses so Dad sold a teams of horses to this horse buyer, so we sold this saddle horse to him.
And then I guess about the next horse we got was a little grey horse that come out of the reservation. No---before that we had a little brown mare and a little saddle baldly horse. We had them just when we had this here cream colored horse. And then the next horse we got we got of Joe Ticktama. He brung him out of the reservation---that was Johnny's Daddy-in-law, and he brung him out of the reservation and his name was Burt. He had a sore on his back about that long (6 inches) and we never could heal it up. But then we started to raising good horses in this country and there was a big demand for horses around the cities. Because everything---the firewagons, and all the dray horses and hauled all the freight and everything was done by horse---there wasn't no trucks you know, and your fire engines and everything was run by horses. Well your whole city was run by horses. And there was a big demand for horses and they paid good prices for 'em.
What would a good horse sell for?
Well, around $300. And that was good money in them days. And lots of men---now Dad and Uncle Andrew they use to match teams up you know, and then you'd get more money for them. But there was lots of our good horses that went into Salt Lake from all over this county. This county was noted for the best horses in the State of Utah, at that time raising the most horses.
(Grandma) Grandpa and I owned the first car in Oak Creek and the first radio in Oak Creek. Boy were we proud!
(Grandpa) Yeah, I bought the first car that was in Oak Creek in 1919, the spring of 1919 and that's the first car that was in Oak Creek.
What kind of car was it?
It was a Ford, a model T.
How much did it cost?
It cost $614.
Who did you buy it from?
Locking Johns in Mount Pleasant. I've bought three Fords of Locking Johns. (To Grandma) Well, the first Ford me and you had we bought in 1924. Then after I got this first Ford, Uncle Chel Mower, him and James got a Ford, they bought it second hand. But I had the first car in Oak Creek.
Did everybody have a car?
Nobody had a car. There wasn't many cars around Fairview at that time--- there was a few, but not very many--in 1918. Then in 1924 Thel and I bought another new Ford--T Model. And I forget what that one was--oh a little better than $600. Well, then of course later on long about 1927--- no '29, they come out with this model A Ford. I ordered one of them. They was hard to get you know, so many people ordering them you know, but anyway my mother had bought a new Essex down to Manti and we was down to Mount Pleasant in that new Essex and I happened to see or drive over to Locking Johns and said: "When you gunna get that Ford for me?" and he said, "Well, I dunno when we can get it but as soon as they fill the orders you can get it, but we've got one in here today that was ordered and the fellow can't take it." And they said, "Do you want that?" And I said, "Well, I'll see." It was green with a black top. So I got Thel and we looked at the car and we decided we'd take that one. And that new car--- 4 door sedan---$728. And that was the spare tire and everything!! And I remember the first time we pulled down into the service station to get some gas, it was just one little service station here in Fairview, right here on the corner. One pump. And Dan James over here-- Mary James's Dad, he was the marshall at that time. He walked up and he looked in the window and he said, "They can't call it a 'Lizzy' anymore can they?"
When did you get your first radio?
Oh golly, I don't know. We sent to Montgomery for it.....
I didn't get anything for being on the thrashin' machine you know. So I didn't get any grain. Anyway we got our thrashin' done. And our grain wasn't tolled see, and maybe we had a little comin'.
What did you use to charge for your grain?
They charged 8 and 1/2 bushel on the hundred, they tolled the grain see. That's what they call a toll, they didn't get cash. We never got no money, there was no money that exchanged hands. As you thrashed a hundred bushel of grain---why then--- Uncle Will, he was the overseer on the machine see. Then he'd sack up 8 and 1/2 bushel of grain see, and put 2 bushel to the sack. And if you had a thousand bushel, you can see how much grain you had. And like Swen O. Nielsen up there, I remember one time in two days we thrashed 2,400 bushel of barley and a stack of timothy seed. And we thrashed Lucern seed, Timothy seed, or whatever they had see.
How many bushel of grain did you use to thrash in a season?
Oh, in a short season after they got their grain hauled and we got to started thrashin' we'd thrash maybe 25-30,000 bushel, right in the North end of the valley. We thrashed Milburn and Oak Creek and some in town. But that's they way it was done. There was no money exchanged, till they got this big steamer machine. When they bought that big steamer--- that must have been around 19---it was after the war-- it must have been 1919-1920, somewhere in there. Dad said that well if you want to go in on that steamer, well we'll go in on it, but he said, "I'm not gunna thrash anymore" and I said, "neither be I. I don't want to--- its too big a outfit to get around, it's a lot slower than the horse power." I was talking to a guy from Evanston, Wyoming, while I was in this hospital this last time and I don't know how it come up but he said, "Yeah, I run on that old horse-powered thrashin' machine. You know out in Wyoming the jobs are so far apart, he said that was the only feasible way to thrash--- with them old horse powers in them days." I said, "Well, it was in our country too." Them big steam outfits would lose so much grain over them.
What did you do during the war?
Well, just went into training that was all. Couldn't go overseas or anything. Just went to Camp Kearny and spent our time down there. We'd moved right downnext to the railroad, and we was going to ship out as they signed the Armistice. We was ready to go to Maryland.
What division of the Army were you in?
I was in the 16th division. The whole division in Camp Kearny, that's about 60,000 men.
Were you an infantryman?
Nope--- artillery. The artillery was all pulled with horses. At that time you had the gun, and then you had the cason, and that's where the ammunition was, on back of the gun. You had two men ride the cason, two men ride the gun, and they was those French 75's And they was pulled with 6 horses and you had 3 men ride each left-hand horse, and there was 6 horses. And then I rode this saddle horse that you have this picture of here. And I rode on the right hand side, of the lead horse. I was the corporeal of the squad see. And when they had the target set up on the side of the mountain. But about the 3rd shot we could find that target. We'd estimate--- if we shot over then we'd have to pull back so far if we shot under and then we'd have to raise up so far. And I pulled the chain that set off the charge. You know it was pulled with a chain instead of a trigger. And I was the one that had the privilege of pulling that because I was the corporeal of the squad. And that was my job. And I can fully say that I fully enjoyed every minute I was in the army. I never did despise the army.
