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Latah County Oral History Collection

Remembering Latah County and Idaho Life at the turn of the 20th century

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Date: July 12, 1976 Interviewer: Sam Schrager

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GUSTAV CARLSON: — farm out there. And of course, they knew - realized these farms couldn't support that many people, they had to go elsewhere to work. Some few of— he was a family of eleven children- he came of a family of eleven children, he was the eleventh. Eight of those eventually migrated to America; four before he did, four of the older ones, and one brother came with him; they came together. And then two sisters followed at later intervals. So, there were eight that spent most of their lives here. Well, the last one did not come right away, most of her children had migrated first, and she took the two youngest and came over to join them. he.

SS: But his parents didn't?

GC: No, no. Well, his mother was dead almostj So he could bar.

SS: How bad was it in Sweden at that time?

GC: Well, it was hard work and not easy living. I guess nobody ever starved, that is, ? was never complete in Sweden back even in those days and has improved gradually since, it is quite a different country now and has been for a long time. I visited there in 1928 the first time and again in '61. Of course, I could see a tremendous difference in thirty-three years. But then they were pretty well- a lot of things done, they had good roads in and they had lots of cars in '28.

SS: How did your father and mother wind up coming to Moscow?

GC: Well, he had worked there in Minnesota. He went into carpentry, and he worked that and he came first to Spokane. He had a job waiting for him in Spokane, he had been hired by a lumber company that was centered in Minneapolis. They were building out there and they were going to build a mill and he went out there to build that mill, to house the machinery and put it in when it arrived, building the sawmill. And he had a partner in that and took a contract to put up the buildings and put in the machinery when it came. And he continued working there for some time; that was in 1887, I think he came out there- 1887. he went out there before father and managed to find a piece of land which he could buy, and he was work ing on that on his own time building a house on it. She came in the summer and my brother, Paul, was born in the fall of that year, he was third in the family, they already had two children, born in Minnesota. Around 1891, they had some depre SS:ion years there, panics, they used to call 'em, and that wasn't so good, and . work was getting scarcer and he came down to Moscow and that was the Steel Company, and the construction company that was building the first University building in Moscow, a wooden structure. So, he came down to work on that. He was building foreman on that- on the erection I think of the first university there. Quite a few years later burned down, somehow or other, I don't know just what year that was.

SS: That's the administration building.

GC: Well, they just put up a single building, in 1891. No it was wooden, wooden building they put up first. And the next building that went up was brick. I know that the first buildings I ever saw were brick and cement, when I was old enough to see what they were.

GC: He worked the carpentry on that first building University building. And then, how did he wind up deciding to become a farmer? Well, he had gathered together a little money, and he came off of a farm and he had the land idea. taking up land and buying land. And the homesteaders were quite a few and some of the homesteaders were selling out. And that was the land that had been homesteaded out there by a fellow who wanted to sell out and go over to where his relatives, brothers, he had a lot of brothers. You've probably run into some Discolls- well, this was Jack Driscoll. He was a, oh,

SS:- young Jack Driscoll died a few years ago. Did you know him?

SS: I knew of him.

GC: Well, his widow's still living, I think and his son is Dennis Dris coll.

SS: Right.

GC: Well, he was an uncle of this Jack Driscoll. Old Jack, he remained unmarried, but I think he gave his land to his brother Joe's sons.

SS: But then, he wanted to move over to Driscoll Ridge?

GC: Yes, he bought in over there at Driscoll Ridge and his relatives were there. The Driscolls and the Dunns and the Cunninghams were all his relatives. They came originally from eastern " and settled in there.

SS: So, your father-

GC: -bought that land out there. Well, he worked carpentry around Moscow, particularly building houses in the city and in the country around for about- until 1899. He was working at that. And then he bought that land out there. Oh, he continued to work. He worked for a time after he got that to get ready cash, because there were new houses going up, some of the old cabins were being taken down and new cabins (built). He built the house where Clarence Johnson lives. There was a fellow named Liverson lived there at that time, and he wanted that new house built. .One of 'em, and that house where Rudolph Smith lives; you know Slim Smith?

SS: Yeah.

GC: I vaguely remember their going up there. They came, what they did is came in 1902. The kids came in the house but I think Pearson had been up there before; I don't know which year that was erected. I think it was the summer before they started building on it, I think he wasn't satisfied with the little house. He had a big family, about nine children- well, they didn't have nine when they came, I gue

SS: they had eight. And there was a little, old house on that place that could hardly house those so he had to- I believe he completed that house before he moved his family up. He was living down in Genesee, and he continued to own a farm down there after he moved up here.

SS: So, your father could make some money building houses when he was starting farming?

GC: Yes. You see, I don't think there were more than thirty acres broke on that place when we got out there. And the amount of land on top of the hill before it tipped into the canyon,was 160 acres a mile long and a quarter wide. It was about ninety acres. We broke up some rather flat land down in the canyon where it was leveled off. About ten acres more later on. We were busy breaking out that and clearing it of trees and the brush and cutting wood. We sold wood, we did it piecemeal there. I think it was about 1905. From 1899 to 1905 got it all cleared out on top of the original farm.

SS: How much did the kids help?

GC: Oh, I would say, quite a bit. My two oldest brothers were mostly in command of the farming. He was out building a good deal* those years. He built several houses around Burnt Ridge. Some elsewhere in this county. I never did think particularly But I re member, years later, drive by in a car, "Ibuilt this house." He would say. (Chuckles)

SS: Well, You know talking about kids helping the family-

GC: My two oldest brothers, Walter and Paul, Walter at fifteen, well, came sixteen the next spring and he took the brunt of the work around there. And Paul was about three years younger- Paul was alx^ays strong and husky as a kid. Well, years later, he had his troubles, but they did an awful lot of the work; the kids did. And you see, there wasn't too much- they didn't go to school too much. They went to school, but school terms were not like they are now. They didn't go to school nine months of the year. They went about five months, in country schools. A couple of months, maybe in the colder weather in the fall then they generally laid off during the worst of the winter season andAwent about two or three months in the spring. They extended that to about- I don't think they ever got^seven months in the years in which they went to school. Actually the first school year I spent was supposed to be a seven months school, but it wasn't. The teacher left about five to six months, I think. That would have been in 1905.

SS: That was the end of the school year?

GC: the school year and they never went beyond seven months, though they had a good seven months the last two or three years, oh, about five years, I gue

SS: that I school,- One year they had a divided term. Well, I remember my sister, Edith, was in school then, it was supposed to four months of the fall and three months in the spring, but I can't understand how they did that, because they were out too early to have them lay off with that much in between. I think it was ' that.

SS: What did you think of school when you first went there?

GC: Well, I kind of enjoyed it from the first.

SS: What do you remember it being like? Well they had pretty fair teachers there, I suppose. And they rassled with a whole horde of kids there, up to forty, in a single schoolhouse, sometimes, the average was probably less than that. Oh, I could remember, some of the teachers didn't have high qualifications for education, that I know. I don't know what the first two teachers I had had, or three. Well, the third tea cher, he was mainly education in this area and he became a univer sity graduate by going back to school from time to time and was *~ superintendent of a school here in this county, I think it was up at Potlatch before he finally retired, and he just kept on for a long,long time. But he took education piecemeal, while he taught in the meantime, he was already/married.

What was school like for you, you know, as a youngster going there? Could you learn as much as you were ready for, or was it ?

Well, I don't know whether it was or not. They all tried to allow a certain amount of time for all the kids and get 'em started and I don't know that they had any kid out there who was retarded enough that he couldn't learn to read within a fairly short time. They were at least all that bright. They didn't have any real dummies to contend with, you might say. There was nothing particularly bril liant, I suppose, about most of us. But nobody was really on the weak side. There was some that behaved slightly retarded, but the thing is the boys, so often laid out of school in the fall and the spring to help their parents with the work, and so they spent such a too small a time to get the consecutive education in. There were gaps. They'd come back and enter classes with other children. They couldn't make special classes for 'em, they'd just get in and they'd sometimes be in the same grade twice or if they looked ready

GC: for it to the teacher,why move0up to something else. That held true almost up to the end of my school experience out there, except that last year, the state had more stringent school laws. Both qualifi cations of teachers and for attending and compelled them to come back unless they were fit first- eighteen years old before they could stop. That was later lowered to sixteen, because they thought there'd be not much use if they were sixteen to compel them to come back. A whole bunch of 'em came back that winter fairly early, and went to school.

SS: Would you say that most of the boys-

GC: Most of those big boys laid out- started laying out when they were twelve years old, a lot of 'em.

SS: That, in your family?

GC: Well, it more or less happened with Paul and Walter, Now Paul completed the sixth grade and Walter was to be in the eighth. Ellen told roe that she and Walter had been recommended by the teacher in the school they were to take the entrance examinations for the University Preparatory School. They had a University Preparatory High School, for that fall when they came out, but they never en tered because we moved out here. We were out here- that was one thing, too, they hadn't been able to get a teacher that first year. That's when the school stood vacant until spring.

SS: On Burnt Ridge?

GC: On Burnt Ridge. And then they got a girl to teach from- for a few months in the spring.

SS: So then, you kids didn't go to school?

GC: That particular year; the fall of 1899, didn't go to school. The wages were tremendously low for teachers in the country schools. Thirty dollars a month or something like that. But they got this girl from Little Bear Ridge. I think she'd been down to Lewiston; had a school then, or maybe she'd been just through high school or maybe not even that, because they had what they called first, second, third grade certificates and they could teach on a third grade certificate if they passed an examination in school subjects. And that's why some of them wasn't even high school graduates that taught up here. They were^young, but they passed a test in it. Now. Joe said, my brother Joe- later,he went into educa tion arid spent his life at it, that he saw the importance of finding out about those examinations and he saw some old lists of 'em, and he said they gave some hard examinations. Very hard examinations on school subjects so that a person passed those tests it showed he knew something about it, probably a whole lot more than he'd learned in school. So in that respect, you generally got people who were probably quite intelligent. Do you think that most of the teachers in the school, like the Burnt Ridge School and the other ridge schools were capable teachers? I think they did fairly good. Nearly all of them could get the child ren started, the primary kids started, they knew how to do that whether they'd been trained in it or not. And they taught things there. There were one or two that were kind of weak, I think. My brother, Carl, who was there when he was oh, thirteen or fourteen, he said that that teacher they had that year was stuck on hard pro blems in arithmetic. He was always good in math, he became a math teacher later on. And he could see that he was stuck on things and gave the wrong solutions. He could work 'em out himself. But aside from that-

SS: Were they strict? The teachers.

GC: Most of 'em were fairly strict, oh, not-, oh, I can remember Mr. Peterson that was the same man that I said taught early there, I had him for four months one year. He was quite strict. Had a reputation for that. And he's the one that stayed went on and got an education and got himself a good education before he quit -to go back to school. But the only woman teacher I ever had out there, strict.

SS: Were most of the teachers you had, were they men?

GC: All except- That was the only woman teacher I had and that was for only about two months.

SS: I kind of had the idea that most of these schools, it was mostly women teaching.

GC: Well, I think there were lots of women teachers, but somehow on like, well, on BurflTt Ridge they got men teachers. There were quite a few men like, well, Steelsmith here. Frank Steelsmith taught school two years on Burnt Ridge and he did it on a third grade certificate, which means He just had to pass an examination.

SS: I heard that he was a bit of a teacher.

GC: Well, he was, I think in a way. He wasn't particularly strict, but he was hard on some kids, easy on others. I really believe that, I don't think- maybe he thought that he didn't like some kids or some- thing. Ted Sundell I don't know if you know Ted.

SS: Oh, yeah.

GC: Oh, he hated him like sin! But he did something to Ted there that made him mad. Ted was always fooling around, chewing up paper as if it was gum, and to SS:ing out on his desk, he came over there and he just started picking up paper and he said, "Chew it. chew it. Chew it"! a sheet off of his tablet, crumpled it up and said, "Chew it." So, he had his mouth so full that he couldn't hardly move. Ted was about ready to rebel, but he didn't. Ted was a big kid then. He would have been difficult for Steelsmith to handle if he decided to rebel, but he was so mad, that I think he hated Steelsmith from that day. Well, it was a funny kind of punishment.

SS: Yeah, it really was.

GC: add kind of Punlshment for him to be attracting the attention of the other kids and doing it for that purpose, but it was an odd sort of thing to do, make him have so much paper in his mouth that he was near to choking.

SS: Yeah, I can see why he wouldn't like him after that. Well, you know we talked about the kids, the boys laying out of school and helping on the places and it makes me wonder. Do you think that held- do you think that would wind up holding some of the boys back?

GC: Oh, yes, it held them back. If it had been as they are now, those kids would have all gone on to high school probably. Every But in those days, the people didn't think of such thing as high school, they thought that was higher education that was beyond the grasp of a simple farmer and farmers' kids. They had a certain res pect for it, but they thought it took a huge talent. It was the thing for the very brilliant. (Chuckles)

SS: I suppose then that few of 'em would think about college if they didn't go to hi h school.

GC: The first kid to go away to go to school was my brother Joe. Peter son came down and told my dad that Joe wouldn't profit by anymore years-ft he said he's a good scholar. And that year they had a Lewiston Normal School, as it was called. They had a preparatory and a couple of years extra rolled into one, and he went down the to go to school. And later Carl went. Those were the first two that left the Ridge. After we got started, why, we kept on going to school.

SS: Your father didn't mind losing their work?

Oh, no. No, he believed in education. He was sorry that he hadn't had . No, our parents were strong for education and were sorry that they weren't in the position to send everybody in the begin ning. And Mother actually was rather reluctant to leave Moscow, because she thought that they had good schools there. She was really put out when they came out on the farm there that year and found that they hadn't even gotten a school teacher for that fall. Then, too, I could imagine^a lot of women, I don't know how your mother felt about it, but there were some women- to live out on a farm on the Ridge would be, you know, a lot rougher than in town. Oh, yes, it is, it is- it was. Farm women worked hard out there. Most of them had children too, in those days and they didn't have the conveniences. No electricity; no cars, and none of that. It was- as far as going to town was concerned- we seldom went to townAmore often than we'd need to lay in groceries. And they often raised a few cattle and .smoked meat for the off-season. And then bought some fresh. They had cattle and hogs, nearly everybody, chickens. And they raised vegetable gardens, aid all that took time and work. All the chores around the farm. It x*as long days that farmers put in, naturally. No eight hour days, they were nearer fourteen, they got up in the morning, more than that when you count mealtimes in,before they were ready to go to bed.

SS: You mean, the way it sounds- you were saysing, there wasn't any leisure time at all.

GC: There wasn't any leisure during the day, really. You got up in the morning and started taking care of the animals and harnessing horses and getting ready for the fields, a large part of the time, spring and fall. Even in the summer there was haying and culti vating and things of that sort and then breakfast after you had taken care of your animals,Amto the fields. At noon you'd have a little leisure time, you had to rest your horses enough to- so they could stand the work, too, you know. And suppertime and then chores after supper. Oh, I don't know, there were times when it wasn't so Bushing, you know. Wintertime there was much less times, al ways went out and cut wood, usually then. Laid up a year's supply of firewood. It was all wooden stoves, of course, and they really burned wood. It was the cheapest thing that they had and most of 'em had a little on their places. Some were sort of lacking in that. And then they spent their leisure time breaking out

GC: - used to walk through woods about the last quarter mile on our place, and we used to cut acro SS: to what they called the Aller road. That was on the Aller place, you could cut off a little on the way to school that way, a shorter way through. And he has a lot of woods down there, that you'd walk through first before we came up to where his fields began. There's not a tree on that place now, except maybe some on a piece of scab ground. (Chuckles)

SS: Do you think that your found the work hard?

GC: Oh, yes. Mother was always the worker. She couldn't stop working, even when she was old, she was always dabbling in something, if it was nothing else, she'd make quilts and crochet things; bedspreads and things like that. And she was still working on something that winter that she got her bad cold, which went into influenza and died, She was eighty-six then.

SS: She was well known as a nurse and midwife, too, wasn't she?

