James L. Hogan interview, October 12, 1975: transcript

UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 1 An Interview with James L. Hogan An Oral History Conducted by Mary B. Hogan Ralph Roske Oral History Project on Early Las Vegas Special Collections and Archives Oral History Research Center University Libraries University of Nevada, Las Vegas UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 2 © Ralph Roske Oral History Project on Early Las Vegas University of Nevada, Las Vegas, 2019 UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 3 The Oral History Research Center (OHRC) was formally established by the Board of Regents of the University of Nevada System in September 2003 as an entity of the UNLV University Libraries’ Special Collections Division. The OHRC conducts oral interviews with individuals who are selected for their ability to provide first-hand observations on a variety of historical topics in Las Vegas and Southern Nevada. The OHRC is also home to legacy oral history interviews conducted prior to its establishment including many conducted by UNLV History Professor Ralph Roske and his students. This legacy interview transcript received minimal editing, such as the elimination of fragments, false starts, and repetitions in order to enhance the reader's understanding of the material. All measures have been taken to preserve the style and language of the narrator. The interviewee/narrator was not involved in the editing process. UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 4 Abstract On October 12, 1975, collector Mary B. Hogan interviewed her father, farmer James L. Hogan (born April 6th, 1909 in Winton Place, Ohio) at the Hogan family home, in Las Vegas, Nevada. The interview covers the life of a Las Vegas old-timer. Mr. Hogan discusses moving to Las Vegas, early Las Vegas, Boulder Dam, and the Stewart Ranch. Colonel T. W. Miller and Vic Whittlesea are also mentioned. UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 5 The informant is James L. Hogan. The date is October 12th, 1975, at 6:45 P.M. The place is 2528 Sunrise Avenue, Las Vegas, Nevada. The collector is Mary Hogan, 2528 Sunrise Avenue, Las Vegas, Nevada. The project is Local History, Project Two, Oral Interview, Life of a Las Vegas Old-Timer. Good evening, Mr. Hogan, were you born in Southern Nevada? No. Mary Hogan? First of all, where the hell do we get this, Mr. Hogan stuff for the old man? (Laughs) This old kid was your daddy before you were born, you know. (Laughs) Now let’s get this business straight. If you’re going to interview this person, on any subject, best be calling your old man, daddy, pop, or anything else you can. But, for you, it’s not Mr. Hogan. Okay? Okay. (Laughs) Now were you born in Southern Nevada? No. Could you please tell us where you were born? I— And what your background was? I was born in Winton Place, Ohio. Winton Place is no longer in existence. It was—it would be an area now that would be part of the greater Cincinnati. That would be in Ohio. You were born in Winton Place, Ohio? Well, how did you get to Southern Nevada? And when did you come here? I first came to Southern Nevada and Las Vegas, was by accident. That was in 1929. In the summer of 1929, I got a job with the Santa Fe Railroad on their telegraph lines, as a ground UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 6 crewman at Flagstaff, Arizona. We were there only a couple of weeks when the foreman, D.C. Clark got fixed up on the time of the train door. We rode back and forth to our job on the telegraph line, and repaired them, wherever we found something that had to be done. One afternoon—one afternoon, we were about twelve miles out of Flagstaff on a putt-putt. A putt-putt was a gasoline powered handcar. Its top speed normally was, oh, thirty miles an hour. Anyway, this day the foreman checked the time and figured that we could get back to Flagstaff with time to spare. We were travelling at top speed, over the winding railroad track, and we were three miles out of Flagstaff, when we spotted the coal smoke from the cracked limited engine of the train door rear, I just pointed. Clark and the other man with it just sat there with their mouths open and big wide eyes. I suppose mine were the same but I don’t know. That train was close behind us; maybe a half mile. And they were running at top speed, which is sixty or seventy miles north. We didn’t have time to stop and remove the car. And we were going too fast to jump. The engineer of the train couldn’t see us because of the large pine trees. And we tried to get his attention by throwing the tools off and throwing our hats out. But he was moving up on it pretty fast. About a mile or a little better out of Flagstaff, the engineers saw us. I know he did everything he could to stop and still not kill one of his passengers. But he couldn’t stop the train. And he hit the putt-putt about forty-five to fifty miles an hour. And we just hung on. He got stopped about a half mile east of Flagstaff and we couldn’t get stopped for another mile and a half. The front axle had broken on the putt-putt. And that caused the breaks to be out of operation. Anyway, J. C. Clark was blamed by the Santa Fe section superintendent. And we were all laid off because we had no foreman. And the Bell Telephone company at Phoenix needed UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 7 help and they telegraphed that we could use the crew, at their job at the Grand