What was your pay?
36 bucks a month. Yeah, I got 36 bucks. A private see, he only got $30, a dollar a day. A sergeant got 38. So I made a corporeal right quick see so I got 36. And then of course I got a lot more privileges too. I was in good, I was--- that what Hilden Tucker said, he said, "Well, you've had a little money and you got even with the officers. You and Capt. Logan and Lieut. Laws, Sergeant Bulloch and all you fellas could go into town and have a big time, and I didn't have no money." He was married see, and so much of his pay was sent home to his wife. And of course mine was all mine, and I had quite a bit of money anyway. If I needed some money I would just telegraph Dad and write home and tell him to send me $75. Cause I'd made a thousand dollars that summer. So I still had money. And I had quite a bit of money coming from John Carlson up here, we'd sold him a lot of hay. I and my brother-in-law. And I had quite a lot of money coming from him so we wasn't pinched for money.
When did you meet Grandma?
Well, I never met Grandma till the 14th of February 1919.
How did you meet her?
They was puttin' on a play over here in the picture show and she was in the play and after the play we went to the dance. And of course Shorty hadn't come home yet.
Who was Shorty?
That was Grandma's brother--- Shorty Larson. He went with me see. They was 6 of us went from here, the day I went. I've got the picture of that someplace. The train up here at the depot, and all the people there. And I can show you Mom standing there now. Her and Ilene Cruser that was her girl friend that lived just up the street from her. We had to go to Manti to leave that's the county seat, and then we met all the boys from all through the lower part of the State.
What year was this?
1918. We were up on this lake, and spent a week with them, and they wouldn't let us spend one dime.
You spent Christmas in California?
Yeah, we'd go out and pick them big old oranges offin' the tree.
When did you first meet Grandpa, Grandma?
Well, it was at a Halloween dance. My girl friends and I were serving ice cream to everybody that came in. It was a Mutual Improvement, you know dance. We put on a show before that, then we went to the dance. And that's where I met you--- the dance after the show.
(Grandpa) We had a sergeant who's name was Alexander Elizabeth Bonn, and our top sergeant was John Austerman. I'm getting so I'm about to forget allot of em because I don't even look at their pictures anymore.
(Looking at a picture of a tower at a dam) That went out on the 17th day of June 1917. They was trying to hold too much water and it go to going over, now that wasall built with horses and scrapers.
What was the water used for?
It went down into Carbon County. Down through Hooper and Price, through there through to the Green River. There was two fellows--- Vern Peterson and John Carlson, come from over to Clear Creek just as it was going out. And then they phoned down to Helper and Price because they was right in the way of it. There was a wall of water going down there. That had some big old fish in.
Can you tell me a little about your hunting and fishing experiences?
Well, when I was a young fellow, we didn't have any hunting, only rabbits. We had lots of rabbits and I was telling somebody about that the other day, they was asking about it. Oh, it was Lawrence Larsen, they was telling about they had been out to Black Rock hunting rabbits and I said you don't remember when they let us out of school up here and we'd have a rabbit drive in the West hills. One day we had 4,800.
4,800 rabbits?
4,800 Jack rabbits.
How did you kill them?
With clubs. We just made a drive out in the west hills, they was eatin' everything up that year, the rabbits was that numerous.
What year was this?
I don't know, it was when I was going to public school up here, but I don't know what year it was. We had them 2 or 3 different winters those drives, but they let school out and we'd go drive rabbits and then they'd build a V fence out of close net see?
How old were you then?
Oh, I must have been up along maybe 7th or 8th grade, along in there.
About 14 or so huh?
Yeah, Well, I think I was in the 5th grade when we came down here to school from Oak Creek. Ya see we all went to school in Oak Creek. Milburn went to school in Milburn, Indianola in Indianola. Then you've seen that school house in Birdseye, the one in Thistle, Burch Creek.
(Grandma) The teacher walked 3 miles a day. 6 miles really cause he went to Oak Creek and back and walked.
(Grandpa) Yeah, he walked to Fairview to Oak Creek and back every day to teach school. We played Perg you know. He liked to play Perg, there'd be one of us be first, then second and then third and then we'd have safe way out there and we'd get him in a Perg game and instead of having 15 minutes for recess we might have 45. I remember we'd play ball you know in the spring of the year and in the fall we'd play ball. You know where the old school house is up to Oak Creek, that's where I went to school, that old red brick building.
What was the name of your teacher?
Eli Day. Yep, and he taught school here in Fairview after I came down here, because he came down here too.
So they let you out of school to go on these rabbit drives?
Yeah, in the afternoon, then we'd have a rabbit drive out in the west hills and they'd take us out there by the bob loads and turn us loose and we'd have this certain point to drive to and oh they'd be all the men and boys and saddle horses driving rabbits and then we'd be close enough so that we wouldn't let them back between us see, we'd all have a club and if they'd try to get back why we'd just kill 'em--- if we could. I remember this one day we loaded them in bobs and brung them into Fairview and we had 4800 rabbits and 2 coyotes--- and that's a lot of rabbits.
What would they do with them?
They could feed 'em to the dogs, feed 'em to the chickens, feed 'em to anything that would eat 'em.
When did the hunting become real good around here?
Well, I can't tell you what year but --- well I can't tell you what year I ever seen a deer but you never could use to see a deer track on this mountain.
Where did the deer come from?
Well, they just finally protected them and allowed nobody to kill 'em for years and years and finally they started to come back. When they started to come back then they came back real fast. But I remember when we first started to hunt they'd be a bunch of us and there'd be 8 or 10 of us and we'd get 1 deer and we'd whack it up and you know so we'd have a mess or two, we didn't care.
