On the move again...35º Cloudy

  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. The one negative in this move was, they would be leaving behind, Loraine & Steve and  4 grandchildren.

 

On December 1st, 1950, four trucks were loaded with machinery, horses, cows and household furniture. A “touring car” carried the rest of the family. The 500 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, (Mom had planned ahead) 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, unloaded the furniture then 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 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.

To be continued...Hugs To All...OWAV:)

Lake Fork/McCall was snow country...I don't think Mom and Daddy had any idea what they were getting into, when they moved to Idaho.

Daddy is in the drivers seat

Mona and Idella in front. 

The road to our house.

Third grade at Wood Grove 

 Loraine and Barbara were teenagers, George in junior high and Mona soon started 1st grade, when the move was made to Porterville, Utah…Loraine loved Porterville, Barbara not so much…Barbara said that she was teased and the girls, her age, were hateful and mean. Over the next 9 years, Loraine married Steve Smith, (over next 20 years had nine children.) Barbara married Worthy Reed had one son, divorced and married Jim Stevens.  George married Marlene Madden (over next 25 years had six girls,) divorced and later married Clare Crawford. 

While in Porterville, Daddy borrowed money to buy a combine and a baler and had a good business working for other farmers. The idea was to pay off the new machinery with money earned from these jobs. Money always seemed to be in short supply no matter how hard my parents worked. Always of course the weather played a big part in farming and just when a bumper crop seemed eminent, hail or torrential rain would ruin it. The farm after nine years was not able to support a family, and Daddy started talking about moving. There were other reasons that my parents decided to move, 1st was that most summer weekends. relatives would gather at our little farm on their weekend off to relax and Mom would cook dinners for extra people as well as her own family. They also loved taking home, butter, cream, milk, and eggs fresh from the farm. Although they liked having family come to visit, it was wearing both of my parents out. 2nd reason, Daddy had taken on the job of “water master” and was woken up in the middle of the night by a “water user” because someone was stealing his water. Come to find out the Mormon Bishop was the culprit and so of course the “user” would not press charges. Also Mom was helping neighbors, going through hard times, and asked the Bishop for help, from the church. It was not forth coming, so she asked other neighbors for a donation and came up with $300.00 for the family.

 Daddy wasn’t a fan of some Mormon beliefs, such as No Coffee, Whiskey, Cigarettes or Swearing. He believed in “the Man Upstairs” and that in everyday life you should do unto others, be truthful, sharing, and kind to all, no matter what their station was in life. Mom and Daddy decided it was time to make a change. To be continued..  Hugs To All...OWAV:)

  

Mona takes up guitar

Mom digging in the dirt.

 With the settlement from the mine company, bills that had accumulated during the past three years were paid off. Daddy and Mom went in search of a small farm to buy. With the hope that a small farm with a few milk cows would bring in cash for food and clothing. They could raise chickens, sheep, pigs and beef along with a large vegetable garden for most of their food. As Daddy’s health improved a small farm would be doable. The family moved to Porterville, Utah in the spring of 1941

In 1941 Daddy settled into farming like any other job, working long hours, trying to eke out a living for his family. He plowed a garden spot, amended the soil and he and Mom planted raspberries, strawberries and a vegetable garden. They purchased a few sheep, pigs, chickens and milk cows to supply their food and bought only sugar, flour, paper products and clothing, from the store. They worked side by side. Both of them milked cows while the kids gathered eggs, and fed the animals. Daddy always helped with the supper dishes before he relaxed in the living room after a full day of work.  In their spare time they made the house more livable, again papering and painting. While Daddy worked in the fields, harvesting hay and grain to store for the winter, Mom planted flowers, weeded the vegetable garden, cooked meals, baked bread and persevered fruits, vegetables and meats to fill the cellar for winter.

I was born a year after they moved to Porterville, completing their family. Everyone wanted another boy, and vowed to have nothing to do with me, another girl!  But Mom said that as soon as I started to cry they couldn’t wait to hold me. My older siblings were in their teens when I was born and loved taking care of me. My sister, Mona was six years older than me and was not happy, when I got more than my share of attention from “her” Daddy.  She didn’t like me sitting on his knee at the breakfast table tasting his coffee. Daddy’s coffee was the best. It was a cup almost full of very strong coffee, with two spoons full of sugar added and then filled with thick cream. Mona didn’t like the taste of coffee but would try to inch her way in, so she could sit on Daddy’s lap as well. He would move me to his other knee and say, “Okay Sister come on there is room for you too,” and we would sit, each on a knee, me taking sips of his coffee, until he hugged us and lovingly scooted us off his lap and left for work.to be continued...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

The following photos, Mom & Daddy, Idella, Loraine and baby George, Barbara and baby Alan, Son George shoveling snow, Mona in the tree. Idella, baby George and baby Alan added to the family in Porterville.