Canyon. The hired us and we went to work at the Grand Canyon. We were there a short time, finished the job. Then we went to Seligman, and then to Peach Springs, and then to Las Vegas. It was the AT&T again, at Las Vegas. At that time, Las Vegas was hotter than the hades of hell. Well, dad, you said, you—it was an accident that you first came out to Las Vegas area. Had you ever had any dreams or childhood ambitions of coming out west when you were younger? No. I had no idea at all that I’d—I would ever live in the west. My hopes and ambitions, as a kid, were to be a doctor. A medical doctor. But I found that that was an impossible thing at that time, as I grew older. Because you didn’t break into the medical profession as a doctor, unless your daddy or your uncle was a doctor or your folks were extremely wealthy, or you had some politic pull, something of that sort. So I was planning to settle for an education in chemistry. You came to Las Vegas area in 1929, could you tell us a little bit about what Las Vegas was like, in the year 1929? Well, it was a railroad town. Most of the activities seemed to be at the old hotel across from the Ice House, which is still standing about four blocks south on Main Street from where the Plaza is now. That big ice plant was always busy. However, I wasn’t at Las Vegas long before the summer was over. I went east with hopes of—going to the University of Cincinnati to major in chemical engineering. (Unintelligible) to go to school, was almost unknown at that time. Anyway, I went alone and my saved money lasted. I worked, saved, and went some more. And that went on for some time. By 1934, Proctor &Gamble Soap Company offered me a $20 a week job as a junior chemist. I got hurt in an explosion in early 1935, and burn my wrist to the top of my hand. UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 8 Broken wrist and a few other things that I never was sure of. I was in the hospital for some time. Dropped from 190 pounds to 135. Sure was weak when I was told to leave the hospital. I walked about two blocks, stepped off the curb and my leg just wouldn’t hold me up. I stumbled into a car and fell over the hood. The man driving had noticed something went wrong. And he stopped his car before I fell over the hood. He got out and asked what was wrong. I told him that I just got out of the hospital. You know what he said? Mm-mm. “Boy, you better be careful you’d be back in it.” (Laughs) Then he gave me a ride to where I wanted to go. Yes. There was something called (unintelligible) insurance, at that great—great state of Ohio, at that time. The Prendergast, who were a Republican political machine of Pennsylvania, and Ohio, controlled the politics of the Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois. At that time, those generous souls, paid me $65 for recuperation. And required that I waived all future claims, so I could get that. Nothing I could do but take it. But that rotten Republican State of Ohio government, sure made a believer out of me. I was a Roosevelt man from then on. And I decided to go west and stay there. I found my way back to Nevada, where in a short time, I became acquainted with Neil McGill, and Colonel Tom Miller. Both McGill and Miller were from pioneer Nevada families. They were from the land barren families of the mid eighteen hundreds. McGill, from the McGill-Adams cattle ranch family. His father was a pioneer in the copper business of McGill and Ely. And the town was named in his memory. Miller was from the railroad—Miller Railroad family. And his father financed and built the old Tidewater Tonopah Railroad. UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 9 I recall reading something about Thomas W. Miller in the history books in connection with the Teapot Dome scandal. Could you please tell us something about that? Yes. This—I knew Colonel Miller over a period of twenty-five years, after my first acquaintance. Hell, longer than that. Nearly thirty-five years. But I’ve never known one man to be so blind as the Teapot Dome. As his connection with the Teapot Dome. Mr. Miller was one of the group who belonged to Yale—the old Yale Republican Club. This club protected its fellow members. And there were a man by the name of Fall, there was a man with the name of Doheny, who were also members of that group, as I recall. And they were sick men. They were men who couldn’t stand the rigors of a penitentiary term. Miller was a young man at that time, and rugged and robust. And took a great deal of blame. He was cleared of all blame at a later time. But he took a great deal of blame for the Teapot Dome Scandal, which should never had been blamed on him. However, he took it and he did accept without too much—too much of a fight. And this blame to protect some of the fellow members of that old Republican club. And he spent seven years in the Federal penitentiary for their crimes. At a later time, President Harding gave a full pardon to Mr. Miller. I think it was one of the finest acts that any man could have done. But his entire life was a life of charity to his fellow man and helping them where ever he could. Especially the—veterans. The veterans of wars who he felt at that time were not being given a fair shake. And he spent his entire fortune, which would have been something in the neighborhood of six million dollars, spent all of his fortune to take care of the needy veterans, from then to the time of his death. Mr. Miller died at the age