Keep Reading...22º

Driving into the Wallowa Valley on that early March day, clouds covered the mountains, a few snow banks, dirty and gray, covered with ash, were all that remained of the winters snow...A hugh plume of smoke from the Boise Cascade mill, settled over the valley...We made our first stop at the Forest Service (Joseph District, where Herb would work) a mile North of the city of Joseph...After introducing himself and explaining his sudden appearance (because of his mothers death,) the district clerks, (women who manned the front desks) made him feel welcome and guided him in the direction of a realtor, who could help in our search for a house...We had never really looked for a house before because FS housing had always been available for us to rent...We had no intention of buying a house because this was a short term stay, before we moved on, in a few years, to another job, in another town, never knowing where.

We met Mr. Wilson at a small yellow house just off of main street, it was actually for sale but the owners might rent it in a pinch...It was a small 2 bedroom, nothing like what we had lived in and I wondered, where would we put all of our furniture?..Mr. Wilson knew of another house that would be coming up for rent but it was occupied at the moment and we could only do a drive by...This house  was on Barton Heights, only a few blocks off main street...We followed a narrow road, up a short steep hill, and stopped in front of an older white house, similar to the one I grew up in...Mr. Wilson kept up a running commentary, answering our questions and filling us in on information about Joseph...As we sat in the car, peering out the windows he said, "The owners of this house live in Alaska and are in no hurry to rent, until they find responsible renters..."Then as an after thought he said, "Mr. Hayes works for the FS in Alaska."...Herb immediately jumped on that piece of info, asked if we could possibly get a phone number...Maybe, just maybe, he would rent to a FS family, with good references.

Thanking Mr. Wilson, we parted ways and found a room for the night at the "Walter Brennan Motel," at the end of main street...The Gold Room Cafe was our choice for a late lunch...While eating our lunch, I watched the people at other tables, wondering, who are these people, are they friends and neighbors that we have yet to meet?"...Herb had other thoughts running through his head and as soon as he finished eating, his pocket full of quarters, he left us and went looking for a phone booth...Hugs To All...OWAV:)