In October of 1950 Mom and Daddy put the Porterville place up for sale and took a trip into Idaho looking for a farm to buy. They looked at places in Lake Fork, Moscow and St Maries, Idaho, traversing the entire length of Idaho, ending up near the Canadian border. On the return trip they decided to look at the Lake Fork place one last time, and while there put down earnest money until they could sell the property and take care of their affairs in Porterville.
One month later December 3, 1950, four trucks were loaded with machinery, horses, cows and household furniture. A “touring car” carried the rest of the family. The five hundred mile trip from Porterville, Utah to Lake Fork, Idaho took two days. We left Utah in a rainstorm and arrived in Lake Fork in a blinding blizzard.
The county road, that led to our new house was snow covered, with wind blowing a gale, making it impossible to see the unplowed road. Finally we arrived at the house to find it locked and the key nowhere to be found. I remember standing there in a strange place, in the dark close to the car, wondering what we would do now. I heard Daddy’s voice as he said, “Della come here I have an idea. I will pry up the window with this shovel, and since you are the smallest person here we’ll see if you can crawl through and unlock the door.” With him boosting me up, I squeezed through the window and found myself standing in a dark, bare room, which I assumed was our new living room. A light flashed in front of me and Daddy said, “here is a flashlight, take it, find the door and open it from the inside.” Soon everyone found the open door and came into the house, stumbling around in the dark until the electrical box was found and the electricity turned on.
I remember Mom and Daddy starting fires in both stoves, the fire snapping and crackling and soon the smell of chili filled the room as it bubbled on the stovetop. My sister and I had already explored the main floor and were very intrigued with the stairway that led up to more bedrooms. Daddy and the other men headed outside to unload the animals, fed them hay, and made sure they could get fresh water. After everyone had their supper of chili and homemade bread with home canned peaches for dessert, mattresses on the floor were quickly made up into beds, and all the weary travelers were soon asleep.
Daddy planned to make a new start in Long Valley, a place he grew to love. He was forty-four years old, strong, healthy and one of the hardest working men I have ever known. He farmed the two hundred acres of tillable land and again contracted out his labor and machinery to neighbors for extra income. He left the milk cows, all but one, in Utah swearing he would never be a slave to them again, but had to eat his words when it became apparent that they afforded the only way to have a small steady income, to supply much needed cash. He brought home bum lambs from a big sheep rancher and started a herd of sheep. He also diversified with a small herd of Angus/Hereford cattle. Pigs and chickens were added to the mix.
Three hundred acres of timberland came in the purchase and would be logged and sold to pay off the mortgage and finally Daddy would own property free and clear. That was his dream.
The sound of chainsaws echoed high on the hill at the edge of the property in the spring of 1951. Daddy investigated and found a small local timber company (part of a larger timber company) cutting timber on his new property. They claimed to have the timber rights on this property and had moved their machinery into this part of the forest, using an old logging road for access instead of using the road that came passed our house. Daddy immediately sought legal help, but the sound of chainsaws continued. After many heart wrenching months, the case was settled out of court. But what did he have left? Yes, the cash settlement paid off the lawyers and other bills associated with the court case. But the company harvested and sold the prime timber, leaving the land scared and ravaged. His dream of owning land, free and clear, again only a dream. Although I saw him bitter and defeated he still struggled on, thinking that more hard work would someday pay off. He somehow kept a positive attitude never losing his faith or sense of humor.
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