It was 1931 - the beginning of the Great Depression. I was 8 years old. We lived in Lima, Ohio, where Dad worked for the Post Office. He had lost his job. Not good timing.
I was the 5th of 7 kids, including twin 1 year old boys. For whatever reason, the prospects out West looked better than Lima. There were mouths to feed. Joe was 16, Marg 14, Ted 12, Bill 10, me 8, and Keith and Bruce were 1.
Mother's only requirement was that we move to a town with a University. They had two kids approaching college age, and Mother wanted us to be educated. Mother had gone to Normal School for two years, then taught 4th grade. (Probably til she was married).
Why we moved to Oregon in particular is a mystery to me. It may have been the prospects of a job in shipping somehow. Dad had left home at 16, in humiliation over his parent’s divorce. He lied about his age, and joined the Navy. He was on leave from the Navy, visiting his family, when he met my Mother at church. (Oddly, I met MY husband, Bob, at church, as well). They married. Then his sister, Lenore, married Mother's brother, Walter. Brother and sister married sister and brother.
I remember we sold most everything we owned. Actually we gave most of it away. No one had money, and those that did held tight. We had a two story house full of furniture - chests, couches, etc but Mother was most upset having to leave her Mother’s piano. But it all had to go.
Dad scraped together everything he could and bought a 7 passenger Cadillac. There were a lot of us to transport. It had two bench seats, plus two jump seats in the back. The plan was to sell it when we got to Oregon, for seed money to start our lives. The twins were one, and we traded turns holding them on our laps. When we stopped, they slept in a Kiddee Koop. I remember needing to lie on the ground, and rock the koop with my foot, to lull them to sleep. I also remember how angry brother Joe became because Dad wouldn’t let him drive on the trip.
We spent a few weeks in travel. Rethinking our route, I suspect my parents, who had never travelled, took the opportunity to see America as we did not go the short route. Gas was cheap. The road conditions were probably a main concern, as there were very few cross country roads in existence, and they were in poor condition. The cost was minimal, as we camped the whole way, and ate lots of fish. We msut have also eaten lots of rice, as I can barely stomach it now. But for me, the trip was a wonderful adventure.
We started heading North, and may have stopped in Cleveland first, to say goodbye to Aunt Helen and Uncle Tommy (E.L. Thomas). Tommy was a doctor there, and Helen was a nurse. (That may have been a different trip, though). We also may have gone to Springfield to say goodbye to Lenore, Walter and my cousin Ruth, although, again, we visited them often, so maybe not on this trip.
I remember heading North, and stopping in Minnesota so Dad could fish. I thought he just liked fishing, but looking back, it was undoubtedly so we could eat. Mother cooked on a green Coleman stove, and had a pot with triangular inserts. In later years, Ted had kept the pot and said it was the handiest cooking implement he had!
We travelled through Minneapolis to visit our Grandfather’s sister, I believe Bertha. Then we passed through Chicago, where I remember seeing the buildings from the World’s Fair. We had come from a city with no big buildings. (Chicago hosted the fair in 1893, then again in 1933, so this was either old buildings, or in preparation for ’33. Read Devil in the White City for some visuals).
We towed a trailer with all our remaining possessions. The roads then were terrible, and I remember we took one corner that was not banked properly and our trailer overturned, ruining what we had brought. In my 8 year old mind, our biggest loss was our entire box of Christmas decorations - spread across the road. (Later, what pulled us out of the depression was Roosevelt’s resolve to build our national road system through the WPA, from 1935 through 1943. This trip showed me just how much that was needed.)
We headed East through the Badlands of South Dakota. I don’t know if that was the current National Park, but the word badlands still sticks in my mind. I remember the huge rock outcroppings, which I would say were “desolate”, although I didn’t know that word at the time.
I remember seeing Mt Rushmore, so again, we must have taken a circuitous route to Oregon, as it is North of Badlands. The giant faces were huge and I remember being told to not climb!
From there we headed South to Yellowstone National Park. I remember being in Custer, Montana, just SW of Billings. Mother wanted to stop, as it was getting dark. But Dad thought we could make it into Yellowstone, so we drove on. Their argument made that town stick in my mind.
In Yellowstone we stayed in a real cabin. There were no motor lodges, or hotels then, so this was a huge treat after camping our way across America. My most vivid memory was in the morning. Over the megaphone came “Stay in your cabin. Do not come out. There is a bear under your porch.” So we stayed put! We must have stayed a few days, as I remember seeing Old Faithful spout, and being scolded to keep my shoes on to protect me from the hot mud.
It was in Yellowstone that Ted developed “Rocky Mountain Fever”. I remember it was an allergy type illness, and Ted went on to have severe allergies his whole life, and eventually died at 65 from complications.
When we reached the Dalles, in Oregon, it was beautiful. We again camped, and I can remember sneaking out early in the morning to walk and jump alone along the rocks and boulders at the Columbia River’s edge, then becoming fearful as it seemed so dangerous.
Eventually we arrived in Eugene. There was heavy smoke in the air, which was typical, we were told, as the forest burned regularly. We must have travelled in summer.
Dad’s plan of selling the Cadillac didn’t work. It needed tires, which we didn’t have money for. No one had any money, and I believe he had to simply give it away. If he sold it, it was for next to nothing.
We rented a two story craftsman bungalow house on Garden Avenue with lots of rooms. It was the depression and rent was cheap. We could go out back and cross the Millrace (which has become historically significant) on a small bridge, then cross a fruit orchard of plums, apples, peaches and pears to get to the Willamette River. There was a day bed in the back which I remember convalescing in after getting poison oak so bad my eyes swelled shut, and they inserted straws in my nose so I could breathe.
I learned to swim in the Millrace. “Just jump in and raise your arm. You’ll catch a limb as it goes by”, was the advise from Ted and Bill. I guess it worked, as I am here to tell the tale.
I remember our first Christmas as the best ever. Remember, our decorations smashed on the road? Ted and Bill got to work making stars out of the milk bottle lids - red foil on one side, and silver on the other. Our tree was beautiful with twinkly foil stars.
I remember we belonged to a church, and Ted and Bill were in plays. We were all three in the “The Shooting of Dan McGrew”. I don’t remember the services but I remember Adrian Martin the play director.
I also remember going to William's Bakery for their day-old breads and treats. (I googled it, barely believing this 90 year old could remember the nameof the bakery so well, and lo and behold there is still is! A different locaiton, but still there.)
Once in Oregon, Dad had to resort to manual labor. Dad, Margaret and Joe got jobs picking hops. Dad later worked digging trenches, maybe through the WPA. I remember he was digging ditches at the school where Marg and Joe attended, and they were humiliated when they saw him one day. “Never make fun of your father”, Mother would say. “He is willing to work.”
Brother Joe worked selling Fuller Brushes door to door, and Margaret got a job at a Hardware store. Ted and Bill had paper routes. I would take their canvas newspaper bags and fill them with apples from the orchards.
Later, Dad went to Seattle to find work, and talked his way into a job as a Quartermaster for the Alaska Steamship Company. I can’t imagine he really had experience, but he got the job. (Quartermaster could have different meanings, but seems to be the one in charge of maps, or uniforms, or some of the supplies.) I still have postcards he sent us from Alaska - Seward, Anchorage and a Russian Port. He was gone for long stretches of time, leaving Mother to raise the family.
We stayed in Eugene for 4 years, and it was such a happy time for me. I began in 4th grade, and completed 7th grade there. My 8th grade began in Seattle, which will have to be the next story.
This story is from my Mom, Nancy Raab, as she remembers her life. By Sally Dunbar
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