Transcript of interview with Helen H. Holmes by Marilyn Swanson, February 12, 1975

UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes i An Interview with Helen Holmes An Oral History Conducted by Marilyn Swanson 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 Helen Holmes ii © Ralph Roske Oral History Project on Early Las Vegas University of Nevada, Las Vegas, 2019 UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes iii 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 Helen Holmes iv Abstract On February 12, 1975, collector Marilyn Swanson interviewed housewife, Mrs. Helen H. Holmes (born Helen Hanson on February 24th, 1906, in Harrison, Nebraska) in her home in Boulder City, Nevada. This interview covers the social, economic, and environmental changes that occurred in Boulder City from 1931 to 1975. Mrs. Holmes also discusses home and family life in Nevada. UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 1 (Audio begins midsentence) Holmes. The wife of Neil Holmes. The date is February 12th, 1975, at about ten thirty in the morning. The place we are taping is 640 California Avenue, Mrs. Holmes’ home, in Boulder City, Nevada. The collector is Marilyn Swanson. 612 Avenue G, Boulder City. The project is Local History Project of the Boulder City Branch American Association of University Women. We are taping recollections of an early resident of Boulder City. Mrs. Holmes where were you born? I was born in Harrison, Nebraska, in 1906. And you grew up there in Harrison then, and went to school there? Yes. We, I had all my formal education in Nebraska. And all our family did. Because there were no schools close in Wyoming where we lived. In other words, you were living across the line in Wyoming? My dad had homesteaded in this area before the turn of the century. He was working on a section and it had come out from the east. I believe it was in Missouri. And of course, they were taking all the advantages of settling in that area. So several members of his family homesteaded. Yes. And he built this ranch home that we still can go to see, a few miles north of Van Tassell, Wyoming—and built a huge home and raised a big family. But you went into Harrison then—Nebraska, during the school year? We had to move twice a year. We’d move from Wyoming, or into Nebraska from Wyoming, where there was a ranch home. And in Nebraska was a homestead. And there was a school about three miles—and all of the family went to school at this place in Nebraska, our full eight years. Then, we went on in to Harrison to high school. And that is where I graduated in 1924. UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 2 Oh wow. And you had told me that you had taught schools and what sort of normal education you had. Today, it will sound real strange. When I graduated from high school, although they did get—have normal training, and teachers training, in high school—I went to (Unintelligible) Normal for eight weeks, and taught school the following fall. But the schools were so small and they were rural schools that sometimes there would only be one or two families that would be attending. So when I think back I wondered how I could have given them any knowledge at all. However I did finally make seven years of teaching. So. (Laughs) I must have done satisfactorily but the children all at that time attended rural schools. Mm-hmm. Where’d you meet your husband, then? Well. That was the first year I taught school. He had been working at Guernsey Dam, and I happen to be teaching at his sister’s home, south of Lusk. And he came home one time and—or to her house rather, and that’s where I met him. And then, course we weren’t married till a number of years later. When did you leave Wyoming, then? We left Wyoming on March—well, we arrived here on March the 16th. So it would be three days before that. And I had taught that year. Fact is—we had been married in 1931 at—1920, yes. Not. On the 29th 1930 in Hot Springs, South Dakota. And I taught that year because on Saturday they were minus a teacher and they came and asked me if I’d fill in. It worked out—it was better I did or we wouldn’t had anything at all to come down here on, or to eat. Because that was when my husband was short of work. It was when the Depression was very bad. And so we had to give up our apartment even though I was teaching and we just moved our things down to my folks. UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 3 Because I was out teaching and boarding there. So really it was in no use to keep our apartment, anyway. So it’s March the 16th, 1931, when we arrived here in Boulder City. I understand you came to Boulder because you were assured of a job? My husband—two weeks before school was out, came to, over one evening and informed me that he had had a letter from Chelsen, who was a master mechanic at Guernsey—he had written to Frank Crowe who was on that job too, if there was any chance he would have a job if he came to Boulder Dam at that time. So the letter stated that there would be a job waiting for him when he got here. Well, there was quite an uproar in our house that night. My mother was—and everyone thought to leave and come to a place and go so far away, it seemed many, many more miles than we think today. And we—he waited for two weeks then, before we left. Because I had just two weeks of school left. But coming out, even though each place that we stopped for gas with our 1929 