                       
    

                                

     

!940's, a world at war, rationing...32º

 With the settlement from the mine company, bills that had accumulated during the past three years were paid off. Daddy and Mom went in search of a small farm to buy. With the hope that a small farm with a few milk cows would bring in cash for food and clothing. They could raise chickens, sheep, pigs and beef along with a large vegetable garden for most of their food. As Daddy’s health improved a small farm would be doable. The family moved to Porterville, Utah in the spring of 1941.

(The following figures & information was found on the internet, I think it is important to my story, as it gives a perspective of life in the 40's) 

In 1941 the average cost of a new house was $4,075.00, average yearly wages $1,750.00, gasoline 12 cents a gallon and houses rented for $32.00 a month.  Europe was at war and the US soon to follow. December 7th 1941, the United States, after being attacked by the Japanese at Pearl Harbor, entered WW ll. More than 2400 American servicemen were killed in that attack. Until that time the US had remained neutral, but now tanks were dispatched to Britain along with food, trucks, guns and ammunition. For the next five years all of America was affected by the war. 

The war touched our family because many of my parent’s nephews served our country overseas. Their daily living changed when the government issued stamps for gas, tires etc. In 1942 the US began to ration some necessities to guarantee that everyone would receive a fair share and to help prevent inflation. The following items were: sugar, gasoline, bicycles, footwear, fuel oil, silk, nylon, coffee, stoves, meat, cheese, butter, canned foods, dried fruits, jam, and many other items. Production of new automobiles and appliances stopped. Books of rationing stamps were issued to each person in a household including babies and children. Ration stamps had an expiration date to prevent hoarding. Automobile racing and sight seeing were banned. Unemployment that had continued through the years of the depression ended with the start of the war, as wartime production created millions of new jobs. As the young men were drafted, women stepped into the workforce to replace them. This started the trend as women left traditional roles of homemaker and mother and moved on to a career. storie to be continued tomorrow...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

The following photos were taken in the 40's.

Moms parents, George &

Jessie Parkin-- 50th wedding

anniversary. 

Daddy's father, George Ashton top left

 and sister Atha

  3 of his siblings,

Middle row, left, Josh, Lorene and Joe.

child???

A break in the story, Personalities...29º. supposed to be sunny today.

 I have often heard the saying, that in a marriage, "opposites attract." With my parents, that wasn't totally true, but I think it is true, to some extent in all couples...I picture Daddy as strong, kind, giving, hard working, gentle and loving, not afraid to show emotion...I picture Mom as strong, kind, giving, hard working, out spoken and didn't show emotions.

I've talked to my older sisters about this and got some answers, when they said, "We always went to Daddy when we had a problem, when we were hurting, and needed hugs, not to Mom." That and the fact that Barbara, took care of me as a baby,  explained why I never felt close to her, in my growing up years...Sometimes, Mom would make remarks, that we loved Daddy more than her...We showed more love to him, because he was so easy to hug/love, to sit on his knee and drink his coffee, plus he put way more sugar and cream in his coffee, than she did...Mom was more the disciplinarian, and not that we needed it because we all saw how hard they worked and followed that example...We didn't want to disappoint them, and make life harder.

We didn't get "grounded" or have a curfew growing up...The words "don't be late," were heard as we left the house on a date...But the unwritten rule was, "if we got home late from a dance, we knew we had to "pay the fiddler," be up, dressed and at the barn to milk cows at 5:30AM...George was the only one to have a problem with this rule, he hated getting up to milk cows!

As you have seen in some of the stories, both Blanche and Joe had to be strong growing up, and in their marriage they had to be strong in different ways...She, in her own way, kept his drinking to a minimum, she juggled the money, to get through the month/year, and found money when he needed another piece of equipment...He worked the farm, took care of animals, plus a second job to bring in cash for clothes, necessities and new machinery...They were a team, sometimes at odds, but respectful and loving to each other...to be continued Hugs to All...OWAV:)

Mom and Dad in front of the Porterville house, I think these two photos' tell it all.

Trusting Billy Ball....29º snow and rain overnight, sunshine today?

“I took a deep breath and said,  ‘Joe, I think we have to do what Billy says. The company has been stringing you along for many months now and I think Billy is telling us the truth.’  Billy breathed a sigh of relief and thanked me. Then he looked at Daddy and said, please listen to your wife. Don’t you see?  I had to come here tonight, because you are a good man and a hard worker and I can’t let the company do this to you and your family.’”  