(Grandma) Win they shipped elk in here didn't they?
Yes, they shipped elk when we went to school up here 'cause they took us up to the depot, they brung 'em in railroad cars and they stopped at Nebo with 'em and they stopped at Salina Canyon.
What was the biggest buck you ever shot?
Well, I don't know--- I think he had 27 points. (Grandma) How much did he weigh? (Grandpa) He weighed 287 lbs..--dressed out.
Dressed out? Are you sure that wasn't an elk?
Your Dad got a bigger one than that. Your Dad got one 330 or 337 over in the Big Hole.
Boy, that's a big buck!
That's the biggest buck I ever seen, but he didn't have near the head of horns that this'n had that we got over in Left Hand Fork. That'n in Left Hand Fork had 27 points, and that'n you Dad got was just a big 4 pointer.
When did you shoot yours?
Oh, golly I don't know, long before we moved down here (Fairview). That head was on the granary up there for years and years. (Grandma) Yes, they had it on the granary for everyone to see. They were proud of those big horns. (Grandpa) That'n you Dad got was the biggest I ever seen--- that'n over in the Big Hole. We had 21 bucks by 9 o'clock that morning. And we only had about 2, 2 pointers. I believe. 1, 2 pointer and 1, 3 pointer I believe and all the rest were big "Roman-nose" bucks. We had them all on a pick-up. The first one we got that morning--- I had 3 saddle horses and I was riding behind the truck--- we was just past Cabin Holler a little ways. Dad was leaning over the truck cab and I was right behind the truck on the horses--- I was riding one, leading two--- and we jumped a bunch of deer and they said, "Don't shoot, they're all a bunch of does." Dad shot and said, "Well, I just shot a buck." So we stopped and loaded him in the truck. And we went down and we got out of that--- we never organized a hunt, but we just started out and we just got out from the truck a little ways and we got the first buck. We just spread out down through there-- when the shootin' stopped we started to carry bucks and by 9 o'clock we had 21. And that night when we come out we got another one. He was standing on the side hill just as we crossed Cabin Holler and we hit him so many times he couldn't even fall over. They said, "Where we gunna hunt tomorrow?" I said, "right here!" They said, "There's no buck left here." I said, "I seen a lot of buck get away, I was standing right on a ledge down in the middle. I know I seen at least a dozen get away. Big bucks, that nobody got." We went back the next morning and got 10 more.
That's amazing, 31 deer in 2 days. Did you ever get any mountain lions?
Yeah, well, this was on the late season hunt you know, and Phil said, "Oh lets go on that hunt." It was the first of December, and I said, "I don't know if I want to go on that or not." Anyway he went to Manti and he got 18 of us a permit. They was a dollar. So he come back and we went hunting deer in Left Hand Fork and the snow was up to a horse's belly. I just got on to Maple Flat and I run onto a lion that had just killed a deer. And we got lookin' and seen 3 different lion. They was killin' the deer in there. Se we started to huntin' lion and we got 3 lion that day in there. And then they started to huntin' lions and my golly for the lions they got, that winter.
Did you shoot a lion personally?
No, I didn't.
Have you ever seen any bear?
Lots of bear. Yeah, I've shot at bear. I met 3 right on a ledge. Well, that was the year I had a stroke and I'd been in the hospital 6 months and I come out and they said, "Oh you're going to go huntin' deer" and I said, "No I don't think I'll go 'cause I can't get around." And they said, "Oh you'll go anyway. So we drove up the mouth of San Pitch, or the mouth of Lone Pine, and I told those fellows to on Phil and Ted Vance, and who all. That must have been 1941. There was quite a bunch of us. They got scattered out there. I said, "I'll mosey alone and I'll get up there on those ledges--- there was kind of a little trail around these ledges and I was up about half way and I had my back to the ledges comin' around here. I got right here to the point where it goes out onto the side you know, and it was muddy as the dickens, it had stormed all night---and I thought my gosh is there pigs up here? I could here this comin' you know and it sounded like pigs. My gosh I met that ole sow and 2 yearling cubs, and they just threw mud all over. "Whosh", she said. I thought she was going to knock me offin' the ledge. But instead of that she whirled and I yelled to Ted Vance, I knew he was right above me, I'd seen him just a minute ago. I yelled, "Ted, run down the hill a ways there's three bear comin'". And he said, "Bear hell, they's no bear in here." I said, "there's three comin' right under you there".
But he wouldn't run down there. He wouldn't believe me. But they come right back and they come right under Phil and he got 2 of 'em. Well, he might have got all three of them. Well, we couldn't imagine what had become of them though. We hunted there all day and we never seen anything of Phil and them and then they went down to Swen O. Nielsen's ranch to get a horse, to get those bear out. I didn't know they got them bear.
I got home, the boys had the chores done and everything and we went to bed and here come Phil and them with a truck. He said, "I want you to come and see them bear, I got two of 'em." So he carried Theli and Jimmy down to the truck to see them bear. They wasn't very big at that time. Jimmy was born in '34--- So they dressed them out and said, "Do you want some bear meat?" I said, "No, but you know them travlin' men just loved that bear meat they come back the next time and asked if we had any of that bear meat left." And I wouldn't even taste it. They said it tasted a lot like pork.
Yeah, I seen lots of bear on that mountain. I remember the first bear I ever saw that had been shot up there--- I wasn't very big--- maybe 7-8 years old, but I was riding on the back of the saddle behind Dad. I don't remember who was herdin' sheep up there but we got there and he'd just shot a bear out of a tree. He had this big black bear there. And this Billy Ray Jackson that herded up there one day I went up there and he just got to walkin' along and he come around this here bush and there's an old sow and her 2 cubs and she reared right up in front of him. He got her and them two cubs and that same day he got a big lynx.