of 86. And within a few weeks of his death, he was still trying to find some needy people who could, would need financial help. When he did finally pass on to UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 10 the other world, why, his fortune was less than a quarter of a million dollars. Now to get back to the Tidewater Tonopah Railroad, that was primarily built to haul horse from the Tonopah and Goldfield, through Death Valley, and to connect with the Santa Fe. This ore was to be moved from the oldie prospects. The old Odie prospector—there was a prospector in the early days by the name of Odie, who later became a senator. Senator for the state of Nevada. But he wanted to—he just wanted to prospect and mine, and he was glad to get out of the political field. And the last I saw him was in oh, about 1937, or ’38, and he was going across the Blue Wing valley in an old car, at that time, going back to another prospect. At any rate, the old elder Miller, bought the holdings of Odie, for about—just a little bit over two million dollars. And these ores were to be hauled. In which, they were. They were hauled on this railroad. But the railroad was never a successful venture. Tom often told me as we traveled near the route of the railroad that not one passenger ticket was ever sold on the railroad. But many prospectors and others who wanted to would just ride free of charge. The train would stop anyplace and pick up anyone who wanted to go to California or come back. Whichever, whichever happened to be the case. Now McGill was a graduate from Yale University. He was a post-graduate from the University of Cincinnati in civil engineering. And the University of California in mining engineering. Miller was a graduate Yale in engineering at law. And he had some studies in archeology, which stayed with him all of his life, in which his—were his—one of the things at which he loved to do. How did you come to meet Mr. Miller, and Mr. McGill? Well, there again. That’s one of the things that happens in one’s life. When the economy of the United States was changing in the mid-1930s, these two were a natural to be chosen by the political and the times, to help to organize a park service in Boulder City, and the grazing service UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 11 throughout the west. And this latter, this grazing service, was under the Taylor Grazing Act of 1934. This Taylor Grazing Act was proposed to—by Senator Taylor of Colorado. And proposed as a law, and it floundered. And it was picked up by a Senator McCarran of Nevada, who through his brilliant work did put this thing over to bring the cattle industry, to stabilize the cattle industry. And the cattle industry was in chaos at the time. They had just gone through a drought. And most of the cattlemen were going broke. And something had to be done because it is the big industry of the west. Miller and McGill were both very good friends of Senator McCarran. Miller worked with the Park Service in gathering the archaeal finds of the Black Canyon area, before it was filled by the waters of the Colorado, and formed Lake Mead. Ian Crews working for him, headed up by Chief Evans. Chief Evans was a Mohawk Indian. And he was a graduate in archaeology, and found the sloth caves of the canyon. I worked for both McGill and Miller. And when a person was needed to put the grazing district together inthis Clark, Lincoln County. Mr. Miller requested that I take the job. I returned to Las Vegas in 1941, and strengthened the old Searchlight grazing district, according to the regulations of the Taylor Grazing Act. And those regulations were to stabilize the livestock industry, and to bring the public lands to its highest use. What was happening in Las Vegas around 1941? Well, Boulder Dam was being built at that time, it was nearing completion. The original contract was completed, I believe. But there was a world of work still being put into the dam. The Dow Chemical Plant was being built at Henderson for the manufacturing of magnesium. This metal was light and reasonably tough, in order to be used for building aircrafts. This was found to be impractical after the metal was manufactured because the metal would burn and burn very hot. The plant was then reconverted to build magnesium fireballs, which were needed in World War UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 12 Two. These were the two major industries and the way—in the Las Vegas area at the time. And the way the Dow Chemical came to be here, a Dow Chemical—money. Came to be here was through the efforts of Colonel Tom Miller. Colonel Tom Miller was with the—he was part of the old DuPont family. And those were the money people of that day. And through his efforts he got them to invest in the Dow Chemical Company at Henderson. How did the people who worked at these plants get back and forth to work? The road to Henderson and Boulder City, was a two-lane gravel road at that time. And the accident rate was real high. It was difficult to keep—also it was difficult to keep food from spoiling in—‘cause the heat and ptomaine poisoning was common. I mentioned it because there was only one hospital here at the time. The old Las Vegas Hospital on Ninth Street. The Basic Hospital had been built but for whatever reason, it was not operating freighting at the time. And I might mention here that many of the people did not come to Las Vegas to live or for their housing. The road from here to