 “Your Dad looked at me and then at Billy, and then said. ‘You must be telling me the truth to risk your own job. Okay I will do as you say, when I meet with the company officials tomorrow.’” 

 

Mom exhaled a long breath. I wondered how long it had been since she’d told that story.

“What happened next?” I asked.

“Billy stood, shook hands with both of us, and left by the back door. Your dad and I watched from the window and he was quickly swallowed up in the darkness.” 

 

 “We didn’t sleep much the rest of the night and were very unsure of what would happen at the meeting, but your Dad didn’t sign any papers or pick up a rake the next day at the meeting, and after the meeting, we hired a lawyer to advise us further. We did get a settlement from the mining company eventually and we were always so thankful to Billy Ball, a man who dared to speak out. to be continued. Hugs to All...OWAV:)

Mom told me a story from long ago... 29º foggy

 Mom related the following story to me in 1992, long after Daddy’s death. She and I sitting in the living room of her modest home in Elgin, Oregon, the smell of dinner cooking in the oven. Mom was 83, I was 50. 

 “Della have I ever told you about the time Billy Ball came to our house in the middle of the night in Diamondville, Wyoming?” 

“No Mom, I’ve never heard that story. I know you’ve talked about him and know that you and Daddy both had a great deal of respect for him. But why would he come in the middle of the night?” 

 She began talking about her and Daddy’s early life, how he had been injured in the coal mine and how the company “dragged its feet” giving him a settlement. Her voice sounded far away and I sensed that she was back in a time, long before I was born.

 “In the middle of the night before your dad was to have a meeting with company officials, we heard someone knocking on our bedroom window” “Daddy got up and saw Billy Ball, a company official motioning to let him in. Daddy quickly went to unlock the back door and asked him to come inside. We sat, in our nightclothes in the living room, with only a dim light, and listened to Billy. 

She paused for a moment, remembering. “Billy talked in a hushed voice,” Mom told me. “He looked at your father and said, ‘Joe, you must tell no one about my being here tonight or neither of us will have a job. Tomorrow at the meeting, the company officials will ask you to sign papers so they can proceed with your claim, but if you sign, you will get nothing from the company. The papers are worded in such a way that you will sign away all rights to a settlement. Also, he continued, ‘they will try to get you to take a job, raking and picking up around the mine and they will insist that you start now, giving you a rake and watching what you can do. Do not touch the rake, simply refuse to do any of the things they ask.’ Then Billy looked at both your Dad and I and said,  ‘Do you understand?’

“So what did you and Daddy do?”  I asked.

“Your Dad wasn’t sure at first. He looked at Billy. ‘Yes, I hear you,’ he told him. ‘But how do I know that you are telling me the truth?  Why would the company try to cheat me out of a settlement that I have every right too?  I can’t work, we will be out on the street and my family will starve.’  Billy shifted in his seat and tried to persuade your father. ‘Joe, you must believe me,’ he said. ‘I have risked my own job by coming here tonight. Why do you think I came here under the cover of darkness?  Please believe what I am telling you or you will have nothing.’

“Then your Dad looked right at me and said, ‘Blanche, what do you think?”

I sat forward, now on the edge of my chair, waiting to hear what my mother said. To be continued...Hugs To All...OWAV:) 

* I don't have photos for the next few years, I will use the following one of Mon and Daddy, holding Mona when she was about 2 years old...They had 3 other children,  George was 7, Barbara 9, and Loraine 11...Approximately...For the next 3 years, Daddy was disabled, receiving a small disability check and Mom was keeping the family together, with the help of friends and relatives.

Would life ever get better?...27º, cloudy

A couple of years passed, work at the coal mine grew steadier now and a move was under way to form a union for the workers. Mom and Daddy continued to work hard to provide for their family, but they also enjoyed small pleasures, such as listening to the radio on Saturday nights. Daddy’s favorite was the Saturday night boxing matches. As he sat near the radio, listening through the static, the four kids crawled onto his lap to listen with him. Sunday nights they would pop corn on the wood stove, each took a turn shaking the corn popper. On rare occasions Mom would make divinity or fudge so everyone could have a treat. 

On March 3, 1938, Daddy fell while riding coal down the chute in the coal mine and suffered broken vertebrae in his back. A full body cast kept him immobile for three months and when the doctor removed it, Daddy tried to stand but fell to the floor. The bones set improperly, had not healed. 

Arrangements were made for him to take the train back to the Mayo Brothers Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. Daddy underwent surgery while there, but was still in great pain when the hospital released him to return home. He started seeing Doctor Heather in Salt Lake City. Dr. Heather preformed another surgery, he removed a three-inch piece of bone from Daddy’s shin and fused it into his back to repair the broken vertebrae. 