GC: Well, a midwife, yes, I don't know when Mother learned that really. But she knew, she'd had children herself, but she had midwifed children I think in Spokane and in Moscow when we lived there. Spo kane was just largely a village of tents when they came there in 1887 and with quite a bunch of the Spokane Indians camped nearby. Actually when she was- when Joe was born there she had Indian woman help her for a while in the house there. She never bothered too much about Indians, but she thought it was rather too much when the women's husbands came to collect their wages. He didn't wait until she was home, he didn't even let the wife take the wages home.

SS: What kind of midwifing-what do you remember it being like? Or doing the midwifing?

GC: I'v known. They would call on her before they got- well, let's see. It was about 1908 or '09 when they got telephones. I was about eight-nine years old- the telephones out there and that helped some. But I imagine, let's see- I think it was earlier than that, about 1907 they managed to get phones in there, and that made it easier but they'd come and notify somebody and sometimes- when she was going acro SS: to Americn Ridge, and the only way that she'd go was eigher walk or on horseback, and usually one of the boys would go with her across the canyons there on the trails. She went over there a couple of times to deliver babies at the Moody house. I don't know ifNthe Moddy family's still around here or not. There was a Ted and an Ole.

SS: Would she deliver the baby? Would she actually deliver the baby her self, and then would she stay and nurse the mother?

GC: Well, she'd stay for some little time til she saw it was alright, or she could get some help in the house, if she needed it,yes. And, oh, she delivered some there on the Ridge. I don't know just how many she delivered there.

SS: Was she doing all her own chores as well as that?

GC: Well, when she was away on a midwifing, why, we took care of the house. I had an older sister who came fourteen in the fall that we came to the farm and she was very capable housewife at that age, I'd say, I think she was. I couldn't recall anything her about for several years, I was a baby then. And she always seemed to be grown up- she was between thirteen and fourteen years older than I was. And there was Edith, she was about three and a half years older than I was, too, later on. But Ellen went out to work early, too. There was so many things that could be done, you don't see prune orchards on Burnt Ridge now, but there was se veral large prune orchards there, and they had these driers, that they constructed, frame building driers with racks and things and knew how to dry their prunes. I wish they'd lasted until I had a look at 'em see how they were operated, but they began taking them down about that time because they found that they didn't make much on the prunes and they did better on the wheat.

SS: Your sister worked out?

GC: She worked out a good many times. She went, I think that same fallno, not the same fall- that same year that wetcame out there, she was working that fall and winter came and there was no school out there, she came into town and worked in one of the grocery stores that winter. They didn't think anything)particularly about age of kids going to work, as long as they did the work. And I remember she was going off cherry picking and prune picking and apple picking. There were orchards, all kinds. And disappeared

SS: She would stay at the farmers?

GC: Yes, they'd stay at the farmers. They came in a big groups sometimes in these large cherry orchards. Oh, they'd bring their own blankets and they'd find a place for 'em to sleep in some outbuilding, and sometimes just in some area they'd lay out these old blankets under the stars. And there was a lot of that going on. She worked on Little Bear Ridge and American Ridge and some of 'em moved downstarted in the early picking down Lewiston country, went that far.

SS: She would go by herself?

GC: Well, she. be other girls; they generally went in groups. And they did some right on Burnt Ridge for a while. I know the Kellberg place out there, well, they called it the Kellberg place, Ernie Anderson there now, he married one of the Kellberg daughters. There was a big prune orchard on that one and a drier. And Sanders lived just opposite us. We had 160 and he had 160 parallel, a mile and a quarter mile and he bought up some old canyon land, farms, that people were ready to abandon and sell for any sum because it didn't amount to anything but pasture land and they were silly to try to cultivate it. Most of 'em weren't really that, one fellow I know lived down there in the farm- what was our home place, small house and he had a sizeable family, I don't know how they got 'em in it.

SS: Lived up in the canyon?

GC: Yes, in the canyon down there on a little flat, where they could make a garden around it. And sometime- somebody had occupied it before him and had a pear orchard. That's on what is now the Trout place out-Vhere.

SS: How could he make a living?

GC: Well, he didn't make a living on that. He worked for the railroad and kept his family out there and they raised garden and he was a section hand. He didn't make much either. With quite a family, they had a spot to live on and raise a garden. That was about all he wanted and a little hay for a horse, something like that.

SS: Were there a number of people living in the canyon at that time

GC: Well, there are at least- one, two, three, let's see there was about four hou ?es, old hou ses, I remember around the southern part of Burnt Ridge, the point down there.

SS: They were in the woods.

GC: Well, it was not very heavy woods on those canyon sides. Well, the other had pretty good timber around it, yes, and a little flat and actually we cultivated that afterwards, some. haytiown there and fed it to the cattle, usually in the canyon. Cut and stacked it down there. And then around the other side was what was called the Cusick place, and that was a bigger cabin, but I never did see it whenjanybody occupied it; they'd gone. And that land was bought by Sanders, he just used it for pasture. I don't know, he must have got it at price- cheap figure; they wanted anything they could get out of it. And up the canyon, just about opposite the Rudeen place; you know where Jhat is; well, Arthur Anderson owned- Arthur Anderson's son- George Anderson, you know him, he owns it down there which is an old brick house. Rudeen, Paul Rudeen's father- do you know Paul?

SS: No, I didn't.

GC: He didd about four years ago. His widow's still living, Mike Rudeen's out here. You've probably met Mike.

SS: Yeah, I know who he is.

GC: Well, his grandfather settled in there and he bought that land. And a family named Monahans lived there. Monahan was a son-in-law of Cusick. And that was a still better house, quite a bit better. And then there was another one; oh, it wasn't but a little the canyon, why he didn't- I don't know how it is, it must have had some topland so close to it and why he didn't build his house up on top, I don't know, but he didn't. Wheeler, was his name. And that was abandoned, too; all of those were abandoned, except this one that was on the which Sanders bought, our neighbor first. He it^for pasture land. And I remember that family just rented that place that was living in there. It was homesteaded by a fellow named Coberland. This fellow lived there Hagen. And I don't know how many children there were, but I went down there when I was a little kid about five years old, seemed to be an unending stream of little girls around there. (Chuckles) Most probably fewer than I thought.

SS: You know, in some places I have heard that they would have-some of the neighbors would have disputes over there land,the boundaries and that kind of thing.

GC: Oh, that's happened a few times, I think. Actually, that has hap pened. There was a little fellow on American Ridge. He picked up eighty acres of land; only about ten acres- I don't think there ten acres- six or seven on top of the hill. Dad built his house for him, and the rest of it was down there and he had an exaggerated idea of how much pasture you could get out of th«f . The steep hill side on the American Ridge and timber, not much grass reached up a little ways on Burnt Ridge, across hat, bordering our place and he started surveying it himself. And he couldn't survey,Agot his lines all crooked. I think on the other side of the- on our side we saw it was coming altogether wrong and talked to him about it. And his son, Fritz, came over there, he saw it was wrong, too, he helped straighten his father out, so he got that fence he already started fencing it and setting up posts. We told him to ask the sur veyor to come out and do it, we wanted to make sure that he understood that he was wrong and they laid itAdown to the corner, but it was way off- about sixty, seventy yards off of his lines. His lines weren't even straight. I don't know, I don't remember too much about the boundary, that probably came before- in the early days when ti was all wooded and they didn't know to find the stones. They put heavy stones, put markings on them that they ujtalerstood and sometimes when they did that, we found that they'd put a stone- sank it right in the roadway before it entered our place, and there was supposed to be a stone there so they started digging down. He took a few measurements, he looked up the road and says it should be the county road which took so much at side, fifty feet wide, said this is in the middle of the road here and it should be here and he found it, a great big stone had been buried there as a corner stone. I don't know, I think that survey had gone through but who knew where to find those stones, and they'd have to have a surveyor out and most of 'em couldn't afford to- afford that much.

SS: So the surveyor had laid stones, right along.

GC: Yes. He had.

SS: I wonder if there were trees that they would probably prefer to put a mark on trees.

GC: Well, if there was a tree nearby, the description said so many feet from a tree, that's what it said by this, and they said- and there was something hung in the tree. I don't know what they said they up it hung in the tree. Anyway, one of the surveyors climbed - measurec where it should be and - here this must be the tree and he out climbed up the tree ajeld says, "Here it is." And the marking was just about gone, he said, "but this is it, alright, here." Something had been wired to it. I think it was a little stone, cir cled wire around it and put the wire in this tree and he wired the tree. The tree had been growing in the meantime and it had em bedded the wire in there- into it. Of course, what they needed was a surveyor's description before they could start looking for those stones. And sometimes those trees got cut down in the process of clearing the land. I don't remember on Burnt Ridge itself of any disputes; Did you hear of any?

SS: Not boundaries, no. I was thinking in more general disputes. I was thinking about whether you knew of any disagreements among the old neighbors around.

GC: Well, no, - there was disagreements with neighbors, those things took place, of course, like every once in a while they- somebody thought the other one was acting like a bad neighbor and not keeping up his share of the fences and things like that. Oh, there was things like that happened, I guess I know one neighbor in the old days, the he'd sort of made to his house ran right through a neighbor's place through woods there, came out to the main road. And he'd used it so many years he sort of regarded it as his own, but actually, it wasn't. He was entitled to egress along the line fence and then corner and then follow another line fence where they laid the public roads. He didn't like it at all, but nothing came of it. I think he was somewhat ignorant of the law. He thought if he used the road long enough it became his.

SS: What do you think made a good neighbor, or on the other hand, a bad neighbor?

GC: Oh, someone that wasn't- if there was things to be done together and they wanted certain work done then he helped you and you'd help him and you would try not to be unreasonable in your charges and willing to pay for his. You'd be willing to pay for work he does and sometimes you just exchanged work, but not to be (unjreasonable about it, to be reasonable about how much work should be done for the other. And generally keeping up your own shares of the fences that needed- because horses and cattle loose in the fields at certain times of the year, like in the fall before they sowed. And they often had fields fenced off, too, so that they-

SS: Do you think that—?

GC: Sometimes, of course, they were just personalities that clash- That was a fairly normal neighborhood most places. That group that was there- I don't know, a lot of them were people that had homesteaded. Quite a few were original- of the original homesteaders there were very few that actually remained too long. The Ruberg family was one. Mrs. Walner owns that part now, down on Burnt Ridge. I don't know if she lives there or not yet.

SS: I haven't met her?

GC: No. And Jack Driscoll, that we bought from was one, and Sanders one. He was a Canadian.

SS: You would think that most of that land had changed hands by the time your family came out?

GC: A large part of it already had changed hands. I don't know who orid She ginally was the- Any Allert livea but he came a few years after us. He bought from Gerard, but Gerard was more of a land speculator than a farmer. He bought some places out there.

SS: You talk about personality conflicts; what would something like that not interested in names or anything.

GC: Over? Oh, yes, they just generally forgot about it eventually.

SS: Well, but I mean what would cause it in the first place?

GC: Oh, I don't know, it's just- oh, the same thing as somebody- some body was a little bit of a bully and tried to run things and some body'd call him on it.

SS: I was thinking, you know, that to be living in the same place for years and years with the same neighbors that you could have some thing that would build up with time-

GC: Oh, yes, it's true, they were and I believe they were seldom lasting. And very peacefulest of the time. You did have one hotheaded neigh bor there, he eventually moved, too, but he lived there a long time. His father wasithe youngi^Tan, it was the son that was hotheaded. He was just But he calmed down as he got older, too. Got married, had a family, he was very quiet then. (Chuckles) Strictly, I wouldn't recall what started any of it, little things. I know, I heard of this- these other two a fued started up between a couple of fellows over a disagreement.

SS: Did most of the people there go to the same church?

GC: They did. But by the time we got there the large part of them were, and they got moreso. That community became rather Swedish in ori gin. Sanders was not, he was a Canadian, he and his wife and-fhevhad relatives out here, a whole bunch of them. Mrs. Sanders had three brothers and a sister, they all came by way of Minnesota and I think those old folks moved out their parents first in covered wagon days. They were real old-timers. One of the first settlers probably in the area around Troy.

SS: What was the church? Was it just at the end of Burnt Ridge?

GC: No. We never had one on Burnt Ridge.

SS: Oh, I didn't know that.

GC: We came to Troy.

SS: Oh, they came to Troy?

GC: The Lutheran Church at Troy and it's still in existence, it's the one that's had a continuous existence there. I think it's probably subscribers for the only one that's had a really continuous existence it since that time. And there were a lot of them Swedes and Nor wegians settled north of Troy and east of Troy toward Deary onto that area there andA northern parts of Little Bear and Big Bear Ridgeswell, they were a mixture of course, and then there was pure brutespurely one thing or the other. When I started school- well,.Sanders ~^Mtfy was living there, but Sanders moved over to Melrose. He got that idea when he- he went out harvesting, as they called it, they had these long harvests with steam engines and he was a good steam en gineer anqhis son usually went with him as the water hauler with the four-horse team. And he worked for somebody over;on the Nez Perce Prairie, that wanted him back every year, he could handle an engine and he didn't want to lose him, so he got interested in land over there so he sold this place to a fellow who was also trying to speculate in land. that lives in Troy. An oldish man then, but he was interested in buying and selling land. And he sold this here and moved over there. But then he got the bug to go to Canada, and some of his brothers were already in- had reaced western Canada from eastern Canada and he spent about three years there and then he went up and homesteaded in Alberta, near Calgary. I talked with his daughter here about five or six years ago, Kyoungest daughter, who was a little older than I was, and he died about two years after he got there; heart attack. She said the family never knew that he had a heart condition, he never told them. Said, besides her dad was too old to pioneer fit his age. He was a pretty old man to have as young a family, must have married late in life.

SS: One thing I was thinking of- do you happen to know where Burnt Ridge got its name?

GC: Well, I'm not so sure, but they said there'd been a fire across that and it burnt out . I believe that there'd been a pretty good flame at one time, because there were still charred trees in our canyon, charred- stems, so there'd been some fire up that distance, how much of Burnt Ridge it had covered, I don't know.

SS: I heard that the Indians did quite a bit of burning. liked

GC: Well, you know, they did burning, or they the underbrush to disappear, so they would set fire at damp time of the year and let the underbrush get started and usually didn't harm the big trees. And then it was kind of clear. Cleared enough so that the big fires wouldn't so ctten start during the summer, during the hot months, because it's the small brush at the bottom that gets the big ones started, they have to get up enough heat before they start streaking up into the sky and burning the big timber. They used to do that they said because they wanted to be able to see through the trees for the deer hunting in the fall. Get them cleared out. And they'd do it year after year and it didn't do much damage to the big timber and it helped them in hunting. It wasn't so easy for the deer to hide. Well, there was logic in their way of looking at it.

SS: You know, when you were talking about your sister working out and about the boys helping at home clearing land, and what that makes me really wonder about is, what the mea was about - the parents held then about whether the work that the kids did was for the kids or whether it was for the parents. How did they look at it?

GC: Well,, I suppose the main thing was they really believed that they should control the kids incomes, that varied with parents, some were more liberal than others in their way of looking at things and the kids usually have some say in how their earnings went and others didn't.

SS: What was your father's attitude?

GC: Oh, he wanted to make sure that we didn't —


GC: — there shouldn-t be anything wasted on- on what he would think of as foolishness. Ellen used to bring home things a lot for us smaller children, I remember that, some nice article of clothing or something like that to please us, even a few toys, when you were small. The boys used to go out harvesting too, Walter went out a good deal and the younger ones could take care of the work during the summertime, the chores and hayA and things like that, before the bean raising began and this country was all beans before it was peas, like they have now. There wasn't such a heavy summer schedule until the grain ri pened, it was just hay. And beans came on they had to be culti vated for weeds, they planted 'em in rows and that was always a summer long job for when they come out of the ground that occupied people. They had to hire- and they hired largely kids from town in the summertime to come out and hoe beans. And that got to be too expensive a method when wages kept going high, too, and they found peas did better. The first peas didn't seem to do as good, I think they improved the quality of those- of field peas, or somethingmaybe they didn't know how to fertilize like they do now. Of course, they planted without fertilization for many years and they found that beans helped. It's a nitrogen ple*nt, you know, it's a nitrogen absorbing plant and that's why it was so popular, too, they could raise better wheat if it had beans on it the year before. And they idle had to fallow before that. They just had to let it lie and grow up to weeds and then grind it in with the disc, kill 'em off every so often. But the development of* beans as an alternate crop they gen erally had something sowed on an acre every year now. That didn't begin until the end of beans, about 1908 and '09 in large quantities, Oh, I remember a little bean field x*e had about ten acres once be fore, but that was harvested ourselves by hand- by pulling the beans and threshing them off on a canvas. It was a slow, painful process but we put away several sacks of beans for ourselves for the year and sold a little excess That comes more under the head of gar dening than it does of a money crop.

