1926 — Twilight on the River

March of 1926, my mother suffered a stroke. It left her unable to move or speak, her world narrowed to the four walls that surrounded her bed. Leland's health began to falter soon after, while my dear mother held on, fragile but determined, as if sheer will might keep her a step away from death’s door.

Edna kept me apprised of the worsening situation while I went on with life—such as it was in the shrinking community of Ulysses. Miners came and went but the ranchers stayed, stubborn as the sage. I kept to my routines, the days marked by the rise and fall of Indian creek and the small comings and goings that tied us together.

At the beginning of April I beamed when I saw that Julia and Myron Barton had scored high markings in the county-wide spelling bee and earned a certificate.

Before April ended I headed down to Shoup to help Alta with her brood of sick chicks so she could tend to business. She’d been running the boarding house[1] for a while now, keeping the beds filled and the stove going for whoever passed through—miners between jobs, fishermen chasing the spring run, or hunters headed for the high country. When three of her own—Theo, Myron, and Peter—came down sick, the cooking and cleaning for paying guests didn’t stop, so I took over the mothering part.[2]

One evening, not long after I’d settled them for the evening, Tom Christensen showed up. He’d just come back from Arizona with a pack full of curiosities—arrowheads, potsherds and other desert finds—and a grin like he’d been saving for months.[3]

Tom had wandered downriver about 1920 and never really stopped wandering, moving from one creek to the next. Folks called him Hacksaw Tom for his tale about sawing his way out of a Montana jail, though I told Alta not to believe it. He had a hatband made from a rattlesnake skin and a habit of carrying live ones in his shirt to scare the daylights out of people. It worked. He had a love of a taxidermy and charged tourists to see his collections. Odd as he was, he could strike a fine tune on anything with strings and never missed a dance.

That night, after his stories had run their course, I stepped out into the chill and walked down to the Pine Creek rapids. The air was sharp, the sky swept clean, and the moon came over the canyon, turning night to day. Water thundered and boiled in that narrow river drop, crashing over mighty boulders, white spray leaping like ghosts in the light. I’d made that walk many springs before—drawn by the sound as much as the sight—and each time it felt like the season wasn’t truly turned until I stood there in the cold, letting the moonlight and the roar wash over me. The whole earth seemed to breathe in time with that wild water, and for a little while, I could, too.

On May 16th, my granddaughter Alta made the front page when she won the first Butte Charleston Contest at the Rialto Theatre. A pupil of the Coleman Dancing Studio, she had just completed a teacher’s course in all branches of dancing and was now an instructor. There are more contests ahead of her, but for now she holds the title of Butte’s Theatrical Charleston Champion.[4]

In June, Alta made it official and bought the boarding house and other abandoned buildings in Shoup.[5] Billy Jr., Madge and eleven year old Billie III came for the promised visit intending to stay in Idaho. I was not disappointed.

Idaho Recorder, July 16, 1926

SHOUP

Mr. Jamison, the mining man, is stopping with H. F. Haynes this week.

Mrs. Alta Barton was surprised by a visit from her brother, Billy Taylor and wife, from California last week.

Mr. and Mrs. Charles Twining had as guests for the Fourth the following: Mr. and Mrs. J. R. Hibbs and two sons, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Booth and family, T. M. Christensen and Clay Hall.

P. H. Kane has completed his work on the Cenis Copper mine on Spring creek and will take up his work on the forest road this week.

Mrs. Harry Adams and Mrs. W. H. Lund were in Shoup visiting with Mrs. Charles Twining and J. R. Hibbs and family.

Joe Scobie has arrived on Pine creek this week with his sheep.

The new mail contractor took charge of his route July 1, driving a new Dodge car.

W. B. Fowler of Salmon was a visitor in Shoup this week.

Everett Vance and Everett Hill passed through Shoup on their way to Big Creek to do some mining work this week.

Miss Edna Barton arrived in Shoup Wednesday on a visit to her mother.

The summer’s news read like most any other—half work, half weather, and a few bits you could only get in a canyon like ours. On July 24, the Twinings over in Shoup welcomed a baby girl, Doris Edna. That makes one more future hay-bucker in the making, though her mama might say otherwise.

Neal Poyner and Jesse Rutledge headed out August 5 to make the forestry circuit. They expect to be gone three weeks, which is three weeks for their wives to catch up on things without muddy boots in the doorway.

The hay crews—what there were of them—worked under skies so clear it almost made you believe the weather meant to be kind. Fred Bevan and N.O. Marsing stacked their second crop in A-1 condition. If the Lord saw fit to send such weather every year, no one would have cause to complain.

Frank Kirkham is hobbling around after his horse went down under him coming home from a fire. Says it was the horse’s fault, though I expect the horse has his own version.

The Rowes came up from Salmon for a weekend on the riverbanks, then Chester went back to his job at Greene’s grocery. And wouldn’t you know, “enterprising citizens” are at it again, talking up a daily mail. Charles Twining has a petition going and from the sound of it every man and daughter in the canyon signed.

The road crew has moved on to the Vestal ranch. We had a fine rain—enough to make both beast and man give thanks—and not a whisper from any vote-seekers. Looks like the canyon is content to keep its own counsel this election year.