The back injury caused him pain and suffering the rest of his life. But at least he could walk. Over a span of three years from the time of Daddy’s accident, he spent ninety-six days in hospitals underwent two operations and remained unable to work. All this time negotiations continued with the mine company for a settlement. The company said he was “just lazy."

While Daddy was “laid up” with his back, Mom raised and sold fryers (frying chickens) to the local grocery store, with the help of her children. She also sold eggs and butter, to supplement the meager disability stipend they received. Three years passed before Daddy could maybe, return to full time work. to be continued...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

I'm assuming that this is just before the coal mine accident...No photos during that time.

This photo with Daddy

holding Mona, middle row,

is Loraine and George, in 

front is a neighbors child, not 

Barbara.

Life is a struggle... 35º foggy

 Christmas would always be a difficult time for Daddy, never able to cope with or understand “Baby’s” (as Joel was called) death. He turned to alcohol as it dulled the pain and sorrow of loosing a child. Daddy’s drinking would be the biggest “bone of contention” throughout my parents’ marriage. One that he and Mom never resolved, he was not a mean person when drinking, but he made bad decisions, and it affected our lives in many ways.

Alcoholism was a problem that Daddy shared with his two brothers and later his son George, also became its victim, all heavy drinkers. He stayed away from alcohol most of the time, but he could not have a social drink. One drink led to another, then another; he turned to alcohol in times of high stress, such as years when wheat and cattle prices were low. These things didn't seem so bad, when alcohol took off the edge. When drinking, Daddy bought luxuries for his family, luxuries in the form of a new car, when our old one was still in very good working order. It made some rough times for our family especially for Mom, because she was the one who had to juggle and stretch the dollars, to pay the bills at the end of the month.  I remember some, not all, Christmas's, not because of Santa Claus or presents, but because Daddy was drinking and our house was in turmoil. Mom always came down with a migraine headache and stayed in bed. My older sisters and brother took care of the rest of us.  As I grew older I came to understand that he drank at Christmas time to hide the memories, the Christmas of 1936, when they lost their little boy, Joel. to be continued...Hugs To All...OWAV:) 

The following photos, mom has written on the back of them...Left to right--- 

Barbara, Joel, Blanche, George and Loraine

Same photo with Daddy in it and 

on the back is written, in front of 

the Oakly Place.

First years of marriage...Cloudy, 31º

Daddy continued his job working for a cattle ranch, that came with a "shack" to live in and occasionally beef or mutton was included instead of cash, they eked out a living through that first hard winter...In the spring, Loraine had turned 4. Barbara turned 2, and a new baby boy, George, joined the family in May...(I'm only using my memory here, of what I heard from Mom, as to how life was for this family...George was a shy boy, growing up with 2 girls....He was upset and cried, when at Christmas he received a toy tractor and the girls both got a doll and he wasn't happy until he also got a doll, just like the girls...They took care of him, and included him in their daily games...One story I remember hearing many times was as follows...One of the "kids" decided that their dolls needed to be baptized and the little irrigation ditch that they played in seemed the perfect place...You can imagine, the dolls didn't just get a dunk in the ditch, but were literally drowned, soggy and wet, never to be played with again...George was heartbroken and shed many tears and was always loved and comforted by his two, older adoring sisters.

Two years later another little boy, Joel, arrived on the scene...He quickly grew into a gregarious, happy, fun loving little boy, not afraid of anything and George was in awe!..Another story goes like this...Mom made the girls circle skirts and the boys rompers, out of the same fabric...The children had watched the making of these and were very excited, when the day finally came that they would get to wear them...Everyone dressed in their new finery, and the girls twirled and danced in their circle skirts...Yes, you guessed it, George twirled and danced in his rompers and dissolved in tears, when his didn't swirl, like the girls...Joel watched all of this unfold and had no sympathy for George, shaking his head he cried out "Bawl Georgie, Bawl, Bawl Georgie, Bawl," then gave his older brother a big hug and help dry his tears...At another time, George thought he was being picked on by the entire family and escaped to his safe place, behind the wood stove, with the dog...His parting words were, "You would think I was the "adopted one" around here!" In spite of all this he grew into a kind, loving brother.

Joel was only 2 1/2 years old when he died,  Mom said that he talked early and sometimes had a language all his own and told animated stories about made-up people and animals...He was a special light in an otherwise bleak world...A new baby, Mona, helped and there was little time to grieve in this harsh world, with 4 children to care for, the work never stopped...Day by day in the stormy, windy Wyoming winter, work that actually paid money was hard to come by, this family struggled and soon more hardships to face...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

Doll for everyone.