Boulder City was lined with cardboard shelters. You pick up—people would pick up a cardboard box anyplace they could find it, or paper or old cans or whatever, and make something of a shade from the sun, and a (unintelligible) too. And everybody’s temper was always on edge, because the heat or the wind. And it was just a little bit rough going. There were three towns between here and Boulder City. Between here and Henderson, I guess. And these were called Texas City, Oklahoma Town, and Hooverville. Now Hooverville had the most cardboard shacks in it. It seemed that these towns were always feuding, especially Texas City and Oklahoma Town. And murder was quite common place. It seemed to be an everyday occurrence, someone getting in a fight and whoever lost it was (Laughs) well, that was something of a permanent lost. Was there any law enforcement or police force to control some of these crimes? UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 13 There was a police force as we know it today. Of course, there were no city police. It was all in the—on the sheriff’s department and sheriff’s and constable department. And while these were real good men, these were real good law enforcement officers. Some of the finest I’ve ever seen. Many of them were volunteers. When the going got real rough, why, you can bet on it that those boys would be right there doing their best. But there just weren’t enough of them, and they weren’t men who were schooled in this sort of thing. They had just—just fell into it, and did the best they could for the time. And were exceptionally—I do say, that they were exceptionally good lawmen. But most of the time you were on your own. You had to—ah, you didn’t call the cop every time some neighbor threatened to punch you in the nose. You just backed up and doubled up your dukes and dared him to try it. (Laughs) About how large was the town or pop—of Las Vegas in 1941? Mm. It was estimated to—I heard the estimate given many times, although I don’t know—it couldn’t be anything better than an estimate. Because people were coming and going so fast that—there was no way on earth to keep a count of people. However, it was estimated to be about eight thousand people. And most of those were construction boomers. I might say, that the better estimate at the time, was the old Sal Sagev at Main and Fremont. Where a meal cost a dollar and a dime. And the everyday place was the Silver Café operated by the Chinese restaurant people of Las Vegas. A meal there would be 0.85 cents or there about. And a cheaper place then, was the old 8-Ball, which finally picked up the name of (Unintelligible) and this—this restaurant advertised that they could feed—feed eight thousand people, as long as it was eight at a time. This (Unintelligible) place, this 8-Ball, was right at the beginning of Block 16. Oh, Block 16 was the start of the Red Light District. The Red Light District was a couple of blocks long and maybe a couple of blocks wide. And all the dregs of humanity were there. UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 14 Did you eat out often, at these restaurants? No. Not often. But—because at that time I—I had learned to live from a grub box and with a bed—bedroll. Not the modern day bedroll but it was a roll of tarpaulin and blankets that we used. And these were called (unintelligible) a (unintelligible) was part of our—part of our gear. It was a—the way we lived and with a—with a Dutch oven. But once in a while we’d go to the restaurants just for a change of—from the bacon and potato and carrot mulligan stew bit. And it would be a change of—a welcome change at times to go to the restaurant. Did you sleep outdoors most of the time, then? Most of the time. Most of the time. It was seldom that we slept in. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. We were—my gear was always in pretty good shape for that. You mentioned earlier something about the old Ice Plant. Could you tells us a little bit about what the old Ice Plant was? And how that tied in with Las Vegas? Yes. The old Ice Plant was on the Union Pacific Railroad. It was in the yards. And it was built to freeze large ice blocks. And eight blocks of ice were to be put in the refrigerator railroad cars (unintelligible). This was to keep the vegetables and the fruits from spoiling when they were shipped across country. The cars were called reefers. And I suppose that’s a—I suppose that was derived from refrigerator. I don’t know. But anyway, that is the name they had, reefers. They had on one end, the end that was moving forward. That would be the forward end, they would have a large compartment. Oh, it would be perhaps, the width of the car, and perhaps four feet—four feet wide. And deep enough to hold these large chunks of ice. The large chunks of ice would weigh about three hundred pounds. And when they would put this ice in the—in the, this compartment, then the screen was there, to where as they drove—as the engine was pulling the car, the air would flow over the ice, and keep the fruits and the UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 15 vegetables from spoiling. But the railroad did hire quite a large number of people to work at these plants and the load the ice in these box cars. The railroad owned most of the town at that time. They owned the water system. They later sold that water system. They sold all their interest in it to the Las Vegas Valley Water Company. Some of the main water springs at