Oh, they use to be a lot of that kind of stuff in there. I remember when we was kids, running up and down the road between Oak Creek and Milburn and we'd hear them old lions howl and roar over on Stone Quarry. I remember my Dad use to feed his cattle on the foothills there in the Winter you know. He went over there to feed one morning, and there was a lion right among the cattle. He had two dogs and they treed him. Uncle Andrew, he had an ole gun he hollered to him and he come over and shot him out of the tree. They had that rug for years and years--- that old lion hide. I remember that old lion hide.
(Grandma) They use to go over the mountain a lot to have dinner at the sheep camps.
(Grandpa) Well, yeah, I've had some good friends that's herded sheep up there--- Jack Robinson, Ern Robinson, Billy Ray Jackson (Jensen?) and all them fellows, heavens ya know if you ever wanted a banquet why go up to a sheep camp. We've really had some feeds up there I'll tell you. I've took Thelma up there, I use to take Art Stewart's wife and Garn and his brother, Berk and Tom and Helen--Art's wife and we'd go up and spend the day with Art. He herded sheep for years.
How about telling us a little about the fishing down on the San Pitch?
When I was a youngster I don't think there was ever three or four fellows in Oak Creek that ever fished. That was August Anderson, my brother Johnny and Axel Anderson, he's my cousin that lived right south of us. Outside of them that's about the only fellows I ever knew that fished there. None of the young fellows fished. And there was one big hold that was right down by the spring where we use to get our water and I could go down there and set there any day and catch 25 or 30 fish and never move.
But before that my Dad use to weave a willow trap on the ripples and they was fish in there as long as your arm. They'd been in there since--- well you don't know when. As long as there's been a San Pitch I guess. He'd weave a little trap and all the little one could go through.
That's 2 1/2 or 3 feet long?
Yeah, and he'd have 'em stacked on his arm just like stove wood. And it was the same up in Oak Creek--- I've heard him tell it. He said, "You could hook into one of them, straighten the hook out and not even turn one over" In them big falls up there. I don't know what's ever happened, but there use to be a lot more water in these streams than there is now days. Oak Creek use to be a big stream of water. I remember when the grain started to turn ripe, Dad would always water his grain and that would be late in the fall. He said that's what puts them half a bushel. This late water. Which I guess it did, but you couldn't do that any more. You couldn't water your grain late, because you don't have the water. And yet they've got the most storage water in most places but we haven't got it here. We haven't got no storage water. We've got the short water sheds--- on the other side of the mountain they've got all the long water sheds. This is all short canyons here see.
Grandma, you were telling me when you met Grandpa.
Yes, I came home that day from nurses training. I'd been training to be a nurse in the L.D.S. hospital in Salt Lake. And they were having a Halloween dance and they asked a bunch of us girls to serve punch and cookies you know. That was the first night I ever remember seeing your Grandfather at all.
Were you impressed right off?
Well, I can't say that I was. Of course anything in an Army uniform we thought was special.
How long before you really got serious?
Oh, I guess a couple of years.
What was dating like then?
We'd go to dances. They had a dance every Friday night. Picture shows, that what we called them then--- not movies. They were all picture shows.
(Grandpa) We'd go to county fairs and all the big "doinses" down through the county.
(Grandma) We use to have an awful lot of entertainment on the 4th of July. Horse races and we always took everything in that way of course.
Where did you live after you were married?
(Grandma) We moved right out to Oak Creek. We lived there for how many years Win?
(Grandpa) Well, we moved there until our family was raised.
Were your children born there too?
(Grandma) Well, no some of them were born in Fairview. Jimmy and Theli were born out there, but Berk and Tom were born in Fairview. We didn't go to hospitals in those days, you know. We had doctors in but you know when Mother and them had their babies they had nothing but mid-wives.
What was it like then being a housewife?
Well it was hard out where we lived. Because we didn't have electricity then. And we had to draw out water from the well. We washed on the board. We had to rub-a-dub-dub- on an ole wash board. Course our first washer was a gas washer. And that was really a luxury! Most people didn't have those.
When did you get electricity?
Well, I don't know. John Christensen put in a little plant down on the creek. We had gas light out there. They was much better than electricity. They were wonderful lights. You had a tank on the porch that would hold 5 gallons of gas and then you'd pump air into this tank and then it went up you know just like you wired up with electricity, except they was gas lines.
(Grandma) Most people had lamps, but the gas was really something then.
What was it like during the Depression?
(Grandpa) Well, as far as being hungry--- nobody in our country was hungry because we raised our food. But as far as money--- we didn't have much money. We'd bring a can of cream to town and get 3-4 dollars for it. That would be a 8 gallon can of cream with $.12 a pound for butterfat. In the year of '34 I took two cars of cattle to Ogden and we got $.04 a pound--- then we had to pay our yardage, and commission and our freight. How's that? I know some of them Wyoming men come in there with them black Angus calves that weighed about 400 pounds. You could buy them calves on the market for $16. 4 cents! As far as the drought--- it wouldn't have hurt us so much if we hadn't of had this darn depression along with it. We couldn't raise anything. We'd sell a big milk cow--- a cow and a calf for $20. We couldn't feed 'em. I felt so bad--- I sold 4 for $20 a head and Jordan Mower brung a big Holstein heifer up there with a big Holstein heifer calf and they gave him $20 and I bought her and took her back home and kept her. By gosh and wintered her through.
(Grandma) We use to sell them for $150 didn't we?
(Grandpa) Hell, I sold Oliver Dalton that one Holstein cow for $400. I give $200 for her. I bought her a little while before she calved. Lou wanted to sell her to me and I said what do you want and he said $200--- she was just ready to calve. And by gosh she calved before I got her away from his place. I bought another of George Jensen--- that was later years, but I don't know how many years I'd had this cow. She'd calved out 2 or 3 times, and Oliver Dalton come in there one night and he said I'll give you $400 for that cow. And I said, "My golly I hate to sell that cow, but that's a lot of money. I'm going to let you have her." He said, "I need two cows. I got a carload to go to California," and he said, "ordinarily I wouldn't give that much." Then he went down and give Clinn Rigby $400 for a cow. I use to keep track of my good friend Curtis Louis from up to Kamas with Oliver Dalton--- bought cows all over the State you know. He got out of the hospital after I had the flu.