George and Joel

Joel

Daddy, Joel, George

Writing a new story...cloudy, foggy, 32º

  I have to write a new story to add in before I continue with the original stories...I will try to get that done today...Rusty and I had a good trip to La Grande yesterday...I met with a new "low vision optometrist" about my Macular Degeneration...He was able to change my glasses prescription just a little bit for better closeup vision and said my vision is really very good, considering all things!..So I have to go with that, because it can change at any time or it can keep up the slow progression that i've been doing for many years now!.. Positive thoughts!

...Roads were good yesterday, Rusty is a good driver, we met niece, Sue, for lunch, that was fun...The side roads and parking lots in La Grande are a mess, snow is piled everywhere and a foot of slush is the norm...We are lucky in Wallowa County, with maybe 8 inches of snow, roads mostly plowed...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

A burn pile in the meadow

as Rusty cleans up

from the cottonwood

trees, that John fell.

A new baby brings joy, Joels death brings heartbreak.

 Our country was in the midst of the “great depression”. Daddy worked two jobs to support his growing family. My older sisters and brother have fond memories of growing up in Diamondville, and didn’t notice that their plates were filled first and their parents took small portions. Diamondville was a “rough” town with many different ethnic groups. They learned to be tolerant and love people for who they were, no matter what their nationality. The family dog, “Duke”, half German Shepard and half Great Dane, became their constant companion. They walked to the grocery store for bones for the dog, and then took them home so Mom could make broth out of them before the dog chewed on them, for his dinner. Daddy felt that the children were safer when Duke accompanied them. They walked the railroad tracks together, pulling a wagon, picking up coal that had fallen from the rail cars, as the trains left town. Coal served a duel purpose as it simmered the soup bones and warmed the house at the same time. 

In December 1936 the family anxiously awaited the birth of another baby, Mom was due to deliver any day when Joel, 2 1/2 years old, came down with a chest cold, that soon turned into pneumonia. Mona arrived December 14, 1936, and Joel felt well enough to reach out and touch her soft baby face, saying “isn’t Mona pretty?”  A few days later his breathing became labored and without antibiotics, he died of double pneumonia on December 21, 1936. Mona was a week old and Christmas was four days away. With the help of family and friends the family pushed on, through that long, difficult winter. to be continued.  Hugs to All...OWAV:)

Joel Parkin Ashton,

always called "Baby Joel" by

his family

The telegram was the fastest

mode of sending news in

the 30's

They tied the knot... 25º

 My parents married on September 3, 1930, one year into the great depression. They stood before a Justice of the Peace, with a borrowed ring and Aunt Jessie and Uncle Truman acted as their witnesses. Blanche held Loraine’s hand, and Daddy held Barbara in his arms, as they exchanged vows. Daddy started to put the ring on Blanche’s finger; Barbara accidentally hit his hand and knocked the ring to the floor. Amid much laughter and scrambling around on hands and knees, everyone looked for the ring before the ceremony could continue. With the last “I do,” Blanche and Daddy shared a kiss, hugged the two little girls and started a life that in the next twelve years would see four more children added to their family:  George, born May 25,1931; Joel, July 5,1934; Mona, December 14,1936; and myself, October 21,1942.

Their married life began in Granger, Utah, later moving to, Diamondville, Wyoming. Daddy worked for a ranch that furnished them a  “shack”, to live in. I can see then now, cleaning, plugging holes between the rough boards with old rags, as they tried to block out the ever-present Wyoming wind. In summer dirt sifted through the cracks and in winter, mounds of snow were ever present inside the house. Mom found more rags and plugged more holes. They papered walls with old newspapers to hide the grease and grime of many years, and add light to the small rooms. A milk cow supplied the family with milk, butter and cream, and chickens furnished fresh eggs and occasionally graced the table for a special Sunday dinner.  Mom at 20 years old was already an accomplished cook and seamstress. She planted a garden, giving them fresh vegetables for the summers and when Daddy bought her a pressure cooker she worked during the heat of the day, over a wood stove, canning vegetables and meat along with fruit to store for winter. She stitched together warm coats for Loraine and Barbara, out of hand me downs from her family. In the evenings seated close to the stove, under a dim light from the gas lantern, she mended old and worn clothes so they would last another year. After the family moved to Diamondville, Wyoming, in the early 1930’s, Daddy still worked as a ranch hand but also found part time work in the coalmines. He told me he liked working in the coal mines, but only because when under ground the days passed quickly. To be continued. Hugs To All...OWAV:)

The following photos were in their first years of marriage.

Loraine, Mom, George, Barbara

Daddy, looks like he

had a rough day.

Cowboys, moonshine, dances, pretty girls...14º, still dark.