Ford, which had all our belongings, everyone, “Oh, why are you going there. It will be so hot. And there’ll be nothing but Mexicans and Negroes. You won’t be able to stand it.” So if we didn’t tell them that we had a job, or if we just laughed to ourselves—I don’t recall, except it was like a honeymoon trip. Because we had the promise of a job. And we were young. We had been married less than a year. So we were looking forward to a great experience. Never realizing that when he’d start work the next day on March the 17th that he would work until 1969, December the 31st, here. And of course, it changed from Boulder Dam to Hoover Dam. But it just sounds so much better to say Boulder Dam. (Laughs) Because that’s the way it was when we arrived. Mm-hmm. If you arrived in March, what was the weather like and where did you go first? Well. The weather—it was May, May the 16th. UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 4 Oh, May, excuse me. And— Mm-hmm. The weather was warm but it wasn’t drastically hot. And driving down to the lake it seemed like surely they couldn’t build a dam on such a little narrow stream. However, at—we later found out that it was about eight miles from the top of the hill to the water. And when we arrived down there, there was nothing but tents, and one building that had been built for the man that was sort of in charge of the men going to work. But the people would maybe be there a few days and gone. But everyone lived in tents. So there were about five hundred tents there. But there was some that didn’t even really have a tent. And a lot of them with the little children you wondered how we survived. But thinking back at first it didn’t seem terrible. You were just so happy to have a job. Let’s orient ourselves a minute. When you came from Wyoming, did you drive what we call Salt Lake Highway now, down to Las Vegas? Yes. And—did you stay overnight in Las Vegas and then come out to the Boulder are, or—or? You know, where did you—how did you know where to go? (Laughs) (Laughs) Well, I don’t remember—even about reading about roadmaps, at that time. But more than likely, my husband had routed our way on—before we left. And we stayed in Santa Clara, the last night, we came through Salt Lake, I don’t remember the town we stayed and it seems like it was Provo, just out of Provo. But I believe it took us three days to come down, three nights, on the road. And UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 5 it was just such a dreamy little town there, the fruit and the valley. And then, to drive up on the—that road at that time went up the side of the mountain and it was so scary to ride on this highway up to the mesa, and then on down to—into Las Vegas. So when we topped the hill and saw this little tiny green spot in the valley, which was Las Vegas—that was of course, our destination. And it was really amazing to think now, when you see the huge valley that it was such a little tiny dusty town at that time. Well, what time of day was it then, when you arrived in Boulder. Or (Laughs) I should say, what—you came through Railroad Pass, then? And around the hill down what, through what we call the lake view section of Boulder now. And then, drove on down to the riverside, is this correct? Or did you stop some place? No. We stopped. That was right? We stopped in Las Vegas for my husband to get a haircut. And when we drove in, we were thought—we thought we were on the really main part of town, which was Main Street. And I remember I stayed in the car and he walked around the corner to get a haircut. But at that time, right up from the depot, there was—a town was just a few blocks away. So most all of the stores were within a short distance. Then we started out on the highway, I suppose by getting some instructions from people, at the barbershop, or in town. And it was just a road with—it wasn’t gravel or anything, just a trail out to Boulder and I imagine that we might’ve—it was probably in the afternoon. Then, he stopped at the office to see Mr. Crowe for—course, Frank Crowe, he knew personally from working for him at Guernsey Dam. The office was where? In Boulder City here. I don’t remember. It was uptown here someplace. UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 6 Mm—hmm. And that—so he told us to go on down to the dam and I think this little building, probably the only building that was built was the place where he was to find information. So the very next morning then he went to work, which was the 17th of May. Now you said, everyone was living in tents. When you fold in down the edge of the river, what—you had a tent then to set up yourselves? We knew that there wasn’t any place available here. So before we left Wyoming my husband bought a tent, if you could believe it, for fifteen dollars and it had a bed that rolled up and a little camp stove. And you tied it to your car. It had just—it was about nine, seven foot, or something like that. And you tied the awning to your car. To hold— Mm-hmm. (Unintelligible) That’s what we’d call a baker tent then. I—I’m not sure what it was called but you had to have some support and if the wind blew then there, lots of times they would blow down. But the awning was supported—had to be supported to hold that tent up. It didn’t have tent posts then? No. Well, yes, I guess you’d say it was. But it was just a—well, different than the tents are today. But you could—would have to be supported