That's when you were in the Army?
Yes, I weighed 116 pounds. I was just about all-in when my brother Arthur died. I didn't even get to come home.
How did Arthur die?
He died of the flue back in Omaha, Nebraska. He got over the flu and they put him back out to training, but they put him out too quick.
Was it common in this time period for people to die of the flu?
They died by the thousands. They didn't know what to do that was the first flu epidemic the'd ever had in the United States. It just hit 'em and they went down with a terrific fever and well--- you was never sicker in your life. You was sick all over. They didn't know what to do fer 'em. They didn't know whether to keep 'em warm, whether to keep 'em out in the fresh air. We was just put out in the big hospital rooms where--- no heat down there in California. They was just hauling them off by the hundreds every day.
How was that back here in Fairview?
Oh there was a lot of them died here in Fairview--- with the flu and all over in the camps.
Can you tell us a little bit about that Grandma?
Well yes, I nursed several families through the flu. Oh it was really bad. They didn't know what to do at first. They tried putting them out in Fairview here. They put one man out on the porch. They decided the cold air would cure the flu, you know, and he died. Oh, they had quite some experiences.
When was this?
1918 was when the flu hit. That's the first epidemic they'd ever had. The fall of 1918.
(Grandma) I nursed flue in Mt. Pleasant. I nursed one Madsen family through and they came through all right. The night Win and I was having our wedding supper, Dr. Madsen came up and wanted me to go down and nurse his family through. Win said, "No", that I wasn't going to nurse the flu anymore, you know. And so he teased me for years about that. Yes, I came up and tried to get you to nurse us through the flu.
Now were you a registered nurse?
No, but I'd had nurses training for a couple of years.
(Grandpa) She could have been a registered nurse.
(Grandma) Yes, I could have been.
Could you tell us a little bit of what you remember about your history or your family here in Fairview. Of Amasa Tucker and...
Well, course I don't remember so much about them. Grandpa died when I was 5 or 6 years old. But he was the first Bishop here in Fairview and the first Mayor of Fairview.
I read today where he was ordained by Orson Hyde. Was that right?
Yes, and then I know they asked Grandpa to go to Thistle in his wagon and meet Brigham Young and bring him to Mt. Pleasant and Fairview, so he could talk to the people.
When was this can you remember?
Well, I don't know when it was but anyway it was in the early days, you know, and they asked Grandpa, and Grandpa was married at that time, so he went to Thistle and got Brigham Young and brought him down here.
Was Grandpa a polygamist?
Yes, he had three wives. He married Aunt Nettie and I don't know who she was, I think she was a Winters. And then he married Annetta Peterson, she had been married before. She had some sons and then she also had some sons by Grandpa. But then he married Grandma who was Annett's sister. She was the youngest and the prettiest and they were all jealous of Grandma, because Grandpa made a fuss over Grandma because she was young and pretty you know. But I heard Mother say that they got along unusually well for a polygamist family. Then Grandma went into the hotel business, she---I don't know quite what happened, she kind left Grandpa and started up the hotel business. She ran a hotel for Oh, I don't know.
Here in Fairview?
Yes, for years. She did real well there. They use to say that she was a little subtle, that her hotel was a little subtle hotel.
(Grandpa) Subtle? I thought it was metal?
What did your father do?
He was a farmer.
How many children did your mother have?
11, did she have 11? Yes, she lost 2.
Can you tell us a little about the Indians that use to come around. Did you ever see any yourself?
Oh, I saw a lot of Indians. They came begging for food. They come in, they didn't knock. They just would come in, and they would say: "Me want pig meat, me want bread." And we always gave them food. I was down to Grandma Great's (Geneva Tucker Larson) one day and they came. I hid behind her apron and oh, they laughed. They said: "Papoose scared!".
Were you ever scared of the Indians doing something wrong?
No, they were friendly in those days. We'd go down to the campground and watch them cook over the campfires and watch the little papooses. They were too cute for words. They didn't like for us to watch them. They'd say: "Papoose go home!"
Where did the Indians stay?
In Indianola, that's why they named it Indianola.
(Grandpa) Before this country was settled they had their trails right along the foot of the mountains, right on the foot of Stone Quarry. They didn't travel through the valley. And then they had trails all up these mountains and then they went into Castle Valley and all over. And then they went into the deserts and like that. I guess that's where in the early days that's where they spent a lot of their winters. In the early, early days here why they hibernated, some of the Indians. They heated rocks and went into holes and stayed there all winter just like ground dogs. And the Spaniards then, they would come in and capture them and take them into Mexico for slaves. They'd get them in the Spring while they was weak.
(Grandma) They respected Grandpa (Amasa Tucker) here and when they got into trouble they'd come over for "Bissip Tucker" as they would call him, to settle their trouble. Grandpa would let them sleep all over the living room floor near the fireplace and Oh, Grandma was such a good housekeeper and so fussy and she'd get so angry at him, but then too he'd set them right down to the table to eat with them and her lovely white linen table cloth you know and they'd get it so dirty and she'd get so upset about it. They really thought Grandpa Tucker was a wonderful man.
Did you ever have any beer drinking contests down here in Fairview, Grandpa?
Nope.
You never did?
Nope, I never could drink beer. No, but I seen guys out to parties that had some pretty good drinkin' contests--- 2 or 3 guys. But I never could drink beer.
Were people pretty religious down here?
Why yes, there wasn't much skull-duggery goin' on like gamblin' or anything. They might play a little poker a bunch of guys, but just for small stakes you know. This was never a beer town, they was never many guys that drunk much beer. Even in the early days. The saloon was right over here. I've been in that saloon many times when I had my arm broke. My dad took me down to the doctor all the time and then we'd go in and have a little shot.