 Moonshine whiskey, cheap and available, accompanied the cowboys on trail rides, roundups, brandings and local dances. At the dances, dressed in clean Levi’s, cowboy shirts with kerchief’s around their necks, moonshine whiskey limbered cowboy legs after riding all day and they danced with pretty girls, late into the night. I choose to believe that Joe met a certain girl, Blanche Parkin Fields, at one of those dances in 1929. I know for a fact that he courted her, taking her to dances where they danced to the strains of  “The Tennessee Waltz” and “You are My Sunshine.” Joe sang along as he held her close. 

      Blanche, recently divorced, and in need of a home, moved with her two little girls to her parents ranch. On his days off Joe rode horseback to the Parkin ranch, where he stayed for dinner and then played endless games of cards on cold winter evenings. Joe found another way to help pass the evenings, he loved children, and spent time playing with Blanche’s two little girls, Loraine, age three, and Barbara only nine months. I can picture him in my mind as after supper he, holding a little girl in each arm, singing them to sleep.

Blanche at age twenty had a slim figure, hazel eyes and dark wavy hair. Joe fell in love not only with her, but also with her two little girls. I’m not sure who stole his heart first, Blanche or the girls. Loraine and Barbara soon started calling him “Daddy Joe”, and within a year Blanche and Joe married and he would claim the girls as his own.

A story told many times, about a visit Blanche and her sisters, Jessie and Peggy made to the sheep camp where Joe was tending a herd of sheep. They rode horseback to the camp, where Joe planned to cook dinner for them. A sudden winter storm forced them to spend the night at the sheep camp. As the story goes, they all took their shoes off and crawled into the one bed. Joe first, next to the canvas wall, then Blanche, Jessie and last Peggy. If one person turned they all had to turn and although Joe was in bed with three girls, he nearly froze his “back side,”pushed against the canvas wall of the sheep camp. The girls’ father arrived early the next morning to find Jo out doing chores and the girls fixing breakfast before they started home. To be continued...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

Below are the earliest photos I have of Blanche and Joes early days...These are after they were married.

Loraine, Daddy, George, Barbara

Grandma Parkin, Loraine, George, Barbara

Grampa Parkin, ???, Joe

Learning to ride, rope, drink & smoke...3º cloudy with sun breaks.

  Not long after Joe’s early sheep camp days in about 1924 his father remarried and Daddy found ways to stay with his uncles, out of reach of his father’s hand and his stepmother, Belle’s, tongue. Stories told to me, describe her as a hateful, whiny women who took her wrath out on the younger children. 

Joe started working part time on neighboring ranches with cattle and sheep. He helped at brandings, moving cattle, and learned to rope and soon could ride with the best of them. He learned quickly and proved himself to be a good worker, always volunteering for any job, whether it was shoveling manure, doing the daily milking or doctoring sheep with hoof rot. The long hours made it difficult to keep up with the older, more experienced cowhands, but he never quit until the horses were unsaddled, rubbed down, curried and fed. He was the last “ranch hand” to wash up, before heading to the cook shack for supper and then to the bunkhouse to fall into bed. 

A local cattle ranch hired ranch hands in the spring,  Joe signed on. Horseback riding came easy to him and he appeared to be at home in the saddle. Now his riding skills improved even more, seated in the saddle, straight as a poker, moving with the horse as they became one. His love of horses grew as he unsaddled the working horse each night, breathed in the smells of the horse, as it nuzzled his hands and neck in appreciation of the care it received. He brushed and curried it with loving hands. He liked the challenge of staying in the saddle of a bucking horse and began entering rodeos, trying all the events, except bull riding. His expertise was in bronc busting; both bare back and saddle bronc. He often made extra money riding in the small local rodeos and traveled from Utah to Pendleton, Oregon, one time, to ride in the famed “Pendleton Roundup”. A broken shoulder, after being thrown from a bucking horse, ended his rodeo career in the early thirties. 

Joe learned to smoke and drink at a young age, probably aided by his older uncles and the cowboys he patterned his life after. Alcohol gave him the courage to climb on yet another horse and take chances in the rodeo arena. It also relaxed him, so the ground seemed softer, when he landed, after the horse bucked him off. Cigarettes, easily hand made or cheap to buy, put them within reach for anyone who wanted to smoke. Smoking became very popular and soon even women smoked cigarettes in public places. The addictive properties of nicotine were unknown or ignored at the time. 

The “Prohibition Era” started in 1919 and ended in 1933. The people who fought for prohibition in 1919 believed it would help reduce crime and decrease poverty. However crime only increased and soon many organizations that had supported prohibition began a campaign for its repeal. In 1933 thus ended one of the most colorful periods of history, where homemade stills and bathtub gin were common in every community. to be continued... Hugs To all...OWAV:)

photos are few for this part of Joe's life,,,below are a few if his family. In yesterdays post,  the photo of the sheep camp, my mom, Blanche had written on the back of it, "Joe."