by something. But if the wind blew and caught this awning, the tent would go down, course you could reset it again. So you were camping with a little gasoline stove, was it? Yes. A little— A one burner or two burner? UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 7 Well, it had two burners. And you had brought your dishes and some food with you, and you had two cots and a table and a little bed, right? Did you say two cots? No. One cot. Yes. (Unintelligible) Yes. Just a bed. How wide was it? It wasn’t really a—a very large bed. But it would—metal links or pipe links would fit in and then it would roll up so that way you could carry it. And we used that for many, many camping trips for years and years afterward. But it was just a canvas bed. And then, ‘course we had bedding. We did bring some food with us. My mother—going back, we came from a family that we were taught to cook and to (unintelligible) and sew, and do our own provisions. So the garden food was essential and she sent a lot of canned food, which we had always lived on and had our own food at the home. Mm-hmm. At the ranch. So the—a few things that we could bring in the car—and of course, we opened a can of chicken, would eat on the way down. Because we had never been out. This was a new experience for both of us. You mean you had never really been away from home? No. I’d never been away from home. I was the first one to leave and it was a real, real sad goodbye. Because it seemed so far at that time—leaving the home and a big family. There were UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 8 nine of us in our family. And we’d been such a close family. And mother had taught us all how to sew and how to cook. And I helped my dad out in the fields, we milked cows. I mean we were just a working family. But— Mm-hmm. A very loving family. So it was a sad goodbye when we came. Well, the next morning then, your husband got up early and went off to work at the dam. What did you do while he was gone? Well, the first day he left, I don’t quite remember. Except that the people—there were so many people there that were looking for jobs or had small children that you could just probably be visiting with someone all day long. But he was late coming home the first night. He had several hours of overtime. So it was dark. And I remember I was real concerned and worried but I don’t remember what I fixed him for dinner. I did keep my dishes, all the few we had, in a bread box. And it was—just a few forks and knives for two of us and the dishes. So I imagine that possibly I had opened something that we had brought along. Because most of the light of the car was what was our first probably few days or weeks until we knew what we were going to do, how long we’d be there, and till we could get better light. So that first night, I don’t really know exactly how much food he did get for dinner. (Laughs) So you were pretty worried then, when he came home, many hours later than you expected him? And also I learned that he had gone down to work in a boat. And there were ‘course a number of things that each day we would learn. But he worked seven days a week at that time. So we were alone all day and I imagine letter writing, and sewing. Because I had always made my own clothes. And just visiting would be the main thing that we did for the first few days. UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 9 Mm-hmm. How did you manage when it did get hot? ‘Cause we know it gets hot down there. I just don’t know how I stood it. Except I do remember that we didn’t get our first paycheck for a month. So practically all our money was gone. And we did enjoy going to Vegas to have just cool water to drink at the restaurant. And I did want to mention about the Busy Bee Café. It was off of Fremont Street and just a couple blocks from Main Street. But we would get a delicious meal in there for thirty-five cents. So after work, we would go in and eat lots of times because he worked seven days a week. So you would be going in then, after dark? It would be late? Well, it would be—wouldn’t be dark, because it didn’t get dark till so late. Oh, yes. I don’t remember the time he came home. Later on he went to work from in the afternoon. It was so hot that they went to work later. Worked from four o’clock till twelve, I believe it was. But right at first I don’t seem to remember of ever mining too much. I was lonesome. And we couldn’t get the mail until we came to Boulder and it was quite a long ways up there and—so I imagine, the first week or two, or maybe a month that we didn’t go very much, or do very much, at all. Except just live. Exist. How did you manage to keep your food safe to eat? Because in that sort of heat they would spoil very rapidly. You didn’t buy anything unless it was canned. There was very little fresh fruit or meat or anything at this little store that was run by Emory. There was so much—well, I just think back, it seemed like eating and sleeping was just what you could get. Maybe peanut butter sandwiches was practically all my husband was able to carry in his lunch. Because of the heat. There was—UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 10 at night it was so hot later on that—not right at first, maybe in June, that you had to wet sheets to be able to rest. Because you just couldn’t sleep, it would be so hot. If they would dry, there was a breeze and they would dry, you’d get up and wet them again