What would you drink?
Oh, a little blackberry wine.
What would your dad drink?
He'd just have a little shot of whiskey, or brandy, usually whiskey.
Was he a fairly religious man?
Oh, not too religious--- he believed in religion. I think they was too dog-gone busy to be too religious.
I guess life was relatively hard?
That's right I'll tell you it kept you scratchin' to make a livin'. We all had big families. Well, you can imagine what it is today if you had 9 children, and you and your wife to feed all the time, and so many neighbors and hired help comin' in like the thrashers. You'd be surprised how they fed the thrashers. I never seen anything like it everywhere you went. Them women would get up and have hot biscuits and everything for breakfast you know.
When did they first pave main street in Fairview?
They put the first cement in there in 1929.
Do you ever have any experiences that you look back on now that are really funny?
The most funny thing that I ever had happen to me and done me the most good was you know, we use to run races with our wagons on the mountain. There'd be so many teams you know haulin' coal, you'd lay over there 3 days to get a load of coal. Well, any way, this one night we was going over and they was 7 of us--- they was my dad and me and Uncle Cheal Mower and Dick Terry and Bryon Mower and I don know--- 7 of us from Oak Creek. Anyway, so there was a bunch of these Mt. Pleasant fellers that passed us. I was the back team and I had a big pair of Roans--- a big roan team. My dad had a big black bally and a bay bally mare and anyway, these 7 fellows passed us and so I finally got around on the head of them and I said to Dad: "I'm going to out run them guys". Cause I'd run this team allot on the mountain see. They was really ready to run! So when we got down, we crossed Huntington Creek and we went down through a little meadow and we come up on quite a cut, that the road come through on. And I out run all these Mt. Pleasant fellows. So when we got to this cut, right at the head of the cut, I stopped and all those fellows was behind me. Dad and them pulled up over the hill and then they went ahead of them see. This was just about at the mines. This one guy said that next time he come on the mountain he was going to bring a saddle horse and he was going to out run me. So that let 7 of us ahead of them see. I held them in the cut till the rest of the Oak creek fellows went by, then I dropped in behind them.
There was a guy, his name was Pete Madsen and he had a big pair of blue Roans, from Mt. Pleasant-- Old Tom and Dan was their names. I had these Roans that we had up there. I'd run them a lot. We got to a runnin' one day, oh, just off the Olsen Dugway. We'd been runnin' through Flat Canyon all along. I had them all whipped but him. He was a big bug-eyed guy and had a big handlebar moustache. We use to call him "Boo-Boo the Man Eater".
We got to running down to Boulder there, just where Boulder and Huntington come together and I could out run him. So I just kept crowding him down into Huntington Creek see. I said: "Boo-Boo, I'm gunna drown ya!" He was standing' up there just a yellin' and I had my front wheels up agin his team see. And I run him right into Huntington Creek. If you've ever seen a man mad it was him.
Before that one time we worked Maryvale one time. I wasn't very old--- that was 1914. I went out to Maryvale to work. Oh it was a boomin' down there you know, that gold mountain you know--- Kimberly. These fellows was down there freighting ore down to Maryvale from up to the Deer Creek mine. We'd go down there and listen to 'em down to the freight yards. They had a big freight yard see 'cause all the stuff from Southern Utah was freighted from Maryvale 'cause that was the end of the railroad. And everything was freighted down there clear to St. George.
We'd go down to that freight yard and listen to the tall tales. And this one guy--- they called him "Little Willy". Hell, he weighted 300 or 400 pounds. The new butcher on the railroad, I can't remember his last name, but his first name was Jack and I'd known him for years. Us kids if we wanted a bottle we'd just get on up to Oak Creek (on the train) and ride to Fairview and we'd buy a pint or two of liquor. We'd buy them for a dollar a pint. Anyway he was still on the run so he'd had it when we'd get to Maryvale.
This time the train had just come into Maryvale and we'd been down and got 2 or 3 pints of liquor. I said to big Niels (Little Willy): "Would you like a drink?" He said "Ya". And he just tipped it back and he drunk the whole bottle! Oh, Little Willy.
Hell, we lived in tents down there that winter. Hell, they didn't have housing for 'em. We really enjoyed it down there that winter. Had a lot of fun. We'd come to Joe Town, down to Richfield and them places to the dances. Up to Circleville and Oh shoot, and Junction. Junction is where 2 rivers come together--- Sevier and I can't remember the other'n. But you know that day we went to Circleville. We went to see Albert Nay. He was here and we wasn't home. I knew so many guys all down through here from the war you know. And I had been in the hospital with them. I knew men from St. George, Cedar City and all along. Everywhere I went I knew guys.
(Grandma) Oh, there's so much you can tell. There use to be a saloon right across the street from here you know. The men use to go there and I heard Mother tell of one man from Milburn -- he drank quite a lot--- a Stewart I think. And his wife got so disgusted that one day she went down to the Saloon and took her knitting, and pretty soon she shamed him out and he said: "Oh Hell woman, let's go home!"
(Grandpa) You know, he was killed right there in Oak Creek--- right on the railroad track. Just north of Dad's. We was right there, we wasn't a block from him when he was killed.
How was he killed?
Well, they called it a Militia train you know. They call it now, National Guard. They hauled all through these counties here clear to Maryvale. They'd take them out for 2 weeks training and then the'd bring them in, and I knew the engineer George Fliedman that ran over him. But he didn't know that he run over him. We had a big swing on the gate that come up through our orchard, where we lived west of the track up to the barn and corals. This orchard gate had 2 great big high cedar posts with a pole across and then the gate swung just one big gate see. We was there and it was my sister Lorna's birthday. It was the 11th of August 1908. It was her 8th birthday and I would have been only 12. He'd been to town all day and he come by in the wagon. Just before you got to the railroad this ditch come across like this from my Uncle Andrew's and then it come on to Dad's pasture. But anyway, he missed the end of the culvert with his wheel I guess, and it must have threw him out of balance and he must of lit or else he crawled onto the railroad track. And this militia train come and my brother Arthur walked over there and then he walked down through the orchard and he was there when the train went by.