George Ashton, Joe's father

Top left is Idella Eastman Ashton (Joes Mother).

Idella's parents and siblings make up the rest of the photo. 

Sheep Camp was a lonely place. 7º today on BH...

 Sheep camps were lonely places usually only one man, one or more dogs, and one or two horses. The “camp” best described as a covered wagon or simply canvas stretched over a frame and set on wheels. Sheep camps had to be moved periodically, after the herder found new pastures for the sheep to graze. A sheepherder could go for months without seeing another person and often ate the same diet day after day.  

I imagine only the basics were included in Daddy’s camp. Most important was the rifle that stood near the doorway, then food; including flour, sugar, dry beans, bacon and canned foods. Packed away in a duffel bag was a change of clothing and a warm coat. In the summer he slept outside, under the stars, and in winter, a bunk with warm bedding was built into the sheep camp. 

Daddy was lucky this first time out, his father returned to relieve him after a week. I imagine the week he was alone. On the first night, he had fresh lamb chops, potatoes, and biscuits that his mother slipped into his saddlebags before he left the house. Daddy not only learned how to care for animals and brave the world alone, he also learned the basics of cooking. Through trial and error he taught himself how to make a pot of bacon and beans or lamb stew and sourdough biscuits. Mistakes had to be eaten or fed to the dogs, as food couldn’t be wasted. 

I’ll never forget when Daddy taught me to fry lamb chops and make gravy. When I was twelve Mom spent a week in Utah with my older sister, helping her after the birth of a new baby. Daddy and I “batched it”. Both Mom and I helped Daddy outside, doing chores, milking cows, feeding chickens and gathering the eggs. Mom would leave us, to finish up, while she started supper. So on our first night of “ batching it” Daddy sent me to the house early with instructions to fix supper. Lamb meat being a staple of our diet we planned to eat lamb chops for dinner. I quickly washed up, set the table, peeled potatoes, got frying pans out of the cupboard and had the chops ready to fry when Daddy got to the house. I remember our conversation going something like this.

  “Sister, I don’t smell anything cooking, what have you been doing?” 

 “I have everything ready to cook, but Daddy, I’ve never fried lamb chops or potatoes or made gravy.”  

 “Well little girl, it’s about time you learned.”  Daddy washed up and joined me in the kitchen. 

“Stand by the stove, next to me, so you can watch what I’m doing.”  I loved standing close to Daddy, his familiar smell of cigarettes and farm animals, not offensive to me, but comforting, as I felt safe near him. He was gentle and kind and wasn’t afraid to show affection. He loved all of us girls unconditionally and taught each of us, how to ride a horse, milk a cow, and drive a tractor. Always with a soft voice never yelling at us, he explained, then let us try our hand, then explained again, until he was satisfied that we had learned the lesson.

He put bacon drippings in the fry pans and turned up the heat. He sliced potatoes, with lightning speed, his hand gripping the knife. The potatoes sliced and the grease sizzling, he handed me the bowl of potatoes and said,  “ Now very carefully, so you don’t burn yourself, slide the potatoes into the hot grease.”  I did as I was told, then watched the potatoes cook, while Daddy floured the chops and placed them one by one into the hot grease in the other frying pan. They browned quickly, on one side, and Daddy picked up the fork to turn them. 

“Wait,” I said, “Let me turn them, I need the practice.”   Handing me the fork, he watched as I turned the chops. 

 “That’s my girl, perfect.”  He said. “Now turn the heat to low and cover the chops and let them cook.”  Then with his calloused hand on mine holding the spatula, together we turned the crispy brown potatoes to the other side. Fragrant smells filled the kitchen; I couldn’t believe that I was really learning to cook. But with his help I learned quickly and was sure I could do it myself the next time. “Della, put the chops on a platter and into the warming oven and I will show you how to make gravy.”  He poured out some of the grease, scraped the browned bits off the bottom and edges of the fry pan. “Okay, sprinkle flour into the grease with one hand while stirring with the other. When the flour and grease start to thicken, add milk and keep stirring, adding more milk until you have gravy.”  I did as told and soon we had a frying pan full of delicious milk gravy to cover biscuits, warming in the oven. As we dished up our plates and started to the table to eat, Daddy’s blue eyes twinkled as he said, “Tomorrow night I expect lamb chops cooking when I come in from the barn.”  “I’ll bet I can do that,” I said, and he hugged me tightly.  To be continued...Hugs to All...OWAV:)

Typical Sheep Camp

Joe Ashton comes into Blanches life...warmer 5º, 1 inch new snow.