in order to be able to sleep. But your food was only in cans or something that you could open and use because the ants were absolutely, our worst problem. The heat and the ants. And you had to put the table legs. We had a little card table we used. And you had to set the legs in a little can of water, or the ants would beat you to the food. You—they were just there before you could even realize it. So later on, say the second month, or maybe a little longer. We purchased an ice box. But the butter setting on top of the ice wouldn’t keep firm. So you realized how terrible warm it was. I don’t remember during the day—I suppose you just washed your face off. Just have the coolness of the air. Mm. Or the breeze that would make it cooler for you. I don’t recall that it was so terrible. But now looking back, we said, we never could go through it again. Oh, you—speaking about water, where did you get your water? My husband and I were talking this morning and he said that we just got it out of the river; the Colorado River. That—at that time there was not even a well. Well, later they dug a little place aback from the water edge. And the water would seep in there, and it seemed to be a little clearer. But you would go down and get a pail of water and then it would settle and there would be this settlement in the bottom, so it would be clearer. Otherwise, it was just a—not a chocolate color, and orange color. Mm-hmm. (Unintelligible) (Unintelligible) Colorado. (Laughs) UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 11 But that’s the water we drank. And I imagine maybe we had a few things that we brought from Vegas with water in. But at first that is. And that is why there was quite a lot of (unintelligible). It was—everyone was busy lining up to go to the (unintelligible) at that time. The place that we were, were just outside toilets. They were real careful about keeping ‘em with lime on account of the flies. See there was nothing at all to protect water from the ants or the flies. And there was no garbage so the garbage was buried. We would take our scraps and just take out and bury in the sand. Because it was all sand and rocks. And there was mesquite bushes. So really, the only place to dry your clothes was on top of mesquite bush and I was wondering how we ever washed our clothes. I just don’t remember about our sheets or anything. But I imagine I washed them and hung ‘em over there, for the time being. Because you were really just existing. Exactly where was this tent town located? It was right at the edge of the water, just before the bend turns, like where the lake is now—just when you see the edge of the water before it disappears around to go down to the dam. That’s where this was located—right at that very bend. And the highway that the men road on down, was just—it had been excavated and you’d drive there and almost afraid to pass the car because it was nothing but sand and the water was just a few feet below. So you were right—how close was your tent actually from the wall, then, of the—? From the wall? The canyon wall? Or—and the water? We were back quite a ways from the wall of the canyon, because that road came down from Boulder City and that tent town that, or the house where the man lived at had charge of the men going to work. Then, the tents went over an area, quite a large area. Clear back to the farther bank. I imagine when the flood water came, when the river—before the river was tamed, it could UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 12 probably cover this area when it was real, real hot. But we were back quite a long ways. But five hundred tents you see, there would be quite a few—quite a large area. But it was not right on the bottom. But it would be in the lower area and it’s so extremely hot. When you went down from the top of the hill down to the lake you could feel the heat. And each time you felt like you couldn’t get your breath. It just seemed like huh, it was so terrible hot. So that much temperature—difference in temperature from the top of the hill down to the lake. We still feel it but I’m sure it was nothing like it was, then. ‘Cause now we have the water. I was wondering what—how long were you in this little seven foot square tent? I don’t think we lived in that too long. We had a chance to buy another. The people were coming and going so rapidly. Maybe some would be there a few days and maybe some would be there longer. Maybe some would never find a job. But the men were going out with the heat. They called it passing out. It’s when their temperatures went terrifically high. And they would—the ambulance would go out so many times with the people that I don’t remember if there were too many that died— Hm. But they would have to pack ‘em in ice and take them up. And of course that siren, oh it scared you ‘cause you wondered if it might be your husband and sometimes you wouldn’t get word about it. But— We were talking about the living—you said you started out with this small tent. Oh yes. And then—did you—you bought a bigger one then from someone else who left the area? So then, there was either someone that had gone or something. We bought a larger sized tent. And this one had a board floor. So I don’t imagine we lived in that other tent more than six UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 13 weeks or two months. And then, the other tent was quite a lot larger. ‘Cause that’s when we got our