SS: So, you practiced fallowing prior to that? You'd grow wheat and then leave it fallow the next year?

GC: Well, not two years,Aevery other year, every three years or four years, fallow the ground, and then change from wheat to oats, to oats or barley.

SS: What do you mean? After the fallow?

GC: Well, generally right after the fallow wheat, then follow it with oats, maybe one year or two years, oats or barley, and more oats than barley. This recent development of barley is a little bit- The recent development of barley is sort of a renewal. There was a time when they almost quit barley and they got as good prices for the oats and they could raise more of it, usually. Much more oats and less barley raised at one time. Now, those were the only ones. Cook, some people raised some corn crops and some potato crops, but nobody ever made anything great on 'em, and they were discon- tinued. neighbor that came out from Oklahoma, he lived just north of us, that place is owned by Ed Ramsdale now, but he had tried several things and some of that land was young and he raised some big corn crops.

SS: Raised corn there?

GC: Corn. Got some big crops on it and he got some potato crops. But he didn't have much luck with sale on those things, either. Po tatoes 'd be low and potatoes had an uncertain value. And sometimesoh, we had a neighbor, before he bought that place, which once be longed to Sanders, it was rented out for a period of three years to a couple of different farmers, one stayed one year and one stayed two and the last year, they paid such high prices for potatoes the year before that he thought he'd make it on potatoes. My goodness the bottom dropped out of them the next year, so much so, that he didn't even haul all his potato crops to town. Couldn't make wages on it.

SS: What about corn? I wondered about corn. It seemed to be if you could grow it some places-

GC: Oh, it grows alright, but we just can't compete with the Midwest on corn, for a corn country. It just doesn't seem to be as good Acorn in the country here. They took in some of this special highgrade corn they developed in Iowa and Nebraska and those places and tried to get it- but they sometimes often put in more or less as a garden crop; sweet corn, and use it during the summer so they'd have the corn on the cob to eat. All along I think- I don't know if there's|any gardeners left that didn't do that. Heck, Bruce did it out there when he was living east of Deary, they had a little sweet corn. Sweet corn and sunflowers.

SS: What species of wheat were people growing on Burnt Ridge?

GC: Well, it's changed with the

SS: I mean back around the turn of the century.

GC: Oh, there was what they called Little Club, belonged to the club wheats and it was succeeded largely by the Jenkins Club which had a red

SS: The Jenkins Club?

GC: Jenkins Club, and Little Club and Big Club as they called them, named after the- more about the size of the kernels- the size of the heads than the kernels. The Little Club usually yielded heavier. Smaller heads, but more of them. Stoo^ out more. And then they began getting- and Red was a type. That was brought in from the Ukraine. And Turkey Red. That was a Turkish wheat,^it was a bearded wheat. And they were reddish kernels, both of them. Red Russian soft what, but Turkey Red was a hard wheat and commanded a little premium. Main trouble was it didn't yield as well as the other kind, the soft wheat and most people will quit it because too many less bushels to the acre than could be covered by the premium from the hardness Blue Stem was an old favorite. It was both spring wheat and the fall wheat. Turkey Red and Red Russian were fall wheats. Little Club and Big Club were spring wheat. Jen kins Club could be planted either way. And then I remember several of the other- we begun getting hybrids. Hybrid No. 128 and Hybrid No. 143, we raised both of those kind.

SS: Did you do a lot of experimenting and people in general in those days?

GC: Yes, they would try new wheats came out and new varieties of oats. I remember what they called side oats, instead of just a spray of heads they were in clusters of four or five, six to a side, to the side b oats. Looked kind of unbalanced, small I don't know, it seemed to be about as good as any other.

SS: Did you ever hear about Adams Alaska wheat? That fellow from Julia etta that was putting out-

GC: Well, there was a- what they called the Alaska wheat at one time, I remember. I don't remember it too well, but it was introduced down here. Maybe it was the same or not,as Adams.

SS: This fellow in Juliaetta was pushing his won wheat that he called Alaska wheat.

GC: Lately?

SS: No.

GC: Long time ago.

SS: Yeah, around 1910.

GC: Maybe that was it, I don't recall much about that, except there was a so-called Alaska wheat. I sort, imagined that was one of those hardy wheats that they could grow around Fairbanks on the short season basis in the summer.

SS: Well, let me ask you- could you describe to me pretty much what the season was like? When you first- what you would do for the planting and taking care of them and the harvesting the crop and when you star ted it and when you finished it?

GC: Well, starting the you tried to get as much fall wheat as you could. And that entailed- before they started raising beans, entailed the summer fallow to s eed it along in September- or I mean, October or November, usually, they wanted to get good rains it and sprout it up. And there was some difference there. I remember wheat it was much raised and lasted longer and probably still used, forty fold wheat, because the proper time to put it in, most people thought was the last thing before the snow fell, just have enough moisture to sprout it underground and it lay there until spring and come out in the spring. So it was tricky trying to determine just how late they should risk it. And they tried- a normal way when they started raising beans was to use the bean ground and get that in as soon as they could after the be^xis were harvested off. The bean harvest was usually later than the wheat harvest; get the wheat harvest done mostly in August and the bean harvest might last into September. And then vou'd sow that and then you'd go to plowingAthings and try to get all the plowing done that was possible in the fall. The idea was to get it all done but the type of season you had sometimes interfered and depending on the land, rains, you couldn't determine how rainy or how dry a fall you'd have. We had falls where there was mild enough even if you had a little rain to plow to the end of November, others where they'd by stop the first of November.

SS: Were there falls where you couldn't get the wheat in at all?

GC: Well, I don't remember any on our own farm, at that time, when I was a kid. But, they always managed to get the farming in sometime. But;I think there have been one or two falls like that, I've heard of here where it started raining in September and didn't quit long enough to get the fields dry enough.

SS: Wheat was the only crop that you put in in the fall?

GC: Yes. There was a fall barley, but I don't believe too many of 'em used fall barley, too afraid it might freeze out. Wouldn't stand the winter, and so they put it in in the spring. Oats was strictly a fall crop and much more popular during the years that I grew up out there than it is later on. Oats was planted in the spring? h'the spring, yes. And barley, they planted barley. But people didn't want to plant their wheat in the spring? Well,they couldn't get it in in the fall, like that, then they would plant it in the spring. And some split it, put in spring wheat too. Sometimes the fall and^winters were too severe and the fall wheat was slow coming on in the spring, the cold springs, and it wasn't any better than if they would have planted in the spring. There were what they called spring wheats and fall wheats, like Blue Stem and Big Club in the old days were the principal spring wheats. Later on Jenkins Club was used in the spring, too. Then thev had the fall wheats.

SS: What kind of winter did the farmer hope for for the wheat?

GC: Well, what you hoped for was not too cold a winter, and since they knew they was going to be freezing and more sometime or other, they liked a good snow cover, because the snow on top of the snow would absorb the freezing and it isn't like Alaska where it freezes the soil a long ways down and it would be kind of frost free on the surface if had a good covering of two feet of snow. That would be a nice amount to have over the fall wheat until it melted in the spring and then they could afford a hard freeze after the snow was gone. They were sort of set for that. That was one of the risks of course, of fall wheat, that the snow would disappear under Chinook or under rain and it would have a hard freeze on that stuff you got beforeAa snow cover. That was called winter-kill, was the term generally used, and is still used, Ithink, where fall wheat (is)planted, I guess practically all this planted around here now is fall wheat, isn't it?

SS: Yes, the wheat.

GC: Uh-huh. I don't think too many people plant spring wheat except if they got stuck.

SS: Were Chinook winds pretty common then?

GC: Oh, yes, they always thought they would get one or two during the winters.

GC: Yes, a little flurry of snow before a freeze would come.

SS: Sometimes you would lose part of that anyway.

GC: Oh, yes, it would be damaged. I don't remember that we ever had down our farm one so damaged that we replanted, it looked fair enough to bring a good crop and I think our fall wheat was the best ever had there, really. It was a steady diet. It really made a big difference then to get it in in the fall rather than the spring?

GC: Um-huh. Beans were very good for a while and the price was so comparable enough that you didn't need to have- later on, they raised beans with a lot more pounds to the acre but then the expenses grew on and the price didn't rise in proportion, taking all the harvesting that beans take. take cutting, don't handle them with combined har vester or it'll shatter 'em out, had to be cut together and put through a threshing rig. Stacked and let dry a little and then hauled 'em in or stack them, one of the two. And they often stacked 'em be cause it was felt that the weather would be too undefendable at that time a year in September or late August to risk the rain them because they'd have to- if they would start laying there and drying out the seeds would start popping- the pods would start popping open. They would stack them and then dry them out? No, they let 'em dry. Then they'd stack 'em.

GC: Stack and top them, generally with a canvas or^straw and wait for a threshing machine to get around. That was one of the ways. Of course the first threshing machines that I know, all threshed out of stacks. They stacked their grain. There weren't so many threshing machines that they could get to- you didn't know how many weeks you'd have to wait before you could get it threshed. We had to wait an awful long time one year before we got a deal. They had an old horsepower through rig. And by the way, I saw- we were going my sister-in-law's pictures here, and there was a picture of her father, Mr. Cummings, it was marked with an arrow and that was he, and they didn't see where they got the power, somebody asked me, oh, it Darcell's husband- Mavis' son-in-law, well, here it was, a group of about six teams going 'round and 'round on a power machine, and that was whatthrough a cable, not a cable, it was a rod.that turned over and over and turned the threshing machine. That's the first kind I remember. They had that kind on Burnt Ridge,the first time I saw them. And that year that thing couldn't work went out of commission and left the Pearson family, who lived^where Slim Smith now lives and our family and Porter- but Porter, he had a threshing machine. We lived down there below Slim Smith's and I don't know if there was a house at the edge of the canyon, I don't know if there was a house left there or not, but that was mostly a canyon one, very small, but he owned a threshing machine and he was a threshing machine man.

SS: Left these families without any threshing?

GC: Well, he had very little- yes. He had his family living there but he did very little farming, he was a horseman. He did horse work.

SS: I mean is, is this when this went out of commission

GC: No, this othere one here, it was just gone, didn't know how to fix it or too expensive, it was owned by a few people - owned stock in it, bought it together. He, he came down at the end of the season, he'd been out threshing, oh, quite a ways away from Troy with his threshing machine and he pulled in he threshed Pearson's first, which is nearest his place and he came down and threshed ours. The first stem rigs was on that- Burnt Ridge, threshed those two places at the end of the season. We had our grain stacked, of course, like did, of course, in those days and we'd had rain in between, it was dried off at that time. They hauled up that threshing machine over that grade coming up the road there, the road to our p ce in there and threshed. Sanders wasn't raising any grain in those days, hardly. I think maybe he had moved away that year, it is possible that he had.

SS: Is that why they stacked it instead of leaving in the field?

GC: Because they wanted it protected against the rain? Protect it against rain, because they didn't know how long it would be before they could get (it) threshed.

SS: And then they went over towards leaving it in the fields when they felt more confident that threshing machines would make it?

GC: Yes.

SS: Because I know in later years they did a lot more of that bundling than they did.

GC: oh Yes they started that. When you had a season of twenty-five daysthreshing season could be done in about twenty-five to thirty days, they went to leaving it in the bundles. K Sometimes they had to wait two months before a threshing machine.

SS: What changed that?

GC: They got more machines in, more people could buy machines. There were an awful lot of people that didn't have much cash to buy^thing . And there were very few threshing machines, old-fashioned types too, and they got better threshing machines ' worked. Not many years after that time there, oh, I think, let me see, I know we had threshing machines came in on Burnt Ridge from outside for a couple of years. Paine- there's still Paine families around Troywould be grandfather or great grandfather to most of 'em, he brought one in*once. And Hokenson, Hokenson and Gunderson- there's still Hokensons I know, too, around here, from Bear Ridge. They brought a threshing machine in and then the farmers went together and pur chased one. They got the price of a new machine and everybody that wanted to put in as many dollars as he thought he could, so they got enough to buy it, threshing and engine.

SS: So, it was joint-owned.

GC: Joint-owned, with each man having so much stock in it according to how much he put in. We were in on that and nearly all the farmers were. I believe a few of the very small farmers didn't go into it and some that were renters didn't go into it. (^plUSeJ Now, if you had good weather in the fall and you were planting on bean ground on which weed cultivators had been run during the summer and it was still pretty loose and weed free, the thing to doprobably the best thing to put on it was a springtooth harrow, you know, those goes over in springs and pulls in behind, and that usu ally was very good at level ing little spots in there and usually loosened it up enough you could seed right in it. Sometimes if there was a little too much weed handled in there it probably be better to use a spiketooth harrow on top of the springtooth, or afterwards, to smooth the ground after seeding. Sometimes they just put it in and you were through. That's when you Wbve springtooth into a drill, that's when you have bean ground. And, of course, on summer fallow, you usually used a disc harrow. Rolling disc, you've seen them too clean^that up and you uaually had to use a spiketooth on that to level it, to get out those ridges that the disc formed and then put the drill in. Usually you didn't need a harrow afterwards, sometimes people did to make it smoother, as smooth as possible for witner and figured onee the snow was on it would pack evenly and they wouldn't much . Usually they had on these drills a little chain back of these shoes at which the seed went into the ground that was very good level,If you had drags one with a good- with those good little on 'em, they were made different, some were lots better than others, it acted much like a leveler. Now for beans, it was best to start with the Nand let lie open during the summer to absorb as much moisture as posssible before the- under the ground moisture and generally leveled real it. Sometimes had to level it if it was bumpy and^washed by heavyby several thaws and several that- and a spike tooth harrow was the best thing to level it with. And then usually it is better to just sometimes you put a disc on, not so bad, sometimes you put- if it was bad you might put the spiketooth first and then you disc, other times you'd reverse that according to the condition of the ground to get it level. And then it'd be- that was done as early as pos sible, but it didn't need to be done too early. There was no use preparing it too early because- we always considered it dangerous to plant much before midMay, because of late freezes and get the crop in and have the ground cold and freeze and the ground cold and the beans wouldn't sprout so good. But sometimes earlier, the tenth of May or so on, like that and plant on into midJune,put in a garden as late as that and sometimes the weather forced postponement, so that was one reason why they wanted to start as early as they could if they felt the ground had warmed up sufficiently to sprout beans well. That, you nearly always had that harrowed and often they used to run a roller^ it. Some people had these log rollers, homemade, a big log and they bored a hole right through the center and put a rod through there and this log was used to roll ground and make it even. Break down all the clods and have it real smooth. Some used what they caled a clod masher, those were usually homemade, too. Made of heavy planks and sort of built one slanting this way and one slanting under it always, so that they'd fit down and if you had a little rough field and it was dried out enough that there was some weight;it pretty big clods in it yet, why, you could if you wanted to and oh, just use stones or anything to weight it to make it suf ficiently heavy to smash those things down. They were generally a two-horse rig, in the horse days, and the roller was a two-horse rig

GC: See the markings of the bean planters, see, they went up and down two of them at a time, two, and keep them the same far apart they usually use a little stake to set at each end. I know when we used to run the stake with string attached to one side of the field to the other as a guideline, run to keep the rows as straight as pos sible for cultivating, so that the cultivator could be handled on it without tearing up beans. If they were out of line it would )te that. But lately they got a bean planter with a trip on them. These very first ones they required a wire trip, a wire coiled across the field right between the horses and it had little knots in it all the way and it was tripped on those things, those were the first? That was a slow process you had to reset those every time you came to the end of a row and put them back. But those were succeeded by a trip that they had right on it an automatic trip on the- to let the beans down. They planted, say flat beans, two feet apart, but some of em took off that trip afterA and planted a single row just letting the beans fall in a small space so you one bean at a time as you walked along, one or two beans and filled the row complete. They wanted to have them so they could cultivate both ways, The first one is squares, north and south, say on a field and then east and west. That was given up after a fex* years and it made it much easier. You generally just watched where the succeeding line was, where the wheels just run up and you either just guess the distance, estimate so that you were the right distance all the way up or you could attach a little marker like a kind of a, oh, it was usually a slat and another^to it, at a certain distance, nailed to it so that slat would be following the previous mark, the wheel you mark of the previous one and then you always knew how far'away from Of the other track so as you could make- the team would step^easy on the bit and they would guide nice and straight up and down, you could get rows that to be^a perfect pattern. I know we had a dandy team for that in later years there, high- black mare and a horse that could walk right along with her and they just stepped off those bits and you had to hold them to a certain spot and they went right up the line and down the other.