that time were the springs across from the location of the Elks Club day, on the Las Vegas Boulevard North, which was formally called Fifth Street. Now the railroad also owned many of the buildings on— In old Las Vegas, old Las Vegas would be about four to five blocks south of, where the Plaza is, today. And about three blocks over, and that was the biggest port with the town. Do you remember anything about the Old Ranch, formally the Stewart Ranch, known as the Mormon Fort? If you do, I mean did you—? (Tape one ends) Okay. Go ahead. Well, I remember the—the old Stewart Ranch best as the old Stewart Ranch. The—while I didn’t know that it was the early Mormon Fort at the time of the civil war when the Mormon Army, the volunteer Mormon Army were stationed, part of it was stationed here to protect the gold and silver routes. So the—for the union side. Why, this was not—while it was known, it wasn’t—too much attention wasn’t paid to it. At that time until the monuments were built. And then, after that, why everybody knew that it had been the old Mormon Fort. But the (unintelligible) Stewart and his family ran that ranch until the town grew around him. And then they transferred their cattle to their railroad valley holdings in Lincoln County. (Unintelligible) Stewart and his—his boys, were just the old rancher type. They were—they were cowmen. Will was recently killed in a car wreck right here in Las Vegas. And some of the family now own and operate the old Winterwood Ranch in eastern Las Vegas. Or whatever is left of the old Winterwood Ranch. This UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 16 is also fast being built up into homes or whatever. I think there is a golf course out there, and God knows what else. How well did you know the Stewart family, personally? Oh, I knew them very well. Often it—because they were stock men, I had many things to do with their family, and the way of their grazing rights, and grazing privileges, and their ranch whatever was needed on the ranch to help the men stabilize their allotments and that sort of thing. There were three branches of the Stewart family, and this list was only one of them. But I knew all three of them very well. Did they ever invite you over for dinner at their house? Well, that wasn’t a thing of that day. That you—you weren’t invited if, seemed like it was just, if you just happened to be there, or whatever, why, you were invited then. But it wasn’t made into a formal thing. It was just one of those things of the day at that particular time, that if you were around you didn’t need an invitation. You’d just—you just went in and have dinner with them. And if they came to your place, you did the same thing. Were you acquainted with any other early pioneer families? Oh yes. See, many of them. But one of the early pioneer Mormon families here in this, in this area was the Lamb family. Their ranch was—their ranch base, I would—I’d rather call it, a ranch base, I believe—was on the Westside of the railroad tracks. They had a fine old house over there. But it would be difficult to find the exact location of this—at this time. Because the whole area now is dotted with junk car lots. An early feud, there was an early feud between the Lamb family and the Stewart family. And one or the other of them, I’ve forgotten which, was killed in a fight. And the women of the Stewart family, and the women of the Lamb family, got together and decided that, that would stop. And the Lamb family moved to Alamo and settled there. Then UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 17 later things were patched up, and the (unintelligible) Stewart ranch of the Stewart family (unintelligible) Have you lived in Las Vegas area continuously since 1941? Oh no. No. In 1942, I left to—left Las Vegas to serve in the military, which I did until 1946. And in 1946, I moved back to Nevada, and was again stationed in the Las Vegas area. Were you married, at this time? When I moved back, yes, I had married. Married my wife. She was a girl from Indiana, from Dover, Indiana. And we moved here, and have moved, have lived here, since that time. All of the family were born here—our five children. And we have raised them here. Where did you first live when you moved to Las Vegas with your wife? Dwellings were hard to find. Building materials were expensive for that day, and were very hard to get. Because the ration, which the government had imposed because of the wartime needs of the military, and therefore there was not—housing was just quite difficult to find. And of course, the days of living in the bedrollthey were, for the most of the time of war. So, we did have the opportunity to stay in an old barracks. An old barracks, which the grazing service had at the lower end of town, which is about where the— Mm. National Guard. Where the Army, the National Guard Army, used to be. That was just about in that area. Between there and the Sunrise Acres School. A lot of materials were there, which belonged to the grazing service, which had been put in storage and one of my jobs was to be certain that this—materials didn’t walk off. Because we did need it for the range improvement program. We moved into this barracks of the thirteen room barracks. The doors and windows were wide open at all times. And that didn’t seem to be too much of a problem at all for nobody at that time UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 18 seemed to bother things, so—too much. But we did