In the mean time this team had gone on to Milburn. They went straight up the highway and when they got to Charlie Nelsons they cut across this way through some sages and went to Richard Graham's and then up the first lane. They went up to Ed Stewart's and they seen 'em comin' and they wondered where he was so here they come a huntin' him with lanterns. We was still out there. My hell there he laid and his head was clear up to the switch. Cut his head right off. It was just dark you know when he went by. I could tell who it was when he went by. He use to be the road supervisor. They use to be all wood culverts you know across the roads in them days and the'd use to have to tear 'em out. They'd rot and the'd have to put in new culverts and fix the roads a little. They was just old dirt roads you know.
Do you remember seeing any Indians?
why, they come around all the time. Yes, we use to trade with 'em. Lots of people would. They owned pretty near all that land in Indianola. There's Jim Indian he owned 160 acres of meadow. Toak owned a place. They owned places clear up to the mouth of Thistle Creek. Santaquin owned a ranch right down where Nebo Creek and Thistle Creek comes together.
Were there any co-ops operating in those days?
No, not in my day--- not around here. They did have that United Order, but that didn't work out too good. They never had no united order around here.
Who use to own this thrashing machine that use to go around?
Well, that belonged to a company. There was 5 of 'em that owned it. But they had to have 6 teams so I went on there. Now like I went on there with Dad's share. The teams drew half a bushel on the hundred. I drew half a bushel on the hundred and the machine drew half a bushel on the hundred. So I got a bushel and a half on the hundred.
How many bushel per hour could you do?
Well, a lot of times we'd get a thousand or eleven hundred bushel a day.
How old were you when you drove the horses?
Oh, I was about 15, 16 or 17. I was about 19 I guess.
Well, you've seen a lot of changes in your life.
I don't think anybody will ever live in a time when they've seen more changes than us people that's lived in this time. In the last 75 years I've seen more changes than anybody else has ever seen. Because you've seen 'em go from ox teams, to horse teams, and then to tractors, then to these big combines, and everything like that you know.
What did you think about people landing on the moon?
Well, that's what I say. Then we went to automobiles and everything else--- airplanes to all the fast passenger trains, steam engines and the steam engines went to oil--- they don't use coal burners anymore, it's all oil--- where it use to be all steam engines--- and they use to have to have a screen over the smokestack to keep the sparks from comin' out. To keep from burnin' the farms up and all. But they did burn up a lot of farms. And if you had stacks in the fields they was always measured every fall so if the railroad set 'em a fire they would pay for 'em.
We never had any burnt up but I know people who did. You take them changes from Ox teams, then to horses, and then to tractors and then to big tractors. These little tractors like these little Fords and Cases. Well, like them tractors up to you dad's, and then you see these big ones that will pull a dozen big gang plows on these farms where they farm thousands of acres. Then you see from these old horse powered thrashin' machines to the gas thrashers and the steam thrashers and now the combines that just go on the fields and do the whole operation. And then rake the straw up and bale it if they want the straw. Why we use to have to haul it and stack them big stacks of grain and they'd stand sometimes for a month before we ever got 'em thrashed.
I don't know where you'll ever see as many changes as we've seen. And all the transportation and everything. All the coal was hauled offin' the mountain--- with truck now. I remember wen the trucks first started and most of us was still haulin' with teams. Them trucks would make 3 trips a day. And they'd pass us 6 times while we was going over. It would take us about 5 house from home to go up to the mines. 21 miles you know. Well you know them trucks would make 3 trips in that time. And of course them was just small trucks at that time. I remember Jim Jensen up here he was married to one of my cousins, Mandy Mower, and he had just a ton and a half truck you know. Albert Christensen that run the mine, he had just a ton and a half truck. Where now they go over there and bring out 30-40 ton of coal. These big long semi's you know.
What was the community like when you were young?
Well, it was a lot different that it is today. If anybody had a job to do like raise a barn, or dig a well, or whatever they was doin', everybody was there to help 'em. They don't do that any more. You have to hire it done now. But I know if anybody was going to put a barn together--- you know they had these sections. They was heavy and everybody would be there to help 'em. but they don't do that any more.
Can you remember anybody's barn that you help put up?
You betcha. I help put up Erb Hartley's barn. Help build my own barn. I helped on my dad's barn. I helped Rule Mower put up his. I helped, who else did I help? I and August Anderson helped build my barn, we shingled it on Thanksgivin' day. Do you remember that Mom? It was 1921. I remember that home right there where Les (?) Mower use to live--- Smith Hansen built that. And boy when they moved in there they put on a big dance in that front room. A big supper and did they have a time. And they helped put up his barn, and he built that whole thing. Then he built his blacksmith shop down, and traded his place to Uncle George Mower. (Grandpa to Grandma) Well, you know your dad had that 12 acres up there south of Emmie Jane 'cause he told me himself. And he traded that to Blacksmith Hansen for that field out agin the Stone Quarry and that'n out to Elsie Bradies. And then he got that other field out there from Fred Christiansen, that north place out there. but I remember when Blacksmith Hansen moved to Oak Creek.
How long would it take to raise a barn?
Well, you could raise it up because it would have all these cross pieces and everything up and put together on the ground. I remember when they built that big barn over to Dad's, but he tore that down in Milburn--- up to George Zabriskies. Willard Vance and his boys, they put that barn up. And the whole thing for $75.
Where did they get the lumber?
Sawed it in the mountains.
When did they start that?
Well, I don't know that was before my time. Well, I don't know, that was before my time. They was sawin' lumber when the railroad come in and that was 1890.
Where did they have a mill?