Black bear?


I thought Bear was the name of- of that horse, you know.

No, a mare that's a kind of a leader in the field team, she could lead out and set the pace, if you had a six-horse team working, some thing like that.

When you were planning like that, would you do it from early morning until nightfall?

Well, actually- sometimes you could put in a long day, but then, now it depends on what you were doing. You wouldn't want to start plantingNif there was a heavy dew on the ground the night before, you wanted it to dry out so that the shoes that were planting the ground where the seed fell through would run along that without clogging with mud and the same way with the drill. If you'd had a little too much rain, a little rain probably wouldn't hold you up more than an hour or a heavy dew. You waited for that to come off in seeding, or in plowing- oh, even in harrowing it could get a lit tle too moist sometimes early morning to start out, but plowing you'd usually start right out on that, it didn't bother much, un less it had a rained and really got muddy. But there was warm days particularly the harvest days were long days. They threshed as much as- oh, some of 'em made eleven hours, some made thirteen hours in the field threshing because everybody was anxious to get this done. They didn't object to long hours in order to get that done. And the wages, of course, were naturally higher for harvest work than any other time, when the wheat harvest was on and the bean harvest was on. And they'd thresh long hours. They shortened 'em up as the years went by, didn't go quite as long. I know when my brother, , sewed sacks, that was one of the hard jobs on a threshing machine for Edmundson and Paine- went out to that Ridge and they'd put in a fourteen hour day in work, their meals outside of that, which was something. And they had one of what was known as a very big rig at that time, they'd 1,600, 1,700 sacks in a day. And a grain sack weighed about 140 pounds, they hold of wheat, sack sewers and they usually use two to handle that. A man could be plenty tired I think, handling 600, 700, 800 sacks in a day's time,-for fourteen hours. That was, of course, always determined whether they were in good heavy grain or not. The heavier the grain the faster they turned out the sacks. If they had a fellow that had a remar kably good crop of wheat, forty bushes, or forty-five bushels, that was good for those days. They didn't have these fertilizers to take care of it. Then the grain really rolled through.

SS: What would the average be?

GC: Oh, I suppose, year in and year out, thirty bushel or thirty-five for fall wheat. Highly variable according to seasons, of course. There was lots of forty bushel wheat one year and sink to twenty bushel wheat in a bad year. But it was the day be fore fertilizers. It was a little more consistent I think, after they started raising beans, peas and beans, some raised peas. The peas took on in the eastern Latah County, up through Deary and to ward those hills up there before it- they began raising it down on the ridges. Awas tne cooler summers they had up there and higher ground and the peas nearly always got cooler weather when they needed it in the blossom so that they wouldn't shrivel off. Hot weather at the wrong time, you can lose a lot of blooms. And they were getting successful up there with peas on what we down here regarded as poor land because it was all in the heavy timber, most of it at least, and years of both pine trees and fir trees extracting nitro gen out of the soil it took a long time for it to grow back in. They could do it with clover crops and.legume crops.

SS: What made peas preferable to beans?

GC: Well, later they seemed to get so they could raise them anywhere, I think possibly they experimented with different kinds of peas. There was a whole series of different varieties of peas, could tell you more about that, she did what they call pea picking down here when she was attending school sometimes. They sorted out the odd peas, so they had nothing but nothing but peas, so she could recognize six or seven different kinds of peas by looking at them. I was never that good, they all looked more or less the same to me. And I think they just did that and found out there were peas that could stand more warmth than others and peas that required cooler weather. It was a question of learning. They changed varieties of beans, too, several times. And they got these red beans, some them in of afterwards, Mexican beans. There were only two kinds of beans planted, I think white beans that were the real crop when I first remember beans, they called 'em the La Uf Washington and the little Navy. The little navy was^a smaller bean, but actually it didn't always yield- sometimes yielded better than the others.

SS: What was the other one called?

The Lady Washington. But they passed out of use, but I think they was pretty good beans. And then they raised brown beans, too. The brown bean, the red bean, I guess you'd call it, they was more brown than red. I don't know why more of it wasn't fielded, at the time we planted a few acres of it we got just as good yield and the price was just as high, so I don't know it never became popular, but they did get in a reddish-brown bean later.

You know, it makes me think about marketing some: Was there any cooperative marketing going on when you were growing up?

Any efforts to have—I remember when the Farmers' Union- you started talking Farmers' Union. I was still a kid but how many people joined it, I don't know I don't think it figured very largely here around Troy. It was somewhat later^. But I know I wasn't more than eleven years old, I don't think when I heard them talking Farmers' Union. I wonder why it was rough to get that kind of thing. I would think the farmers- they could get together to thresh together, I would think they could get together in marketing. Yes, it seems they could. The Grange succeeded later much better and it was called the Grange. But there is a Farmers' Union, too.

They put up some warehouses in this country. I don't know just— Well, a lot of 'em belonged to the associations in Moscow, headed in Moscow now, that owns the warehouses and they were kind of a com pany.

SS: In those days you took it to Troy, right?

GC: Well, Troy was our nearest place.

SS: Who would you take it to?

GC: Troy? Well, they didn't have one in Troy as I remember it, Duthie had a warehouse there for a good long while, but he eventually sold out there and moved to Lewiston, but then that was after I was- I think I was in college about that time. But Green was there a long, long time, not the Greens in the brick house.

SS: No, Green, Brocke's father-in-law.

GC: His father-in-law, yes. He was there a long time'and we dealt with him and Duthie both at different times, sometimes at the same time. And those were the two men. I think somebody else had some in there at one time or another. Jolley, was the name of a warehouse men that preceeded them before Duthie got started and I think before Green did. But he moved on, I don't know why- found a better loca tion.

SS: I've heard, occasionally, farmers complaining about the- you knowjust how good a deal they would get from the warehouses; do you re member that at all?

GC: Well, yes. They generally took it on a basis, however, I think Green and Duthie both did, of the cost of exporting from, here to certain places. Probably most of it, - I don't think much of it went to Spokane, but to Portland. Lewiston milled quite a bit for quite a while, and I don't know if they still mill down there or not, I think they do. (interference) milling, it's better to ship the whole wheat, more economical and less loss than to ship flour. So the milling that was in Moscow and Lewiston was for local use for bread right here. That was more what it was for. Well, I don't know, my father thought that Green and Duthie were much the same. One of the things that were pointed out to me a long time later by hotel people here in Troy; says, "I wondered how these peo ple could carry on all that, there was so little dockage and within a few cents of that." "I found a reason," he said, "it's the sacks." They sacked grain in those days. They didn't have facilities for hauling it in like they do in trucks, they didn't have those kind of bins, or they didn't have those kind of elevators they had buildings in which they had to store it in sacks; pile up the sacks. And, he says, "All those sacks-" Oh, I don't know, they kept rising in price over the years, a little bit, ten cents a sack- he says, - all those sacks hey can sell them for second hands at about two cents less. Most of them are good for another if season after using once, and they can sell all those things back. The seconds a little cheaper than- at a smaller price than the new ones, and get all of it back that way." That's the way I figured-

SS: So, they kept their sacks then?

GC: They kept the sack, yes, they didn't turn the sacks back. They sold When them back the next day. A They paid so much a bushel, so much- it included the sack.

SS: That doesn't sound like they were operating on a big margin then.

GC: Well, it made quite a margin.

SS: The sacks.

GC: The sacks and the dockage. They never would turn out these threshing machines, every thing clear. A little piece of hard dirt the size of a grain of wheat came in with it it might turn it out without breaking it up. It would be like a little hard kernel in there and they'd generally sample a few sacks and gauged a load on that. Or widJL oats would slip through, a certain amount- maybe some weed seed, but that was usually- it got blew out.

SS: Then how did they figure dockage?

GC: Oh, half a percent or one percent or something like that. I think they probably were- oh, I am sure that they gave themselves a liberal margin on it; their dockage rates.

SS: Then they'd actually make profit on the dockage.

GC: I think they made profit on the dockage. Of course, if they were correct on the dockage they couldn't make too much then, because at the other end, they wouldn't pay for wild oats in the wheat here, they would fan that out and have only wheat left, so they couldn't do it so much on the dockage. But this fellow he insisted that the sacks was a tremendous thing. And, of course, that was one dockage, sold they docked a pound on sack they got and then it right back.

SS: Well, let's go back to the farming for a minute. What kind of shape was the average farmer in? Was he getting ahead every year by selling year-by-year selling his crops?

GC: Most of them in our area were and I think the same was true of most of those farmers down on the ridges, if they were they were very careless farmers. I think most of those fellows on little Bear Ridge and American Ridge and Burnt Ridge piled up a little. Now I'm sure they did because certain of the smaller ones decided to quit and go somewhere else. There was often a farmer right nearby who would bid on his land and get it in and increase his acreage a little. They went down- the number went down in here. Now the land that we owned included the Sanders land, which increased the acreage by about, oh, sixty-five percent, cul tivated acreage, and Kellberg bought part of that, too, including those canyon farms which were only pasture and they had to move out and he got quite a bit more, and Goard-

The Goard family?

Well, the last of the Goards that lived here at that time, died this last year, I think they told me. He wasn't farming, he was re tired and renting his land. But they owned land on Burnt Ridge there.

SS: So people were concentrating their farms?

GC: he had a small farm there, eighty acres and he bought land, he had, I think more money than most of those when he came to the country, because he bought land on American Ridge and as he had a chance to buy more over there, he sold off that one to Kellberg, where Ernest Anderson now lives. So that included a considerable number of acres at least what were three or four 160's- well, not 160's but owned by different persons, Goard and Sanders and Cusick, he got in on that. The last you may as well forget about as far as farming land was concerned, it wasn't. (Chuckles)

SS: Well, were most of the farmers, did they own their land free and clear, or were they still tied up with mortgages? I'll tell you, the mortgaging came later in many cases. When it grew more expensive and taxes grew higher and they sometimes had low prices on wheat. Variable prices on wheat and beans- fell after the World War I. And some of them probably bought- were mortgage free to begin with- bought land and then found that they had to maybe get a small mortgage and it was tough on 'em and they had to mortgage more. But, I think most of those at one time owned all their's free. I don't know how Kellberg was situated, I think he had money when he came about 1906 to buy the first place he had. But he took mortgages, I think, to buy the rest that he expanded with. I had heard that the period after World War I, in the '20's was a kind of difficult one for a lot of farmers there.

GC: Yes, it was a difficult time. They had a wave of prosperity in - during the war, as far as prices were concerned. And that's the time that most of the automobiles were bought by farmers. There were only a few farmers that owned automobiles before that time. I think it was that time that the first automobiles were bought on Burnt Ridge. During or just after World War I, about 1919-'20. There were some around town but they didn't hit this country at all 1910 or '09, that is, Troy country, there'd be some in Moscow. I can remember the first car I saw, it was at a Fourth of July celebration,. in Troy. (Chuckles) Oh, I was ten years old, I guess. But I know Sawyer, who was a mail carrier got one because he figured he could use it in the summer season to advantage. And Duthie bought one about 1911 or '12, Leland Duthie.

SS: The mail carrier used it for mail delivery?

GC: For mail delivery, yes. They used to have to keep their own horses, they didn't use a mail wagon provided by the post office.

SS: So, the farmers got to buying cars in World War I and weren't they kind of inclind to expand their acreage too, due to prices?

GC: Yes, they were, they were trying to expand their acreage and some were selling out to them. It was some years, but a lot of them re mained there for quite a while. The Rubergs didn't give up- well, before World War I, there were two farms of eighty acres- originally 160- one 160- they were brothers and one of 'em sold half of his to the other. Both of those fellows had left before, that was two families that vacated. One went down to Yakima where he raised his family and the other, they went to town and they had a difficult time because of a husband and wife disagreement. But that was two farmers that- who had their children in school I remember. But af ter World War I the Pearson family who had- the father died there, and two of the boys- the oldest boy died and then five years later another boy died and they sort of left.. And one of the boys, he went to a dental school and he turned dentist and he spent his life as a dentist. The other boy, he went into the bank. And he was recently retired- (interference) And the girls were married and left and so on, so they sold out eventually. That's the place where Slim Smith bought, Slim Smith's father bought that at that time, he was an expander. He bought several farms- there were two or three farms that lay west from where the old schoolhouse stands on Burnt Ridge, that area, family that was on the Pearson place before he bought it, when I was a little kid, I think they went down to homestead somewhere in the state of Washington. Another family there that had lived where Joe Porter, who owned the- who I said a while back, bought place. the first steam rig into there^ Porter was really not a farmer, he did team work, he had a bunch of good horsespu- f his family on a place to stay, when he was working . out.

SS: So, you're saying that it was kind of rough in the '20's there with the farmers because the prices weren't-

GC: Prices went real down, badly.

SS: And that encourages more farmers to get out?

GC: Oh, yes, it did. Some felt they had better get out before they- prices and higher prices for things they bought.

SS: Other than they they had to go in debt for young men, like yourself who might want to go into farming at that time.

GC: Darn little. They were leery of it. Some who had been prosperous before simply quit. Planted the whole thing down in grass and maybe buy a few cattle themselves to pasture on it or rent pasture on the grass or else cut some hay, as the opportunity Of. Didn't raise any wheat, let it lay during those years. they'd better not spend anything on it beyond the grass seed and they put good sweet clover or clover and alfalfa on it and let it go at that, quit the farming for a while. But not all could afford to do that.

SS: That's what I would think. I want to come back to farming ,a little bit, but there's a couple of things about Burnt Ridge I want to ask you about, a couple of incidents I thought you maybe would know something about. Did you ever hear about the hanging on Burnt Ridge kid

GC: Oh, yes, yes. I heard about that when I was a small

SS: And people still wondered?

GC: Oh, yes, I was a small kid, it was not too many years before thatbefore we moved there, but Lawrence Johnson lived there, Clarence's dad, and he was one of the men that took 'em up. But nobody knew and that's the funniest thing I ever heard, too, seemed to me, if that description I heard of it was right; I would have thought they'd have taken him to Troy and put him aside somewhere and see if somebody could recoitaiAze him, but they didn't seem to- nobody that looked at him knew him, and the people that found him, I think it was a kid that found him, and that hanging- hanged fo as far as they knew.

SS: So they had no idea what had happened or anything?

GC: No, no real clue that they had, of course, I don't know what investigation- I don't know if an officer came down to investigate or not. They just wanted to know, they toldAwhat happened and then nobody seemed to know who he was so they buried him. A rather free and easy way of performing, I

SS: Where did they bury the guy?

GC: Oh, I don't know that either. Maybe they buried him in

SS: That's what I was wondering.

GC: I think Clarence Johnson could tell you that.

SS: Yes, I must ask him.

GC: I think his dad was one of folks went down and carried the man up

GC: Where did they find him?

GC: Oh, in-

SS: Camp's Canyon?

GC: Oh, well, yes, down that way. I don't exactly know where it was either, I think it was between- yes, the Camp Canyon lies between Burnt Ridge and Bear Ridge.

SS: Right.

GC: And I think it was down along that canyon side there, just how far down I don't know.

SS: Was there'any speculation about that?

GC: Oh, yes, there was speculation, everybody speculated, but nobody could think of who might hang this- well,Athey didn't know who he was, what did anybody want to hang him without knowing who he was, so they wouldn't have a clue as to who his enemies might be.

SS: The only thing I could think of, it might be Vigilantes or some thing like that.

GC: Yes, well, as far as anybody knew, there wasn't any such thing. There was nothing like that.

SS: Do you ever hear of the rumor that I read about that there was a what was called a wild man on Burnt Ridge? That there was a wild man living in the canyon or something like that?