live in this thirteen room barracks. We haven’t lived in that big of a house since. And we don’t want to ever live in that (Laughs) under those conditions again. (Laughs) I don’t think, Mrs. Hogan would like it. (Laughs) How long did you live in this thirteen room barracks? Well, we lived there until we got to the point where we could find a place that we liked and get building materials. And that’s the place where we are at now. But we did live there about two and a half years. And then we found this place and bought materials, and then, built the house around the little place that was here, and after building the house around it, we tore the old house down, inside the new house, and carried it out the front door. (Laughs) And (Laughs) took it to the dump. (Laughs) So you did most of the building yourself? Most of the building, yes. I did most of the building between myself and Mrs. Hogan, we did most of that ourselves, when time would permit. Do you remember anything about the early aboveground atomic tests? Oh yes. Yes. We—when these tests were first made, the atomic test was first made, it seemed that not too much was known on what would happen. And we had built our house and had it plastered, had it newly plastered, and all that sort of thing, when this—when the first heavy blast was set off at the Frenchman Flat. The house took quite a shaking. And the plaster would pop here and there and someplace else. And it did for a year and a half after that. But at that time it was recognized by the government that there was a lot of damage done to business houses and to UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 19 homes. And my concern was not the plaster popping. That was easy enough to patch. But my concern was that the foundation would have been cracked. And if it had been cracked and hurt, why, it’s almost certain that the house would eventually cave in, one side or the other. But at any rate, the federal government did recognize how much damage—that a great deal of damage had been done and it—their representative asked that anyone who felt they had damage to report it. And they would send an appraiser out to check the damage and see if it really was—had happened. And if that was the case, they would have it repaired. So I waited until the last, about the last day, and finally I decided that it was—damage was just more than it should have been. So I put in my claim, also, and a little bit a shame to do it. But the person who was taking care of this, the clerk said, “Well now, don’t you feel—don’t feel bad about that. Look at these books I got.” And she had nine books. There were claims for damage done. And these books were, oh, maybe as much as an inch thick. And they had names and addresses and—on each page of the damage done to the—from many different places. Anyway, the appraiser came out and he took my appraisal of the damage and he said that there’d be no damage to the foundation, not to be worried about that. However, he would send a digger around and they would prove to me that there was no underground damage, at all, which they did. And then, they offered to either take the money for—take a check for the damage that was done on the walls and so forth. Or they would send someone out to fix it. Now these boys were quite busy, in repairing the damage. And we didn’t know when they’d get to it. So they gave me a check right on the spot. And I had the house repaired at a later time. Do you remember the visits of any of the presidents or other important people in Las Vegas, such as President Roosevelt or Hoover? UNLV University Libraries James L. Hogan 20 No. I don’t remember Hoover’s. Don’t remember when President Hoover came in. He came in for dedication of the dam. But I don’t remember just when his visit was. I heard a lot of talk about it. But that was about as much as I can say. But I do very well remember President Roosevelt’s visit. President Roosevelt was the man who put the NRA together. National Recovery Act, it was called. That was trying to stop the problems of the Great Depression, which we had. And many things of course tied into that National Recovery Act, and one of them was the WPA, Works Progress Administration. This Works Progress Administration, it was a make work thing, to pay, give people a few dollars to live on, and keep down bigger troubles. And that was one of the main reasons for it. Well, the WPA, in this part of the world, was looking (unintelligible) who were looking for things to do. And they had built, they were building the road to La Madre Mountain. La Madre Mountain is not too far out of Las Vegas in the Spring Mountain range, and this side of the—of Mount Charleston. The plan was to go by the old—what we call the old Harris Ranch now. Going up through Kyle Canyon, back to the old Harris Ranch, taking off the old Harris Ranch Road. And go up to the pass, which was La Madre. And then, back to the La Madre Spring down through Lovell Canyon, where they—the, Billy’s Camp was there, just a few years ago. This La Madre Road was a very fine road. It was very well built and is stand up today. It was a very good job. However, a man by the name of Pittman, Key Pittman owned some—had bought a lot of land in his earlier days. That was before he was a senator. He had bought these lands and wherever he found them. And it was something of a hobby with him. Land was not very expensive at the time. He was fairly well to do. And that was his way of spending—sp