Neighboring ranch hands/cowboys soon began visiting the Parkin ranch and the three lovely “girls” that lived there.  Jessie was the first to marry when she and Truman Porter exchanged vows in May of 1930.  Blanche, with her two little girls in tow said “I Do” on September 3 1930, as she and Joe Ashton stood before the Justice of the Peace. Peggy, several years younger, married Wayne Dickson in 1938.   

Good Morning, I've decided to pause Blanche's story, with the preceding paragraph and post some of Joe's story, as here is where they met and were soon to marry...You are going to hear about his childhood and growing up...It will be awhile before I get back to "Dumpster Diving Mama."

My father, Elmer Isaac Ashton was born in Woodruff, Utah on May 14,1907 to George and Idella (Eastman) Ashton. He was the fifth child in a family of seven, four girls and three boys. In his lifetime he was a sheepherder, cowboy, coal miner, farmer, and logger. More importantly, he was the man I called Daddy. 

 From the stories I’ve been told Daddy was a happy little boy and learned to whistle at a young age. His two uncles, Rawl and Marsh Eastman, nicknamed him “Whistlin’ Joe.”  His name became Joe Ashton and he signed Elmer only on legal documents. Rawl and Marsh looked out for him and became his role models, as Daddy spent time with them, and away from his sometimes abusive father. Daddy spoke highly of his mother, a kind, caring person, and a positive influence in his life. Her death when he was a teenager devastated him. An accident while riding in a buggy caused injuries confining her to a wheelchair, in the last years of her life. Even when in the wheelchair, she continued her job clerking at a small grocery store. Daddy told the story, of her adding the bill in her head, faster than an adding machine, seldom making a mistake. 

At the age of fourteen Daddy’s father sent him out to a sheep camp to herd sheep, while he attended to business matters. Daddy had no choice but to do as his father told him. He talked little about his childhood when I was growing up, but admitted to being afraid going to the camp alone. I can imagine that during the daylight hours he did quite well, keeping the herd together, and with the help of his dog, he brought them close to camp, where they bedded down for the night. As darkness fell, he would have felt brave, though surely on the inside he was as frightened as the lambs he had been sent to protect. Terrified at night with only a dog for company, he lay staring at the stars, listened to the howl of coyotes and prayed that all the sheep in his care, would still be alive come the next morning. To be continued...Hugs To All...OWAV:)

Joe and sister, Lorene

Blanche Starts a Family...Cloudy, cold, -8º

 Report from Barton Heights this morning...Rusty has the snow all plowed out around our house and also for some of our neighbors...We both shoveled and pushed snow from sidewalks, deck and paths yesterday...No more snow in the forecast, just below zero temperature in our winter wonderland.

(Continued) It was there, (Saltair) that Mom met and started dating Dwaine Fields. She accepted an engagement ring when she was 16 and set a wedding date. Her older brother intervened, trying to convince her she was too young to marry and was getting married for the wrong reasons.  “Blanche, you are very young,” he said. “If you postpone this marriage, I will fill a cedar chest for you, then you can have a better start in married life.”  

Years ago a common practice for young girls was to start making items for the “hope chest” that they received in their mid teens. The chest was filled with dishtowels, tablecloths, sheets, pillowcases and other common household necessities many of which had been embroidered on by the young girl herself.  The items in the cedar chest and any wedding gifts would give the couple most of the small items they needed to set up house keeping.

Blanche, anger in her voice replied, “No thank you, your offer comes too late: I don’t need your kindness.”  She married on November 25 1925, thinking she had found someone who loved and cherished her. 

Mr. Fields (Dwaine’s father) managed and worked a gold mine outside of Salt Lake City in Big Cottonwood Canyon and after Blanche and Bus married, he hired Mom to cook for his crew of miners. Mom, an excellent cook, having plenty of experience at home, now received a wage for the long hours she put in. Comments from the hired men such as, “Blanche, this is the best chicken and noodles I’ve ever eaten and please could I have just one more slice of your homemade bread,” were not uncommon. These comments boosted self worth but Mom’s marriage seemed doomed from the beginning. 

Over the next three years she gave birth to two daughters, Loraine and Barbara.  During this time she discovered the man she thought would love her forever was a womanizer, preferring other women to her. He soon moved out of the house leaving her with two girls to raise alone. Mom filed for divorce in 1929 shortly after Barbara was born. She and her two girls moved back to the family home, a ranch managed by her parents and their older sons.  Mom’s two younger sisters, Jessie and Peggy still lived at home, while Lavinia had married and moved away. To be continued...Hugs To All...OWAV:)

Reposting the following photo, I think Mom would have been close to 16 in this photo.

Jessie, Peggy and Blanche