GC: Wild man? Well, I wouldn't think- no, I never heard that. The only one that I heard spoken of is when this fellow they called Wild Dave.

SS: Oh, did you know of him?

GC: Yeah. He lived over up toward Moscow Mountain and used to come in to Moscow more than Troy. I gue SS: he appeared there, too.

SS: What was he supposed to have been like?

GC: Oh, he was dressed roughly and had a big shaggy beard and wore a guns and that's about all. He'd come in and get drunk and talk big. As far as I know, he never hurt anybody. (Chuckles) But he looked as if he hadn't been cleaned up in five years, I guess or something like that. People pinned that tag on him. I think the name's Coventry, ADave Coventry.

SS: Right.

GC: fou know a book came out and it was signed William F. Drannon and told of his life in the West, and you look*at the picture in that 'CM. and many swore that picture was of Wild Dave. A neighbor who lived out there one year, renting^Sander's place, his name was Sturtevant, and they had that book.

SS: They had a book, and-

GC: They had a book and the picture looked so much like Wild Dave to some people they swore that he must be the guy that had that book put out. He called himself William Drannon in that picture.

SS: Drannon? Do you think that he was the same person?

GC: I don't know, I never saw Wild Dave myself.

SS: I've heard of that, even down to today, people think they were the same person. I, myself, don't.

GC: The picture in that book?

SS: Yeah, they think that this Wild Dave wrote that book, but I don't see why he would have changed his name for that.

GC: No a He impreSSed everybody as anything but a literary person. That was written- I read the book; his life's adventures and rela tions with Kit Carson and Indian wars and he had one thing on everypicture of a fellow, supposedly- no, I guess maybe drawn by an artist of a fellowA he called the American Cannibal, that he killed and ate his squaw one winter in the mountains.A Hard winter and he couldn't get out. I don't know, it was a little sensational- Most people that read the book thought it was a bunch of lies about himself, whoever wrote the book.

SS: Yeah, I think since then it's been documented that he never did most of that stuff, it was a bunch of lies and a good story, he never did know Kit Carson.

GC: I've never seen another copy of that book. Have you seen it?

SS: I haven't seen that book- (noise interference)

GC: that book, and we all read it .there.

SS: Well, you know, your brothers were all active in the Democratic party; I was wondering when your family-

GC: Into politics?

SS: Yeah, and into being Democrats.

GC: Oh, I tell you, Paul was really the first one, most of us were not active politics at all. My brother, Carl, and Joe and Walter, they Kusually vot the Republican ticket. I always voted the Demo cratic ticket mostly.

SS: I've heard that your father had pretty strong-

GC: Socialistic ideas, yes he did, very strong Socialistic ideas in the old Socialist Party that was in this country and in which men such as Benson and Hilatfit and those were active. There was a good deal of votes pulled by the Socialist Party and different ones back about 1908. They pulled about a half a million votes and there were several times after that they polled up to a million votes or so, but then it kind of died out in the '20's; disappeared. And I think 1920, itself, was the first- the last year it polled a sizeable number of votes.

SS: Was that when Debs-

That was with Debs. And BensonArun after that. Do you think your father got his convictions from—? Oh, reading on various things. He read a great deal on politics and economic theories. He was a reader all his life, I guess I know. He'd collected quite a library of various books largely on religion and history.

Do you think his views on Socialism came from Sweden, or do you think he got them here?

No, I think that was after he came over here. Well, he- there were some- you know the Populist Party wasn't exactly socialistic. It had its good years there in the late 1800's, but it was very much more socialistic than the Democratic Party has ever been.^ And such fellows as Ignatius Donnelly, who ran for- was the candidate one year for theApresidency, but I think died before- during the cam paign they had to change and he'd been Lt. Governor of Minnesota. He was active in labor organizations in the Populist Party. We had a book by him at home, but that wasn't- that was a prediction novel set in the future, something like Edward Bellamy's, Looking Backwards. Only he was not encouraging like Bellamy, who thought that hings were going to be better. He thought that things were going to be worse. He was a

SS: Seems like maybe he was right.

GC: Maybe he had something, too; he was not completely right.

SS: Your father, he was probably one of the few people around here that was- I mean around this area that was- had strong convictions.

GC: Well, he was one of the few. Of the Burnt Ridge people there was nobody else, I don't think. But down around Troy there was a fel low, oh, I forget his name now- Jennett, who was active in that party.

SS: Socialist Party?

GC: Socialist Party. And there were one or two others-, when they estab lished that Socialist newspaper in Lewiston thaif- ran for several years before it folded.

SS: Do you remember the name of that one? Inland Echo. Later, they called it the Inland Empire; changed the name. I don't know whether it passed from one hand to another, be cause they were hard , then it folded up. Was your father- did your father get to know some of the other peo ple that were involved in it? Yes, there was Underwood, was the name of one, and I can't think of any one fellow. The Socialists had a picnic in Troy one time, took over the Fourth of July celebration and organized it, and they had speakers up here, that talked . And they had some speakers- I know I was eleven or so but I heard a little of it but I was not^interested in hearing him talk. I was with a bunch of kids

SS: Was your father ?

GC: No don't think he was. I think, the fact is, I think that was the same year that he went to Sweden, about 1912. He took a trip back there to Sweden to see his people back there about that time.

SS: Where was Underwood from?

GC: Well, Underwood, I don't know where he was from originally.

SS: Was he in Moscow?

GC: Well, he was in Lewiston at this time, but he was from somewhere else. And he was a literary man of some kind. He had published a book of poetry, I think, and things like that. Oh, I never heard a thing about him afterwards.

SS: As far as your father's convictions go being a Socialist; what do you think that that meant? You know, the kind of ways he would like to see society grow.

GC: He thought that- what they might call more pure socialism. The publie control of things publicly used, like racehorses and food crops,Aall those things that had to be used by the public and limit private property to individual needs for himself. A house, because that was something that would be private property, that's for his own use. Land needed to produce food, that's a public utility, that's for public use. That was just about the creed of the socialists of that period. They changed both before and after, I am sure, but that was the kernel of their belief, is the public control of the things used by the public, the and mines and waterpower and land, all that.

SS: Do y°u think he had any vision that people would have more or less the same amount of money to live on?

GC: Well, I don't think; no, he knew that that was very true, that some people needed more wages because there was more demand for them. The technician needed to have- or ought to be employed at a higher salary than no technician at all and that it took more education for his work.

SS: But he was pretty sympathetic towards the workingman? Oh, yes, he was very sympathetic, he thought they got the worst of the deal. That the workingman got the worst part of the deal in our setup. I heard that much andA he was right on that score. They still are getting it, in many ways, the worst of it. you know, what's interesting about it to me in part is that generally the farmers, I don't think have been too sympathetic towards la bor and the unions. Well, no. The farmer had a kind of an independence. He could make it on this land he had, and he found that he was doing it year after year and maybe laying a little aside, and oi more things for the homes and all that sort of thing. They could improve it. They built new barns and new houses and all that. I don't think any of the houses on Burnt Ridge was the ones originally put up. So, your father was kind of different in that way. He was looking, it sort of seems to me, a little more farsighted in- (noise) every body in the same boat. We had a school teacher out there that to talk a great deal of things. He was a pretty good teacher. 'We often wandered from the subject if he was talking on things and he encouraged kids to now read the newspapers and know what was going on* and he'd talk about it to 'em every once in a while and he was the one that if he found was teaching some subject Md oon^hm came up related went on to talk about that, he'd elect a class time for one particular class or anything like that and he held the interest of the students and just keep right on talking about it. (Noisy) It was probably as good a way of teaching as any. I think learned as much in the long run.

SS: He talked about current affairs?

He'd talk about current affairs. And he said about these thingshe said, "Those things don't always happen at once," he says, "now in the Socialist Party has a lot of things in it.fhese other parties are going to take over. A lot of the things that they advocate," he says, "will probably be in use some day, but they won't be called Socialists when they do." Well, that's happened, I know. They were the first party to back women's suffrage, the Socialists were. They were the first ones that advocated the graduated income tax, and quite a few other things that have come to pass at one time or another. We never think of socialism as just things that they advocated in their platform for that particular time. They had, besides their kernel, they took sides on issues up before the country at that time. they didn't The party did, they always did that, A incorporated those things exactly in their idealology, but things that were done.

Did your father ever get a chance to be active at all?

Well, actually, he sympathized a little bit with that Inland Echo that they was going to put out a socialist paper there. And he may have put a few dollars in it, I don't know.

Did he try to talk to his neighbors? Did he try to persuade them?

Oh, if political discussions came up and they opened^up with him, he would, othersttde he didn't. He'd give his side of these things he could talk fluently on that, he was never at a loss for words. If the argument came up he'd just pursue it right on, and he rather heated, too. But, oh, then our neighbors around there, why, they knew his beliefs and he knew their's and they tal ked about something else. Talked about the farm crops or how this other family was or something else.

SS: What about the IWWs? What did he think about them?

Well, I don't remember him saying anything about it, but, well, that came along about-

SS: '17.

GC: '17, and^He didn't have much use for those things. He thought those kind of organizations didn't help anything, as far as I remember. I don't know, the IWWs attempted organizing industrial workers of all kinds together, but some of thel,organization men were gave it a bad name. Probably half of those people that they thought were IWWs weren't. I know some people saw sort of tramps coming through the country looking for work they might be IWWs. It was rather silly, people were too scared of IWWs, if you had to see one under every bush like some of the people saw communists about the time^the First World War was over, there was some investigations here and there. i know that there was - some people were saying that the fires in the fields, in the harvest fields were being set by IWWs. Oh, there was some fires sometimes, now, I don't know whether they were set or not, I don't think they ever came to the truth of it. Now, smut in the wheat, that's kind of a disease, they sometimes get that in the wheat and that stuff could explode, if you were run ning the machine hard. And smokers of all kinds were around these worked. threshing machines, too, and they used to follow- had a perman ent crew and they'd just bed down in the haystack- in the straw stack at the end of the day with their blankets and it was just as likely a lot of those things were made from careless sources as anybody else.

Did you go through the eighth grade on Burnt Ridge?

GC: Yes.

SS: Then what did you do after that?

GC: Well, I was out one year^ I finished high school in Troy.

SS: Then you went to high school in Troy?

GC: Then I went to the university up here, later to California. I laid out a year in between there. One year I wasn't in school. That's all I missed until I went through college. Of

SS: Did you go in the service at all?

GC: Yes, I was in for one that didn'^interrupt my college education. They put what they called Students' Army Training Corp on the cam pus^ during the First World War. That wasn't the ROTqfthat they had in these, but regularly enlisted students, and they started calling them up as they came to them. I know they were calling the older ones first, and they'd gotten down to about- I was about nineteen years old then- they were delving into the 20s and they were coming down so if the war hadn't closed in November of that year, why, I'd probably been called out. As it was they didn't know what to do with them for about a week or two then orders came that they were to disband them all by Christmas. Release them. So, that wasn't much. I was in for a time in this last war, too, but I don't know, I was a little too old then, and they decided after a physical exam ination to release me. 1941 and 1942 and *43- I should say.

SS: What was the University like when you went there?

GC: Much smaller college. I think it was- I think, the number of students in regular courses could not have exceeded 800. Washington State, which probably twice that much. Oh, with the correspondence courses and short courses that they used to give injagriculture- I don't know if they still give them or not- the extension courses and those things, they totalled a couple of hundred more. So at one time of the year, in the winter, what they claled the short courses- they called them the short ags- short agricultural coursesthat was the term for them- at least they're all short. There were a whole bunch of those in there, made for about a three month's course, special course.

SS: But you were taking—

GC: I took the regular AB course. And I taught school for about four teen years after that then I left it and went to Washington and worked for the Bureau- the Division, as they called it thfc^ office, later, of Vital Statistics. It was part of the Census Bureau when I ended there, but reorganization took place in the government there and they transferred it to the Public Health Service.

SS: This was DC.

GC: This was Washington, DC, yes.

SS: You taught school?

GC: Before that.

SS: Did you teach around here?

Oh, I taught in California more than anywhere else. I did teach one year here in Idaho. I taught out in the Philippines for a while. I was two years down at Klamath Falls, Oregon. I went back to school at the University of California for a year after that, then I was out in the Philippines quite a while. Then traveled a bit before I came back.

Let me ask you a little bit about what it was like being a student in the university in those days. Was there much social life? Plenty of social life, yes. Plenty of social life, but a lot more sedate sort than they have now. Well, maybe some of the fraterni ties had a little drinking there in private, but it was usually very private. They didn't let it get out, just sort of kept quiet. Nobody talked about it if they went there. And otherwise, it was pretty quiet. Sometimes they had fights with other students from Washington State when they had the game, and that was sort of a silly thing, but they did,

SS: Oh, the big rivalry was with Washington State? Was it a big rivalry in those days?

GC: Well, it was quite a rivalry, yes, and sometimes with clashes between the rooters. Not very common though. The presidents of the univer sity at that time, that one over there and Washington State and Idaho, oh, they clamped down on 'em both, they understood each other. And they even got kind of tough with students who tried starting any of that stuff.

SS: Do you remember President Lindley?

GC: Lindley? Yes. He was president that year I graduated, but he left I think about that time, too. Lindley was- he was one of those that just believed there should be no rough rioting and fighting and any thing that had no business around the university, or vandalism or anything like that.

SS: Did you think a lot of him? Do you remember?

GC: Oh, I think they all respected him. His son graduated the same year I did. He became a newspaper man. Lindley. He wrote-

SS: Dating?

GC: oh that was allowed, of course. I'll tell you though, they had the dormitory there, just one dormitory for girls'and about four or five fraternities- sororities, you know. Those girls were under pretty strict surviellance by the house mothers and the Dean of Women, who lived at Ridenbaugh Hal1-^ was the only girls1-

SS: Was that Dean French at that time?

GC: Dean French. What was her name? Perineal- Permeal Jane French.

SS: She had a reputation for strictness didn't she?

GC: Oh, yes, she really- the girls didn't like to be called up before her. Yes, I guess she was- Of course, there were always girls that lived out through the town in places, too, lived in the halls and that, but she was Dean of all the women and they didn't have a Dean of Men. That's one thing that most colleges even then had, but there was no Dean of Men. You answerA to anybody except- for missing cla SSes or anything else. Of course, they might ruin their standing with the professors if they were too lax in attending classes but then it was up to them. Strictly double standard.

SS: Well, talking about the double standard; like what, the relations be tween the sexes and that kind of thing?

GC: Well, that was hard to say.

SS: I was thinking-

GC: Among university students I know one thing about it - you'll probably never know. Careful people there, because that sort of thing they were all against and the university wouldn't be tolerant to any person who's reputation was, as they say, tarnished. But whatever hap- pened was kept between themselves. I know the ROTC had an encamp ment one year while I was there and they had it up at Fort George Wright and they mostly had liberty at night and a lot of the boys went really wild up there at that time. They had a chance to get out of Moscow and on their own for a while away from the university campus. No repercussions whatever, no report^ they were out on their own. No inquiries were made or anything like that. That's the way our commandant felt about those things, I'm sure. the bawdy houses in Spokane.

SS: But that was probably mostly like the bawdy houses in Spokane. )That's what they went to.

GC: Oh, yes That's what they found or the ones that were on their own. Free lances up there. They were kind of freelancing in town, to the whorehouses too much. They were big enough to support that kind of thing, being a city. Yes. There wasn't really such a thing as a bawdy house in Moscow. They were there alright in places, they were rooming somewhere. ARooming in the hotel , and when they appeared on the streets they were like anybody else but they could do their soliciting very expertly^ even the hotels unaware of it or maybe they winked at it as long as they behaved themselves, maybe they didn't even know. I've often wondered about the women that got involved in that sort of thing, what their backgrounds were, you know, where they came from. If they would have tended to have grown up in poverty.

GC: Well, I don't know.

SS: Just drift into it?