Billy was over at Mackay, helping with the new mill at the Livingston mine, and stopped in camp for a short spell before heading back. W.W. Smith’s strawberries are the talk of the gardens—two hundred ever-bearers since the first of August, enough to keep two families in berries every day and still have jars put up for winter. They say Kellogg’s Jewel is best in size, color, and taste. I’ll take their word for it, though I’d never turn down the chance to check for myself.[6]

When my sister, Edna Chamberlin’s letter arrived in October, I opened it expecting to hear that mother’s suffering was over, and Edna’s as well, for that matter. She’d had so much fall on her shoulders through the years, the deaths of two sons, then her husband.

Sumol, California Oct 18, 1926

Dear Annie,

Once more, I write, to tell you of the physical conditions of your mother, and of your brother, Leland.

Mother has lain in bed nearly helpless, since the last of March. All these seven months, I have been doing a professional nurse's work besides the working and regular housekeeping paying out of my small income; a half of mother's support. And through, all the four years and seven months I have been here I have seen Leland breaking more and more in health, till, in Sept. he had to give up.

He promised Jen he would go to a hospital, and on Mon. Sept 27, Al came and took Leland in his good car, but on the way, Leland persuaded Al to take him to his home in San Fransisco, and there he has been, ever since, a desperately sick man. Jen and Al have had consultations of Drs. and have been up night and day, waiting upon him. Jen had to give up her good government job.

Al came a few minutes last evening but from all he could tell me, I should think Leland's recovery doubtful, and I know in reason, he will never be able to work.

So that you see, now mothers entire support, is depending upon me. And you know I have a young H.S. girl to provide for. So, with all this, I am asking you if you will contribute ten, or eight or even five dollars per month, toward mother's support? I do hope you may see it right. For why should so much fall on me? And won't you please kindly answer this letter as soon as you receive it?

Now to change the subject, Ed Butler came to see me in Sept. He resides in Seattle, but was returning from a trip to Boston to see Cora.

Are you still contemplating a residence in California in the near future? I must close now, but do let me hear from you.

With Love, sister Edna 

When I finished reading the letter I sat a while turning over her words. The tone was as steady as her hand but the weight she carried was plain enough—Mother bedridden since March, Leland sick in San Francisco and the household expenses squarely on her shoulders. She asked if I might send even five dollars a month.

A pittance if you had it to spare. I didn’t, not just then. Billy was working out which meant there was no reaching into his pocket and I was down to a few dollars myself. I had a year’s worth of vegetables and fruit canned and stacked in the larder and plenty of eggs besides—but that’s not the same as ready cash. A pantry can keep you through the winter but it won’t pay a bill.

I went to the bureau and opened the little velvet case. Inside lay my Waltham wrist watch. I didn’t want to part with it but I could send it to Edna Barton as collateral until I scraped together the money. Then I sat down to write my granddaughter—the one with a steady job that paid in wages.

Mrs. W.E. Taylor

Ulysses, Idaho

10-20-26

Dear Edna:

There are volumes to write but cannot answer your letter for several days, will explain when I write again. The enclosed from your Aunt Edna reveals a state of affairs I had not dreamed of.

If you can send her the pittance she asks for, I will forward my Waltham wrist watch to you by return mail. I do not want to dispose of it but - keep it and use it until I redeem it - with the money.

Your Aunt Edna is a widow your uncle Will Chamberlain died while I was in Cal. Edna owns the home near Sacramento which she rents. The home she is in at Sumol belongs to my mother and this also will be hers, but repairs, taxes, water and lights, together with Dr.'s bills and other expenses of months of illness has brought on the condition she reveals.

When my father died my mother went to keep house for Lee who is single, he is a plumber and when I was there he was in good health and all went "merry as a marriage bell".

I am ashamed to write on these snippy little sheets of paper, but I was presented with a dry goods box full of it last xmas and must use it - until I can do better.

Billy Jr writes that they have taken Billie III out of the Salmon school and are sending her to school in Clayton Id where they think she is doing better.

Mrs. Haynes is in the hospital was taken out in a bed on a truck. Salmon people hold out hopes, but every one thinks she now has cancer of the intestines. Let me hear from you.

With love from all

In November, I decided to write a story from my earliest year downriver and when it appeared in the newspaper, I gave the editor all rights reserved to the piece. It’s another story I’ve told you before, so no need to rehash the history of Camp Dynamo of ’86, but I enjoyed writing it and seeing it appear on the first page of the Idaho Recorder.[7]

I turned seventy that year, though I didn’t much like to dwell on the number. There was still too much to do—holiday gatherings to attend, the children’s Christmas program in Shoup to clap for, a dance to keep the fiddles singing, and a New Year’s party to welcome whatever lay ahead. Yet now and then, in the quieter hours, I could feel the years in my bones. Still, 1926 had given me enough laughter, work and company to keep my heart young. With my children and most of my grandchildren close enough to touch, the river’s song always in my ears—I meant to hold to that as long as the current carried me.

NOTES

[1] Idaho Recorder, January 8, 1926

[2] Idaho Recorder, April 23, 1926

[3] Idaho Recorder, April 23, 1926

[4] Idaho Recorder, May 21, 1926, p. 1.

[5] Idaho Recorder, June 25, 1926

[6] Idaho Recorder, September 3, 1925

[7] Idaho Recorder, November 26, 1926; it is also published in Chapter 5, “Hell Just Over the Hill, Camp Dynamo of ’86.” It was also republished in the Commemorative Booklet, “Camp History” and a gallery of the booklet can be found in the appendix.