The first mill was in the mountains, I guess in Dry Creek. It was put in there by Swen O. Nielsen. Because there wasn't any road in these other canyons. At one time there was 3 mills in Oak Creek. There was Oscar Peteson and Ole Nielson, they had one. And Swen had one, and Durfey had one in Durfey's fork. There were 3 mills and there was a road in Oak Creek till 1906 till it went out in the big flood.
I remember when that road went out. There was a long bridge up there. Just up the canyon in them narrows. If you go up the old road into the little draws you'll see where the hubs of the wagons has wore into those rocks. You notice next time you go up there. It was just wide enough for a wagon. There was a lot of timber sawed in Oak Creek. We goa a lot of lumber out of Oak Creek, when your dad got out of the service that time. We timbered in Swen's Fork there, but we had the sawmill downtown. We had to haul it downtown 'cause there was no mill over the mountain. That would be about 1945.
Did your son's help you quite a bit on the farm?
Oh yes, they was good to help. One summer we run Grandpa Larsen's farm, we run that farm in Milburn, that old Stewart farm 109 acres, and I run my own farm. That'd be 1938. I could of bought that form for $2,000. I don't know why in the hell I never bought that. I had crop enough to pay for that. I had the damnest crop tht farm had ever raised. I had enough lucern seed to buy that farm. I cut half of it and Burt Seely come up there and said, "Win you'r cuttin' a forturne away." He said, "I've seen lots of seed crops, but I've never seen anything to equal that." He said if I give him $400 down he'd sell it to me for $2,000 and give me 20 years to pay. Hell, I was milkin' 12 cows and had a nice bunch of range cattle and had 5 horses.
What did you have your sons do?
Oh, they cut hay, raked hay, hauled hay---
Was this typical of all families?
You, betcha. They all got in and worked on the farm. They wasn't no jobs around. They didn't have a powder plant or anything. These boys that stayed here didn't have no place to go. Hell, about the only work we got around here was the threshin' in the fall and a week or two up in the canyon with the team. We only got $5 a day helping build the road from here to Thistle.
Did the CCC do anything around here?
Yes, Berk was in the CCC.
What did they do?
They put up a forest fence up here. I contracted to put the posts up there for the forest service. I hauled all them up there. The forest service built the road in Dry Creek. They gave each man a week's work. I was the foreman on that job. Thelma's dad, he worked steady there, and Hal Rasmussen he worked steady there. And the rest of 'em we give a week. I got $3.75 a day and the men that worked under me got $3.50. I forget what Harold got for his team, it was around $5. The road went from the mouth of Dry Creek to the head of Dry Creek.
We finished up there the 3rd of November, 1933. 'Cause I went from there, I went on that road down there and worked till the 17th day of December and I boarded with Dolf Lasson and I paid $.90 a day for board. Boy did she ever board us! 3 meals a day and a bed to sleep in. I made $7.20 a day with 4 head of horses, those great big horses. This outfit had come from Montana down here and he told me that I could make more dirt than any man he had ever seen.
...It was cold and we was camped ther, had a big bonfire--- we hadn't yet got loaded. It was France Mower, Lou Mower and I and my cousin. We'd been there all day, and a fellow named Charlie Toak. He was there. He use to run a Belgian horse up through the valley here. There was some people from Moroni---Ames, and Ames woman and she had this Mark Zabriskie with her. She was from Mount Pleasant--- she was married to Seely. Anyway he was there one night around a fire talkin' and havin' a good time--- and here come this Carl Toak. He was a son of this Charlie Toak--- he come ridin' a saddle horse over there. Evidently he had been chasin' this woman you know, so he stayed there that night.
The next day we got loaded about noon, maybe a little after, I guess it was afternoon by the time we got loaded and got away from the mine. We got up to Flat Canyon and we met Seely. He was herdin' sheep for somebody up there and was on his way down to the dippin' corral. Toak and this woman (Seely's wife) were riding' with Toak's Dad in his wagon, and the wagon had a cover on it. They had a little horse tied behind it. Seely suspected somethin' and went over to the wagon and pulled the cover up and there sat his wife with Carl Toak.
He tried to pull Toak out of the wagon, but Toak pulled a knife. Seely run over to his packhorse and pulled a rifle out of the pack. While Seely run to get his gun, Toak jumped on the horse tied to the wagon and took off up through Flat Canyon towards me. I was the lead team. As he got to me he said, "You stop him." And I said, "The hell with you, you stop him you're the one that's in trouble!"
So there they went up through Flat Canyon and down across the Beaver dams. Along come ole Seth Hollison, the forest ranger and I asked him where the race was at when he sae 'em and he said thay was up to Gooseberry Hill. Ole Seely was ridin' right behind Toak firin' at him with his six shooter. Seth said he didn't think Seely meant to kill him, but he was sure scarin' the hell out of him. We camped right there at the South end of Flat Canyon. There was plenty of grass and mangers for the horses and after a while Seely come back. He road up to the camp. His wife was there with us because we had all camped there together. She was sittin' right by a log.
When he come up I said, "Did you get 'em?" And he said, "Yeah, I got the son-of-a-bitch, and now I'm gunna get her." And then he pulled his six-shooter and pointed it at her and she just keeped over. (Fainted).
Hell, we didn't know but what he got ole Carl. Later on in the night another group came and a man by the name of Mark Winter and I asked Mark if he'd seen anything of Carl Turk. And he said, "Yeah, I met him down to the ole mill, (south of Fairview) and he still had that little mare on the run. He (Turk) went home and they said he stayed there for 2 weeks. I didn't know at the time but what he shot at him. I wouldn't have blamed him if he'd killed him.
Did you ever have any horses on your farm that were exceptional?
You bet. We had some of the finest teams that ever walked these hills. One of the best teams in the State was here in Mount Pleasant owned by the Seely brothers. They pulled 'em up in Oregon, Boise and the State Fair, they pulled 'em (pulling contests) everywhere.
Did you make good money at the coal camps?
I worked 11 days the month of January 1924 and made $275