Drifted into it, I think, probably. I know, some of them started VI think^not as whores to begin with, as rather impulsive young girls is another, and then drifted into it from th«r . I kind of have the idea that in those days from some things that I've read about stuff in just that period of time, that some of the old Victorian standards were kind of starting to slip and colleges- I know in the '20's colleges got a little wild with the flappers and all that. Yes, I'll tell you- a fellow here- well, I went to school with him once in college and he went right on and got PhD degrees in physics and became a physics teacher. He taught at the University of Idaho; came back there and taught first and^he drifted on to Wisconsin uring the World War he was summoned to Washington for their group of scientists to work on things- on weapons. He told me when he was a professor here at Idaho that things were changed completely after that war since the boys were coming back, he says,some of them one and two and three and four years from the time they'd first started college*. Some that never got to college in the first place starting at age twenty or twenty-one or twenty-two and that time was the lowest ebb here in control of the kind of life that the stu dents had. A lot of those boys- nothing wrong with them- but his idea was- he safdi that they're too young for the experiences they had in the war. He said that this idea of sending the young men to war is tough on the young men it has a deteriorating effect on 'em. They're too young to stand it, he says, and that was about the time of the Second World War he's talking about. And he didn't like the idea of sending eighteen, nineteen year olds into war; says that it's going to be rough on them. It's going to have a bad influence they re too young to carry that. And he sort of blamed that* althou^n they never got around to drafting those under twenty-one. They re gistered them all and a lot of them enlisted that were eighteen and nineteen in that war^and twenty. Went in by enlistment in the wave of patriotism, I suppose you'd call it.

SS: You're talking about the First World War?

GC: First World War and when he came back, that was the early '20's when they started coming back.

SS: Of course, they were probably quite a bit older than the girls, too.

GC: They we^e older than the girls at that time. The girls- of course, there were less girls during that war years than there were, too, a lot of those dropped out and took positions in war work and earned considerable money; they went up. But there's one thing about it most of them didn't have much money up here. A large part of 'em were one and two and three years retarded on age, you might say, but it was because they stayed out and worked.

SS: You talking about women?

Women and men both up here. Women were great to try to get a year or two in in college, in which they can draw a temporary teaching certificate that was only renewable - it wasn't renewable after so many year unless they took more college work, and they'd make their way that way,a lot of them would. If they got in a year they could make a temporary certificate in a year and one a little bit longer, I think for five years, if they took two years. So they went out and they got teaching positions and a lot of those were overage girls that were coming back; experienced teachers coming back to finish up. They didn't have very many choices in the terms of the kind of cour ses of study for a career at that time. No, they didn't. There was secretarial work, business and that was handled largely by business schools, although they had accounting up there at the university and some were taking that and teaching and well, nursing, they always went to the hospitals from high school. Oh, there were some that took specializing in home economics and diet ician and that. My nephew, Keith, Bruce's brother, his wife was a hospital dietician before- when she came out of college, worked at that for a time.

Do you think that men- and this is a question because things have changed a lot- are changing. Do you think that in those days that the men tended to look on the women- you know, the boys on the girls at the college as being them, or being less than equal?

GC: Well, I don't think that was so true. Maybe they thought some things were for girls and some for men, but most of 'em recognized the girls I think as being intellectually equal, among college men. Oh, pro bably that might have been true about the ordinary man, say of forty jfosf had tetti raised fifty- the generation before they were, did have that idea, but a lot of those were pretty liberal on that point, too. Some people ing were not so keen on educat girls, they thought they were going to marry and said that was lost time. It was lost if it was not econ omically beneficial.

Do you think most men would have expected maybe the women too, would have expected that when they got married that she would give up her work and become a homemaker?

Oh, yes, that was common. That was common, but a lot of them some times found they were glad that their wife had an occupation in the if that she could work at he wasn't prepared for and because he was losing his job;Awhere he worked was closing down, something like that, a plant closing dovm. No, there were married women tea ching thenQw^th husbands. I know the wife of one of the professors up there Aa job in Moscow High School, professor at the university. All children were grown, they just had a couple. I tal ked with her once, she said- when I was taking a teaching certifi cate we did our observations in Moscow High School in the different things and I talked with her, I told her why I was there, I talked with her a good deal, I knew her husband.

SS: She the wife of the president?

GC: Not the president, he was a history professor. And, oh, she told me that just to sit at home bored her, and she could get plenty of social life in the evening without putting in full time to it. So she took the job teaching. In my remembrance of . it was one of the easiest ways of teaching she had that I had seen. She seemed to hold that class in the hollow of her hand, all interested.

SS: What made you decide to become a teacher?

GC: Oh, I don't know, I was a little lost as to what I wanted to do. I seemed wanted to go out and get a job immediately and law or medicine a long ways away. Well, I never seriously thought of medicine. I never liked that kind of thing. But I did consider law, but then sometimes it was a long time for the young lawyer to get started even then. The demand for lawyers wasn't so much, there weren't so many suits. That's something that has multiplied extremely sincealways suing for this and that and civil suits, fill

SS: Was it that way in the early days, too?

GC: There wasn't near as much of that when I was a kid, you'd hear about suing for this or that, but then there wasn't much compared to what it is now. I think recourse to the law on civil damages of any kind has increased tremendously from that time. They didn't do if somebody happened to fall down and hurt themselves on some body else's property- I don't think anybody thought of that. You probably thought they were too darn clumsy and it was their fault. It wasn't too difficult to put yourself in a position to be a tea cher then?

No, you know teachers are fairly well in demand and they were not so awfully highpaid and a lot of teachers found they could enter something else. A chemistry teacher would enter a chemical company, something like that, so there was a constant change and they opened up places for other people. And sort of things like that happened all the time. And there was an increasing population, both by immigration and excessive births which ran pretty high then, increasing much better than one percent yearly, natural growth, one and a half percent, no doubt. And a steady stream of immigration reaching a million ayear sometimes, net increase of amillion ayear from Europe. It's no wonder the schools kept increasing, the college enrollments, the high school enrollments and the others. It was a period of growth for secondary schools about that time, they went to a fair minority of the population. You know, at the time I star ted high school in 1912, '13, they didn't have all the/rteighth grade graduates coming in, didn't have half of them. A lot of people thought that was for the bright ones.

SS: Were there fewer country kids proportionately than town kids?

GC: Yes, fewer proportion. Town kids were into town and decided they just as well try.

SS: Do you think that was the reason was easier acce

GC: Easier access and also, they wouldn't have regular employment at the age of entering high school that the country kids would have weren't on the farms. Some of the parents anxious for 'em to go, they thought their kids were average and ' high school was for intellectuals.

SS: How much time-

GC: Actually we learned different when I went to high school. I was

SS: How much relation did the country people like the Burnt Ridgers have to the town? Did they have a lot to do with town?

GC: Well, quite a bit. Well, now the thing is, a large part of 'em went to church there and they met the town population that belonged to the samachurch; the churches there. And they went in and they got acquainted with all the people they dealt with, and often they made friends with some of 'em around there. And a certain number of peo ple from the town after they went out and got jobs during the harvest and so-on, when they needed extra hands, went out and worked in the country. So there was no strict division there between the town people. For a town as small as Troy it didn't matter too much.

SS: As compared to a place like Moscow.

GC: Moscow, would probably be a group probably that were largely cliques that were entirely town but I don't think that would hold true of the country they mingled. In Moscow I get the ideat that there were a lot of people in town that really felt they were better than country people; called them hayseeds or ?

Oh, yes, they used those terms. I probably felt that, but that was a way of calling each other- of razzing each other. And some of the talk was not too goodnatured, either, they used that kind of term. I remember the term hayseed for a farmer and oh, these other terms, too. The loggers and the farmers kind of took jibes at each other. (Chuckles)

Would you figure that there'd be a little of that, say between people in Troy and the people on the ridges as compared to a place like Moscow?

Oh, I don't think it would be all that different, if there was. It would remain that probably there was a larger group of fairly wealthy people in Moscow that tended to cling together social ly, that's about all. The rest had to deal with farmers a lot on business and theyi trade with farmers. Which would keep that sort of thing down. Yes, yes. A large part of their trade- Moscow has always had a lot of farmers around it, there's quite a little area there and they did a lot of the buying. That's what I was thinking of, you know, like in Troy, the kids even would identify better with country kids.

GC: Oh, yes, they would. There was no distinction, really, the kids knew each other. We had some kids come out there- there were some kids that seemed to- I don't know maybe some of them had relatives in town, there'd be that, too.

SS: Did you feel like a country kid when you went into the university?

GC: Well, I don't know, I didn't feel particularly one way or the other I wanted to go very badly, I went up there and I guess maybe some body kind of regarded me as pretty much of a country kid. Maybe I was blissfully unaware of those.

SS: There must have been a lot of country kids going to the university from around the state.

GC: Oh, yes, were from off the farm, there were probably more kids came off the farms than the towns.

SS: Did you get involved in a fraternity, or did you stay in a—?

GC: No, I never entered a fraternity. I stayed at a house with a group of boys once, they just organized among themselves for economy sake and rented a big house that was for rent that would hold about twenty- five people and hired a cook and, all took care of our own rooms and cleaned and that was it.

SS: What was your thinking about the fraternities? Did you feel that you were better not to be in one, or did you just not want to?

GC: I'll tell you, the economic cost, I lived on a fairly slim pittance, I realized was a bit higher in the fraternities than where I was staying outside, and that was the deciding issue on that for me. Besides- I really didn't care all that much about the- oh, any social of it advantages,and I think they were overrated, too. By the time I got through I it was over- and by the time I reached my junior year I thought fraternity life was overrated as to what it gave the And there was a lot of the young men outside that that were just as influential at politics as those in there. We almost elected a member of our group down there, one year, failed by a small margin, a non-Greek letterman. Mostly Greek lettermen that ran thethere were just-joo many of 'em. There were quite a few fraternities for the population of it at that time. Oh, I don't know the ratio what it is now or then either, so I guess I couldn't say, but I suppose if there were 400 men in regular attendance there, that half of them were fraternity.

SS: Do you think that those kids that were not in a fraternity would identify with each other better than—

GC: Maybe a little better, yes. Maybe a little better with each other than - there was a lot of difference there. Some of my^friends were fraternity men that were my acquaintances there. I knew the fellows at the house that were nonfraternity men better, but I got acand saw about and quainted with some that I have had classes withA drilled with on the drillgrounds and all that. Oh, there wasn't any ill feelings that is, I think the same thing was true with a lot of the frater nity men, a lot of 'em were- had their good friends in the non-Greek fraternity men.

SS: Do you think, that when you say the economics; was there a significant cost difference to live in a fraternity?

GC: Yes, there was quite a bit. It was significant in terms of what re sources they had then. Five dollars more then meant in living costs a whole lot more than it does now, a dollar was worth something then you got a full scale meal in a hotel restaurant for -five cents. So you see, in terms of actual dollars it probably wasn't so large but in terms of what the dollar could buy it's quite a bit.

SS: This would be about five dollars a month difference, or would you say more?

GC: Oh, probably more than that, I'd say the cost was ten dollars more a month, maybe more than that. I know a lot of 'em spent a good deal more than that. The dues and the social life they're expected to attend and all that. Oh, I would say- well, one of the fellows there, I roomed with him for a while, a fraternity sort of solicited him and he decided to join after a while, and I don't know, he told me what it had cost; ten to fifteen dollars more per month for him to live there after he'd paid his initiation fees and for the entrance and that sort of thing. I think that's the term he used. Anyway, it sounded large- pretty high to the fellows down there. Oh, another fellow I knew there, well, two or three of them had stayed out one and two years working before they started school and they thought they were fixed to go on through college and they weren't about to use it all up in one year by joining a fraternity or bring it down, they were budgeting their costs to go through. Lots of them got help from their parents of course, but not so many of them were entirely dependent on their parents. They worked summers and some of them worked at jobs right there, if they could get hold of a part-time job 5.

SS: dependent on their parents.

GC: Oh, they're financially less dependent-

SS: Those that were in the fraternities.

GC: oh» yes. I'd say that's definitely true. Those that were outside were less dependent. Sometimes I wondered about that, but I don't know, in some cases, individuals, 1^ wondered about at the time that I- but I had no way of knowing what their situation was.

SS: I imagine that-

GC: One or two - oh, there were one or two of the types, oh, they wasn't invited into a fraternity. There were some that were kind of oddball. I remember one who was quite brilliant in some things, but he - oh, he was sloppy in dress and all that and didn't seem to fit well in to any social group. He antagonized people. They thought he was odd. He studied accounting, I think eventually. And he was sort of a speed demon on reading fast - you've seen those things advertised those speedreading ? Well, I think he was a speed reader before that thing was invented. And, also a speedster in mathematics for quickness They tested him against an adding machine with an ex perienced person at the controls an adding machine, and he could beat it on figures. Adding a column of figures faster than she could put them in and he'd come up with the right answer before she would. (Chuckles)

GC: Well, no, he was odd in many ways. He tried teaching school after ward, He wasn't much of a success at that, he couldn't hold a job. He monkeyed around with various things. He was promoting land deals and mining deals and things like that, he never settled, I don't think at a regular job all his life. I saw him a few times after he was in college and he was odd. I didn't dislike him at all, I talked to him a good deal and the fact is, he came-CtfoM.Latah County here on one of these backwoods farms beyond Deary x think^he has relatives still living in, I don't know. Vvrkind's?

SS: I've heard of him, because I heard that he was a wizard at figures.

GC: Yes, Shorty land, we called him. Oscar, Oscar I think was his

SS: Did the young people from the- this area kind of keep track of each other at college? fou generally u ovld.

GC: Oh, yes, if you saw somebody from here, why,- but sometimes or A other there was a lot of piling what course they take. Law students were law students, engineers with engineers and so on regardless whether they wereAfraternity or non-fraternity that's the way a lot of them found their friends there.

SS: Was there something you were specializing in?

GC: I took my major in history and minors in English and mathematics.

SS: Why history?

GC: Oh, I liked it. I don't know whether it was good or not, after I got into high school teaching, I was teaching mostly mathematics. In fact, I think I liked it better than teaching history. It was such a more definite. You could tell how a student was doing a whole lot easier and where he was having trouble in teaching mathematics thanAhistory or something like that.

SS: Did you feel when you were studying history that there was much in between the pioneering that went on out here, you know, the whole idea of

GC: Well, no, we never considered ourselves pioneers when I was a kid. We considered the pioneers that had arrived about thirty-forty years before. We considered we'd passed that stage. (Chuckles)

Thought we was right up-to-date. Looking back on it and knowing how we lived without any electricity, without automobiles and all that, they probably thought we were, but people didn't have those in the cities, either, or anywhere else, and they were just some thing that came along. No, it wasn't until just about World War I was on or a little before that automobiles began to become com moner and commoner, about 1910 and '11 and then the tempo increased. One of the things was the poor quality of the engines that they had at that time, you'd see people stalled along the road, something'd gone wrong with them,Ahad to have it hauled off or send for a me chanic. Hire a farmer with a team of horses to haul it into town. When cars became dependable enough so you could go someplace and come back again with a fair chance of not having to have a break down, then they began selling them. That was one of the qualities of that and they made tires so poor that they'd blow up easily if they got a little hot; tires and all that. And, of course, the roads had a lot to do with the bad tires, they had very little pavement^ and they tossed gravel on so many roads, rough gravel, that was the way of putting the solid base in and hold down the mud and made it rough, a lot of 'em were stony, the roads. And the grades hadn't been laid out, there was an awful lot of this straight up hill and straight down hill stuff. So, it was rough on the cars to stand it. Any kind of a car would be rough with them kind of roads they had and the poorer cars, why, people thought those things they'd better keep to^cities where you could travel on a smooth road.

SS: How difficult did travel get in the winter?

Well, where we lived, we were six miles out of town, about. We al ways made it alright. Sometimes we would get too much snowfall to go on in, we d break out the roads with horses. Sometimes after we had the cars- used the cars- why, the car was sometimes harder to get through than the horses. Shucks, I was up here once, I'd been teaching in California, I came up here on Christmas and there was so darn much snow that it piled up about six feet and peo ple were coming in - the further places tha^f* had to abandon their car travel and they were putting horses through and that was around 1935. There were still lots of horses, horses being used at that time, but they were on their way out. There was more and more mech anized farms and fewer and fewer horses each year until they disaappeared. You know, we were talking about social life at the university; I was wondering- what were the kind of things you did for social life? It was mostly campus dances. Oh, yes, and they were generally held in the gymnasium^there and they had them regularly. Otherwise students would often organize picnics for the bunches, some up to Moscow Mountain, a few of 'em. We were horse-drawn, that way, we hayracks, so a whole bunch of us could get on and on up. And then, I don't know, there was always the group of churchgoers that socialized in the churches^ town and college.

SS: Did you generally live in an apartment?

GC: I lived in a roominghouse most of the time there. Generally- rooms meals in the same house where there was a bunch of boys all going to the University. I think there were one or tx*o sometimes that weren't. I know one high school boy was living away from home stayed there one year.

SS: Your father wasn't very strong on the churches was he?

GC: No, he wasn't. Now, he believed firmly in the Lutherans interpre tations. He felt that the churches were too commercialized, they were departing too far from what was recommended. He was pretty much of a fundamentalist, you might say. He thought that they made churches too much of a question of building and money and all that, it occupied their time, too much, he was not too strong for churches. Though he supported that church in Nora pretty regularly; the old Nora Church up on -, it was what they calledwell, the term was Mission Friends, translated - the Swedish Free Church,- nonluth- it was Lutheran in doctrine, practically all, but had departed from it. And that church lasted up there for quite a while, up there at Nora. And they put out an awful lot of mission aries in the field. Oh, most of the ministers that I remember up there had served in Alaska among the Eskimos, at one time or another. Had served there or went up there

SS: What do you think would be the difference behind the departure from doctrine that your father would see?

GC: Well, he didn't like the formalism of church. He was better satisfied with a church where a. congregation iust got together and listened to a fairly learned man talk on the Bible in relation to ordinary living. He didn't- Now I always thought that he be longed in the Disciples of Christ- that church, commonly known as the Christian Church, he was more like that I think in his outlook than any othere.

SS: Would that be more of a revival kind of church?

No, it's a creedless church, they don't care what you believe, be lieve what you like. All they are concerned with is how a person lives his life and what he can do to live it like they say a Christian should. So, your father was moce interested in the idea of religion as an ethical force in a person's life?

GC: Yes, absolutely. It seems more to me like a freethinker, I mean, an independent thin ker. Well, he was. He had ideas on most subjects that he come in contact with and more often disagreed than he agreed (Chuckles)

SS: Do you think that that encouraged- that his philosophy encouraged his children to think for themselves?

GC: Oh, I think so. Oh, I suppose it did, I never thought particularly about it, but undoubtedly it did. He said people ought to read and read and think for themselves. He was a great reader all his life. He spent lots of time- he subscribed to various newspapers, sometimes several of them, just to read what they had to say in editorials and all that. And^he read various books from time to time. Some of those books I just wondered why he got 'em, but he said when he was learning English when he came over here he could speak it in a little while, he got books and read them and learned how to usehow the language was used that way. And he wasn't particular what kind of book he got hold of. He got hold of some that he knew were good and what the subject matter was. It was largely history and religion and a few famous cla SS:ics. I know one of the books I read early because it was in our library was,A Quo Vadis. And I read it before I could fully understand it. And. and such things like that. And then there was a book of English poets as I can remember; a great, big book of English poets. He bought those things in different times.

SS: Would he involve your mother in those discu

GC: Well, not much. She wasn't too much interested in that, she was much more interested in the home and the well-being of her child ren and things like that; what to do next.

SS: Do you feel that he was le SS: practical than some guys because of

GC: Probably he was, I don't think he was- he the best of farmers, don't think. I think my brother, Walter, learned to farm faster than he did under the conditions on which we farmed here. He'd been raised on a farm in Sweden but evidently they were really small farms and a large part of the time was spent in- a comparatively short period of time was spent farming and a large part of the time as woodsmen in the forests nearby there. And I saw farms in Sweden that he might have, small farms, which are- when I first went back there. of course, they had a whole lot better machinery than he ever saw, machinery was invented after he came here, but it wouldn't have been the same thing. They farm a ten acre plot or a fifteen acre plot and raise some wheat and some rye on it and haul it to the mill ' it ground into meal and bring the flour home, they used to do that and that's a lot different than raising to sell to support economics. They got their ready money from the working in the woods there, these woodsmen. Different kind of a life entirely.

SS: One thing about that that reminds me of- is that the feudal system was still pretty strong there when your father left- I mean, there were some big land owners.

CC: Well, there were some big land owners, but I think comparatively speaking, there weren't so many, that is, it seemed to me that what they called a big land owner would never have been called a big land owner, it is all a matter of comparison.

I'm talking about these early days when your father left. Yes, I mean that. They spoke of a person had a big tract of land, oh, heck, he probably didn't have 100 acres in cultivation on it, and the rest were so much smaller that it was comparative, that was all comparative. Of course, there were large tracts undoubtedly held by- held some places in Sweden from ancient times and that had managed to hang onto their land.

SS: Did that mean that you kids go?

GC: We didn't go regular to church, no. I think the church goers regarded us pretty much as heathens.(Chuckles) I think. But that never bothered us

SS: Would you go like on the—

GC: I remember when the Kellberg family came from Missouri. They were Swedish, but they had lived in a non-Swedish community and probably were Lutheran. Mrs. Anderson, Anderson, was one of that, she was about two years old then, just a baby, but after they got here I think Mrs. Kellberg- when she realized there was a Luteran Church in Troy, she immediately wanted to go and so they joined that church and went there. But I believe one of the boys told me they never had any church in that community in Missouri that they attended before that. Of course, the oldest boy was only about ten when they came. That's the way they were/just influenced by the fact that they landed in a Swedish community and the old folks were Swedish and they -just reverted back. They'd gotten along very well without a church appa rently for the itAerval without missing

SS: Would you be inclined to go on Christmas or occasions?

GC: oh» Yes» yes, yes. Yes, we would. In fact, we went, we always went up to that- an old Swedish custom of oh, a morning service on Christmas, starting about six o'clock, and we used to go. Christ mas was one that Dad insisted on going to, because I think it was reminiscent the old days of Sweden, he sort of felt that that was something that should belong. I don't know. And on Easter, the same thing. I wonder if this Lutheran Church practices early mor- ning service any more. I don t know whether it does or not.

SS: Well, the one other thing I wanted to ask you about was, how close do you feel the community was on Burnt Ridge in the early days?

GC: Oh, I don't know, really. I think they felt friendly toward each other, most of the people. They were neighbors I don t know as there was any great closeness except special families felt close to each other and others didn't. Oh, Kellberg and his brother-inlaw, lived on the adjoining place just north of us, those kids con torted together a great deal. Now, the Ruberg family were cousins with about three families on the Ridge, related, you know. Then you got to the northern part of the Ridge, you got to Lawrence John son's, oh, he was the mother(?) to the Deleen children. There's still Deleens around here. Lawrence was Clarence's father, he was the brother of Mrs. Deleen and cousin to the grandfather of the Larsen children that went in here. And I guess they were cousins or se cond cousins to the Andersons that lived up there. They were quite a group there of peoples that were related. One came, he told about it- the advantage and got them to move in and he'd find a piece of land for them. Now f^deen who lived up there, was a rather distant relative of my father, but he'd grown up with him in Sweden practically, they'd gone to the same schools and were the same age and they kept track of each other in this country and Dad was more or less interested- responsible for him being here. And he bought that place out there and he saw that land, what they were doing with it, he wrote what he'd done and told him that the land, what looked like good land to him seemed to be going awfully cheap out here and Rudeen got immediately interested and when the chance to buy came up here he sent a check of money to him and put down his option to hold it. 'he got out here and he bought it. They were our closest friends, the Rudeens, simply because Dad and Rudeen were old friends rather than what they were- they were second cou sins or third cousins, something like that.

SS: Sounds like kinship played an important part in it?

GC: Kinship played an important part there. Now, the Swansons came la ter. They came- Frank Swansffn came just about- with his family, the same time- he's Alvin's Swansen's father, and I think two of his children were born after they came to Burnt Ridge. But then two of his brothers came down there, they were unmarried young men and one of 'em married a Beleen girl and the other married and Andersen girl. They married in one generation of people already settled there. Ed continued to live out there, he's got- his descendents are Austin Swenstn and Richie and Eddie are his grandsons. George, he lives somewhere else. He went up around Spokane or Coeur d'Alene and settled up there.

SS: Sounds like kinship was the most important part of this?

GC: Well, it probably was. And I think the kinship of reached to gether on a lot of that.

SS: People got related that were living next to each other.

GC: Yes, they did. A lot of these people are related out here in dif ferent degrees of cousinship from those early marriages. I imagine quite a few o# those people on Burnt Ridge, are about second cousins, third cousins and fourth cousins relationships living right here in Latah County. And I know it had some effect because Kellberg came mostly because the Alders had settled , and Mrs. Alder was Kellberg's sister and she was very close to her family. She was glad to have Kellberg come out. And later, she had two brothers-r Mrs. Kellberg had two brothers; one of them came out here as a young man, I probably at invitation and married somebody here and settled and thenAinduced another one to come from Oklahoma, and he came. Both the Kellbergs and the Alders had in Oklahoma before that. I don't know, Alder was what they called an '89er, he was in the rush down tnere.

SS: I heard a nubmer of people were in Ashtabula at some point.

GC: Ashtabula, Ohio, yes. A lot of them went in there^nd established themselves. Some came out here and some came later, but I think now - Clarence Johnson's father or maybe it was his mother, that they were established there for a while, then came on out. Lawrence John son arrived before he was married.

SS: These kinship ties, I take it, meant kind of that you were often times, like your father and Mr. Rudeen, that they were together in the old country and backhand they were kin-back there?

GC: Uh-huh. They did. There was a kind of tie there in kinship. I didn't think about it, but I learned that the same thing was true over on American Ridge. Those Chaney families moved in and I think some of their wives are related to some of the other people there. I know the Harlan family and -

SS: The Driscols and Dunns and Cunninghams?

GC: They were related- the Dunns and Cunninghams were sisters.- the Driscoll men. There was the old patriarch his sons were older than my father, but he came out here, too,with them. He was an old man, he died long before my time.

SS: Do you think there was kind of a natural tendency to put more trust or rely more on people you were related to than to people that you just were friends with?

GC: Oh, I think so. I think possibly there was. I think they clung to their own quite a bit and trusted 'em much more. I think that's true. A lot of those people first that came on Burnt Ridge, - well the related ones were all from one province there, a single province there, where all these Andersens and Deleens came from.

SS: Which province?

GC: The province was called Vasternorrland , But a lot of those others were, I know Westbergs were from there and I guess both- and I guess the Kellbergs from there and the Swans, but Alder, he himself washe was from some other section . It -just seems that an awful lot of the people that landed there was from that province.

SS: Well, you think that the people who were not Swedish who lived on Burnt Ridge when you were growing up- there were some of those-

GC: Oh, yes.

SS: Do you think that they just weren't as much of a part of the community?

GC: I think possibly they were- they did feel that way. I don't think they deliberately made them feel that way, but of course they didn't belong to that church. I know the Sanders family, wEre friendly to us in spite of the fact that Old Man Sanders had certain peculia rities- his main peculiaries came from jaga which he would go on in town.

SS: Drinking.

GC: Drinking. Every so often he had a hard drinking bout.

SS: And that made some of the more sober people not-

GC: Yes. Of course, they were not all teetotlers, by any means. Most of 'em, a large part of 'em were accustomed to a little drinking. Though some weren't. As far as I know, I could probably name the ones but that wouldn't mean anything in particular. But I know some of those- we had different ones there, but so many of those didn't stay long enough to get acquainted, Sanders family, they friends with the people on Burnt Ridge, but now, of course, Joe Porter he settled down, he was the man I said owned the threshing machine, but he was a fellow that liked to act tough, carried his revolver by his side and was always apparently trying to bully some body and things happened to him once in a while- he would get pushed and that sort of set people apart from him because he wasn't acting particularly friendly and liked to be friends. But his kids were nice kids, by golly; two girls and a boy. They got along al right with the kids in school, they wasn't too bad, but, I don't know they may have felt a little like outsiders because they weren't part of the community like the others were. I don't think very many people invited Porter into their homes, he and his wife. Well, of course, there was a little thing- his wife was part Indian, about half or quarter, but those children didn't show much Indian and I think they all married white. They probably disappeared into the white race.

SS: Was that Burnt Ridge schoolhouse used for community get-to-gathers?

GC: Yes. It was really a community get-to-gather, and if there was some speaker in the church, missionary or such, he went bv there to speak to 'em. If they wanted a politician, if it was election time why, he'd in there in the evenings. Farm Union organizer I heard speak there once, he was in there. And they went there. And they used to have, oh, parties at-nights. About Friday nights in the wintertime they practically always had some kind of a party there, social, box social or just get together with a little program or singing.

SS: Did they play party games there?

GC: Yes. Well, I'll tell you in the schoolroom they couldn't really play that, they didn't have room enough, they filled the seats. They played those outdoors in the summer- the they played those a lot.

SS: I was thinking when the adults got together.

GC: Oh, yes, I mean the adults there, to play it inside that schoolhouse, there wasn't space enough because it wasn't that big a schoolhouse, probably all filled with seats, mostly. But I remember those parties- party games used to be played a lot some indoors and some outdoors in houses around the town. I remember years ago when I was a small kid, they held one of those at: our house. I thought there was a terrific lot of people there there weren't more than fifteen altogether there. (Chuckles) That was before I was of school age.

SS: Did they have dancing on Burnt Ridge? Or was that frowned on?

GC: Well, I'll tell you, a lot of those church members frowned on their children dancing, but neverthe less, they into town, to the they were community dances in town^pretty regularly, too. And I guess they got used to it because eventually some of the places they could dance there. There was quite a few places, homes, that opened it up to dancing.

SS: Even on Burnt Ridge?

GC: Yes, on Burnt Ridge.

SS: This was later?

GC: Oh, I don't know, a little later, maybe I was seventeen, eighteen years old. Kellberg let 'em have a barn dance. He built this big barn before they put in the hay. He didn't care one way or the other. Kellberg, I don't think was a religious man, he thought it was probably good for his kids to go to church and it was a comfort to his wife. in his, own.

SS: What was he like?

GC: Oh, he was a joker- he'd get pretty sarcastic and pretty sore about things, too, but he was very vocal, but nobody scared him. Oh, he wasn't a powerful man, but he just wasn't afraid of anybody regard less of how big he was, he was ready to speak up and speak his piece. I liked Mp. Kellberg.

SS: Were he and your father very good friends?

GC: Oh, they were good friends, yes. My father got disgusted with him once in a while because he was a teller of tell stories and you never knew when he was just laying it,on or whether he was actually recounting an incident that happened. He was a good deal older than his wife, oh, he was about the age of my father/fhat would make it about thirty-five years or so that he was older than his oldest child, probably. So, he was ower quite a while in this country. He was in Wyoming for a while. He rode as a cowboy on ranches out there for a nubmer of years, things like that. He said his intro duction- I remember that, he told his introduction to Cheyenne is when he came from the railroad- he worked on the railroad there into Cheyenne, the Union Pacific. As he came, town he found thishe saw a man hanging on a telegraph pole and he counted seven of 'em. Men had been hanged to telephone poles, there had been a lynch ing party. That was his introduction to Cheyenne when he came in.

SS: Now, is that supposed to be true or not?

GC: Now, I don't know, I just wonder if he wasn't laying it on.

SS: You never could tell?

GC: you couldn't prove it. He swears that it was true, but no one investigate whether that happened or not. They probably didn t care,

SS: One more thing about these dances or these get-to-gathers. Usually if you're going to get together in some of these homes, would it be for dancing or for parties?

GC: For play party, yes, if you went into a home.

SS: You'd play party games and that kind of thing

GC: Yes. I know they had- what was it now? Actually there was only one or two places that did any dancing to amount to anything. One was big square house up there, it seems to have been taken down long since. People there didn't object to dancing, they had a good sized parlor, people could dance around there to a little music, they couldn't entertain a whole lot of people, but they didn't mind.

SS: Were they Swedish? This family?

GC: I don't know what they were. Several families lived there at one time or another. I can't even recall their name now, but I know they went there. They said they could dance there. They danced when somebody was invited there for dinner, it wasn't it wouldn't be given especially for young people that wanted to dance, they came there and if people wanted to dance, I think they would dance. But, I seem to remember, oh, I do remember one place; there was a house that was vacant a good deal. It had went through several hands- who purchased that- purchased by someone who lived elsewhere. And he let them into that house to use it. 'jHey had a good sized- What had been undoubtedly the livingroom and dining room of the house. If they didn't mind crowding a little they could get a dozen couples, maybe, on the floor at once. Probably less actually there. And they danced there some. I know it was one of the boys that I went to school with, he was a little older than Six I, I thinks year; or so, was running the farm at that time forhis mother still owned it, she was a widow and he liked to dance. He'd been away attending college for a little while and he liked dancing, so he let 'em in and they had it there and he lived at the homeplace there. He and his sister- his sister was much younger than he but she kept house for him.when he was farming and there we danced, it wasn't the old folks, in case, it was the youn ger generation that was growing up.

SS: So, would it be fair to say that the older generation didn't approve of it?

GC: Didn't approve of it- much. They didn't really try to stop the kids after they were grown or near grown. I think they realized it was futile.

SS: What about the younger generation drinking? About the boys having a drink or two?

GC: Well, I tell you, I think the boys were less inclined for a little sip now and then than some of their fathers were; some weren't. I know there were a couple of men there, that, oh, they'd like a drink once in a while. They weren't fellows that stood around the bar downtown, they would take a bottle home and have it there, give a neighbor a drink if he came in, that was about all. And some were dead against it. It was odd about one family I know out there. All the boys eventually became more or less drinkers, none of them real topers, but occasionally- social drinkers, but the father was dead against it, he wouldn't touch it. One of the reasons was that he had a hard drinking father, and he thought it made things pretty tough on the kids, so he stayed away from it entirely- But his sons sort of- they thought their father didn't get any fun out of life, guess, I don't know. They were never, as I understood nuisances on account of alcohol anywhere at anytime. I don't know, I think oh, a few of the boys drank a little. My brother, Paul's generation liked a little drink now and then. Oh, one or two of 'em could get tooted up alittle from time to time could drink, would always like a little drink and sometimes he drank too much, they said, I never saw him that way,, I didn't think it was. But then I was still a kid when he grew up, he would be about fif teen, sixteen years older than I was.

SS: Do you think the younger generation was less religious than the older? Yes, a lot of em just stopped going to church. When they grew up? Yes.(slight interruption)

Things just grow with the kind of life they had in this country. I think there was less there was more doubt dn religious matters, growing up through that period. They used to accept it, and then there was less and less of that. And, I think, there was maybe revolt against the strictures they put on 'em.

SS: What was that?

GC: Oh, going to church and all that when they didn't feel like going to church. (Laughter)

SS: And maybe being against all that dancing so much and all that?

GC: Uh-huh, a lot of 'em. A lot of 'em became independent in their thoughts.and it didn't include church. I'll tell you, Dean Swanson was one of the earliest freethinkers I knew to express himself on that. I think immortality is just- we go down to the grave and then it makes more earth and more life comes from that, that's all. Most of them never expressed themselves very much on religion. A lot of them so that their children went back to church. Though they hadn't been very good church members in the meantime. (Laughter)

they found was murdered, nobody knows whether he committed suicide or who he was.

SS: Which murder?

GC: Oh, the first one I remember of, I was just a small kid then and it made quite an impression on me because, well, I had heard of mur ders and knew what they were- I thought they happened to wild, mean people living a long ways from the kind of people I knew.(Chuckles) But this mat?shall was shot down in Troy by a fellow he went down to arrest. Most people thought there was more or less a case of self defense, they thought he went down there to try to force him to resist and have an excuse for killing him. That was what a lot of people thought and it was told different ways. There's a little account of that in that book on American Ridge that Ann Driscoll wrote.

SS: Was Hays pretty unpopular?

GC: Yes he was unpopular, yes, except with his cronies and he didn't have too many of them. Well, I don't know, my father despised He said he was crooked. He and his boys, Henry and Harry worked a game on people^. Harry would pick a fight in a saloon and the old man would come in an arrest the other fellow for assault and battery and bring him to jail and probably club him over the head and then he'd- when it came up to court he'd bring other things that he had, a knife maybe or watch that he had taken off of him and a pocketbook with maybe a dollar left in it. That was all he had and the fellow would swear that he had moreK ,and it happened so regularly that he thought that was a game, that they were making money that way by arresting people and lifting their wallets. (Chuckles) It could have been. He didn't last too long in this community after that. The two Hays boys pulled out fairly soon after that. I think there was another- I heard that she had another item in ' that I had always heard differently, and that is it said that Payne Sly had said that he was going to get the marshall, but I heard it the other way 'round; that the Marshall said that he was going to get Payne. So that's two stories there, I don't know which is right.

SS: I heard- two people said to me that after the killing that there were a number of people that wanted to lynch Payne Sly. Yes, yes, the marshall's two sons, Henry and Harry, they were twins, I don't know if Bill was here, he was an older son, or not at that time, but that leads up to the other contradiction from the way I heard the story. He said that there that he was surrendered and brought to Moscow. Well, it didn't say how he really surrendered, but I heard he just-look his rifle and walked across the railroad tracks and up into the American Ridge side there where there was plenty of woods at that time and then he crossed over over to the Moscow road and sat down beside the road and waited.- he figures the marshall would be telephoned for, or ti^raphed for, I think they didn't have much in the way of telephones at that time, and he'd come down for him and when the sheriff came down from there he walked out and surrendered himself. And the sheriff just turned at Troy his team around and drove back to Moscow and notified them that Payne Sly was in custody. He wasn't taking a chance on those people,-

That's what you heard?

That's the way I heard it.

Now, there was another murder?

Well, Clemm, a fellow that was, oh, I don't know- well, his wife ran a boardinghouse and I don't know, he was a hard drinker, he was found in an alley down there back of a little restaurant, or near the, - not the- but the alleyway ran past the restaurant, and he was found in the morning I think or late at night or some thing, dead there, and it looked as if he had had his head banged in. No one was arrested for that. They didn't know who had done it. It might have been even in a fight. Somebody had knocked him down or hit his head or something like that. But he was pro bably very drunk because he had a daily habit of it.

SS: I heard something about there was a suspic ion that this black guy that ran a restaurant in Troy that had done that.

CC: That he'd done that- oh, he'd done that- somebody started that, but as I understood it, there wasn't an iota of evidence- SS: That this guy had done it.

GC: Had done it; the last they knew of him he was tending to his affairs he in the restaurant until closed up and went home.

SS: So nothing ever happened to him?

GC: No, nothing ever happened to him. There was nothing to arrest him on. There was a third one down here and that seemed to be a sense less murder. I never understood exactly why it came to pass. They said there was a witness to that and the story that those two men seemed to be quarreling but not very hard and somebody said he'd given him something and he took and rammed a knife into him. Just exactly- I never did hear what the cause of the quarrel was sup posed to be or why he was suddenly enraged, but anyway he was ar rested and brought to trial. I never did know just exactly what kind of a sentence he got. Payne Sly got life sentence, but he didn't spend more than six, seven, eight years there.

GC: He was abrother of old Jake Sly ..

END OF INTERVIEW Transcribed by Frances Rawlins 10-17-78

0:00 - Fathers immigrating from Sweeden to Moscow and build some of first buildings at the University of Idaho

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Segment Synopsis: Most of the children in father's family came to America from Sweden. How parents came to Spokane from Minnesota; to Moscow to work on the first university building. Buying Jack Driscoll's place on Burnt Ridge (1899). Smith place on Burnt Ridge. Sons bore brunt of clearing Carlson place while father built houses.

11:00 - Rural schools on the Ridge in 1899

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Segment Synopsis: Rural school. Shorter length of term. Boys became retarded by "laying out" of school to help on the farms. No teachers in the fall of 1899 on Burnt Ridge. Some teachers were not even high school graduates, but had passed the examination for a third grade certificate. Teachers were good enough to get the children going. Mostly men teachers on Burnt Ridge. A teacher who played favorites forced a boy to chew a mouthful of paper.

26:00 - Few boys on the Ridge continued onto high school, which was in Lewiston

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Segment Synopsis: "Laying out" of school discouraged boys from going to high school, which was regarded as requiring brilliance. His brother Joe was the first on the ridge to go away to school, to the preparatory department of Lewiston Normal. Mother reluctant to leave Moscow because of educational facilities there.

29:00 - Extensiveness of work on the farm

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Segment Synopsis: Extensiveness of work on the farm.

30:00 - Description of mother as a hard worker

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Segment Synopsis: Mother a very hard worker. When old she worked on quilts. Help from an Indian woman to deliver her baby in Spokane. Her midwiving on the ridge. Sisters helped with farm work when mother was gone.

37:00 - Description of sister Ellen who worked in Troy

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Segment Synopsis: Sister Ellen worked in Troy store when young, and worked in local prune and cherry orchards with other girls.

41:00 - Homes in canyon off the south end of Burnt Ridge

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Segment Synopsis: Homes in the canyon off the south end of Burnt Ridge. They were places to live, but not to make a living. Some of this land was purchased by Sanders.

46:00 - Man confused by land and road boundaries

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Segment Synopsis: A man who couldn't survey his land boundaries right. Burying survey stones at the section corners. A man who used a road so much he thought it was his.

53:00 - Homesteaders didn't stay too long in the area; many Swedish immigrants went to church in Troy

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Segment Synopsis: Good neighbors were fair about helping each other. Most of the original homesteaders didn't stay too long. One man was hot headed. The Swedish people attended Lutheran church in Troy. Sanders bought land on Nez Perce prairie and sold his land to Lanphere; he died trying to homestead in Canada.

60:00 - Origin of Burnt Ridge's name

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Segment Synopsis: Burnt Ridge's name probably came from being burned. Indian burning.

62:00 - Parents believed they should control children's income

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Segment Synopsis: Parents believed they should control children's income.

64:00 - Various work on the farm was delegated to boys of all ages

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Segment Synopsis: Older boys worked out in harvests, while younger did work at home. Beans required cultivating all summer; hiring boys became too expensive, leading to switch to peas. Bean growing replaced fallowing (c. 1910). A small bean crop prior to that time. Cycle of wheat, oats or barley and fallow. Some neighbors raised corn and potatoes, but markets were poor.

73:00 - Farmers and wheat varieties

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Segment Synopsis: Wheat varieties; farmers tried the new kinds.

76:00 - Problems of harvesting wheat and beans on Burnt Ridge

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Segment Synopsis: Seeding fall wheat before the snows. Spring wheats. Good winters had good snow covering and no hard freezes after chinook winds. Increased concentration of beans didn't pay; problems of harvesting beans. Stacking grain was necessary before threshing machines became common. First steam rig to appear on Burnt Ridge; subsequent threshing machines. A community-owned thresher on the ridge.

91:00 - Preparing ground for wheat planting

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Segment Synopsis: Preparing ground for planting. Beans weren't planted before mid-May. Rolling a log or clod masher to even the ground.

96:00 - Wheat, beans, and peas growing in Latah County

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Segment Synopsis: Planting beans in straight rows. Dew and rain determined when you could start in the field. Long threshing days. Wheat yields. Peas took hold in eastern Latah County first, because summers were cooler. Experimenting with varieties of peas and beans.

110:00 - Failed attempt at Farmer's Union

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Segment Synopsis: Efforts to have farmer's union didn't come to much. Duthie and Green had warehouses in Troy. Warehousemen made money on resale of sacks. Dockage.

115:00 - Modernization and improvement in lifestyle for farmers in the 1920s

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Segment Synopsis: Farmers improved their position year by year, so they could buy places that came up for sale. Many owned their land clear but mortgaged as they expanded. Cars came around World War I; first car around Troy was the mail carrier's. The twenties was hard on farmers. Some ridge families. A farmer who planted to grass and quit farming.

125:00 - Hunting on Burnt Ridge a mystery

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Segment Synopsis: Hunting on Burnt Ridge remains a mystery. Wild Davy (David Coventry) and author William Drannon were thought to be the same person by many because of the picture in the book.

132:00 - Political parties in Lewiston and Troy area; father supported Socialist Party; teachers discussed current events in schools

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Segment Synopsis: Father supported Socialist Party. His convictions were formed from broad reading. Populist party; Ignatius Donnelly's novel about the future. Father was only socialist on Burnt Ridge, but there were a few around Troy. Inland Echo, a Lewiston socialist newspaper. Socialists ran Fourth of July celebration at Troy one year. Socialist philosophy: public control of things publicly used. Sympathy for workingman. Farmers' independence - they felt they were getting ahead by themselves. A good teacher who discussed current affairs with the school kids predicted that many socialist ideas would be widely accepted. Father sometimes debated politics with neighbors.

143:00 - Harvest fires and hostility of the IWW's

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Segment Synopsis: Hostility to IWW's. Harvest fires probably arose from smut and carelessness; never confirmed that they were set by IWW's.

147:00 - School life at the U of I; classes, Army Corps, drinking at fraternities, fight between U of I and WSC

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Segment Synopsis: His schooling. At the U of I he was in Students' Army Training Corps, which was disbanded before he was called. Small size of University. His career work. Drinking at fraternities was kept quiet. The university presidents' (including Lindley) discouraged fighting between the U of I and WSC.

153:00 - Double standard of men and women in University

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Segment Synopsis: Double standard - a dean of women but no dean of men. Sex outside of marriage was kept very quiet at the university because it was so frowned upon. University boys at ROTC in Spokane went wild at night. Soliciting in Spokane and Moscow. Some prostitutes started as impulsive girls. Boys were too young to fight in the First World War; they came back demoralized and this was reflected in changing morals on campus.

163:00 - Interruption of education for need to work and fulfill family duties

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Segment Synopsis: Students often interrupted education to work. Men looked at women as intellectual equals. Women were expected to become homemakers after marriage, although many worked later. He decided to teach because it seemed to offer good opportunities.

173:00 - Tension between town and country youth in Moscow and Troy

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Segment Synopsis: Why more town youth went to high school than country youth. Social tensions between town and country were much greater in Moscow than Troy, where there was little difference.

178:00 - Students seek alternate cheaper housing and hire own cook

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Segment Synopsis: A large number of students rented a house together and hired their own cook. Many didn't join a fraternity because of the extra expense. Importance of fraternities was overrated. Fraternity and non-fraternity students mixed freely.

183:00 - Non-Greeks financially more independet than parents; classes; political parties; social activities in school

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Segment Synopsis: Non-frat boys were more independent financially from their parents. An oddball who was a wizard with figures. Advantage of teaching mathematics over history. Young people thought they were far removed from pioneering. Difficulties with early cars and mads. Winter isolation wasn't great. Social activities at the university - dances, picnics, church groups.

197:00 - Churches in the area; father opposed churches and family was known as heathen

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Segment Synopsis: Father's opposition to church formalism and emphasis on appearances. He did support Nora Lutheran Church, which had active missionaries. Father's independence of thought. He bought many books to learn the language. He wasn't a highly practical man. The family seldom went to church and was perhaps regarded as "heathen." They went to church on Christmas morning and Easter.

209:00 - Closeness of families that lived on the Ridge

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Segment Synopsis: Closeness on the ridge came from deep ties between families, based on kinship and old friendships. Cnusin relationships on the ridge. Influence of family connections in settlement.

214:00 - Swedish immigrants formed close communities in the area

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Segment Synopsis: Tendency to trust kin. Many on the ridge were Swedes from the same province in Sweden. Non-Swedes may have felt somewhat as outsiders. Porter got a reputation as a bully. Use of school as community center, for speakers and regular Friday night parties. Play parties at homes. Kellberg was an interesting character: his story about hangings in Wyoming. Despite opposition to dancing, young people danced in town and at a few special places on the ridge.

232:00 - Sons drank less and were less religious than fathers

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Segment Synopsis: In many cases sons drank less than their fathers; drinking sons. The young turned away from religion.

236:00 - Crime and murder in Moscow of Hays and Sly

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Segment Synopsis: Many thought that Marshall Hays was trying to get Payne Sly to resist to justify killing him. Hatred of Hays for arresting people so he could rob them. Hays had said he was going to get Sly. Story that Sly walked towards Moscow after the killing and turned himself into the sheriff. Death of Clemm, a heavy drinker, went unsolved; a fatal knifing.


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