refrigerator. I mean not refrigerator. Ice box. (Laughs) It was an ice box. Yes, at that time it was. And I remember of one time hanging a ham up from the ceiling, down on a little twiner rope. And the ants could still find it. So we had a ham one time, I don’t know how large it was but the idea was you had to keep your food. You couldn’t put ‘em anyplace that the ants didn’t find it within a very short time. But we lived down in Rag Town it was called, until October the 8th, of 1931. I believe you told me that one time your husband was one of those that succumb to the heat and was taken out by the ambulance. He came home one—time. He said he was—I asked him this morning, and he said he was working swing shift then. And it seemed to me like it was late in the afternoon. But he said, that he had come home and just didn’t feel well. But he just perspired all over his arms, just beads of perspiration. And he just was weak. So he didn’t have to be taken to Las Vegas in the ambulance. But he did have heat prostration. So I got ice from the little store and put ice on him. Then he felt well enough that the next day, I believe it was the next day. It might’ve been a little longer that he thought the best thing to do was go to the mountains to try to get—feeling better. I don’t remember how he got off his job and was able to leave but maybe he had made some arrangements before he got home. But we drove up to—into Las Vegas then, and saw a doctor. Then on up to the mountains for about two weeks before he was even able to do anything at all. It was just lucky that he wasn’t one that passed out or didn’t make it. Because most of these temperatures would go anywhere from a hundred and six and above. And they were unconscious UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 14 and they would just pack ‘em in ice and take ‘em in to the—a hospital, or into Las Vegas. But the thing of it is, so many of ‘em didn’t—didn’t— Recover. Survive. Mm-hmm. Or recover. So you were camping up in the mountains? This is the Spring Mountains you’re talking about? No. It was up at Mount Charleston. We went up to Deer Creek and at that time the road wasn’t built from Deer Creek over to now, what is Lee’s Canyon. But they were working on it. So we had—we took our car, and we took our tent and went to the mountains and just lived there, just—on what, I suppose we bought a few groceries just like you would when you’re going camping. And were there about two weeks. Then we came back to Las Vegas and there was a strike on, so we had to stay at Cowboy Bills Camp and we put our tent up in Las Vegas and that’s out on the Westside now. And there were quite a few, number of people who lived right there along a little—well, they had the artesian wells and there was a ditch there. So we just put our tent up and lived there until we could come back to the dam. Now the strike was April—I mean, August 8th, so you were gone then, the end of July, and the first part of August up camping with your husband? Then we came back and I think we lived in the same tent then, after we came back and it might’ve been then when we bought this second tent. It’s just hard to remember exactly the time. Because I didn’t have any family there—we didn’t have any children and I had all my family UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 15 afterwards. And the busy time of raising them and all our activities, you just kind of forget these little things that happened that long ago. You said in October then there were some houses available and you were able to move up into the town of Boulder City? Yes. On October the 8th, we were able to get— Mm-hmm. I believe they called ‘em, a one room house. The one we’re living in now on California, is a two room house that wasn’t torn down. But at that time, the electricity and the water wasn’t even in that house. The house wasn’t finished. It was just built. There was no painting or anything like that done. And we still had—the only way you could get in was through the alleys and they were nothing but about a foot or so of sand. You just had to stay right in that track or you got stuck. And that’s where the John’s or the toilets were too. Yes, ‘cause we still had the outside toilets. But it wasn’t very long. Possibly a few days, or a week before we had electricity, and I don’t remember about the water. But the—house then, I painted, did the woodwork and papered it and all, spent so much time. Course as I said, I was the new, new bride, thinking that we was going to live there forever. But after I had my three children, the Six Companies were going to tear it down, so they just moved us out. You called it a one room house, it had then a large room. How larger was the room that you actually did your living in? There was one quite large room. I would imagine it might have been twelve feet. Oh, maybe it wasn’t over ten feet. And that’s where we lived and where our bed was. Then there was a small kitchen. And there was sinks in it and a stove, and we had a small table. Then there was a bathroom. There was a shower and a toilet off of that, which was just very, very small. They had UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 16 a porch built on, which was screened in and then a lot of the people made a—there was room enough for a small cot out there. But there was a small screened in porch, too. It must have been quite a problem living in such a small space. You—what kind of stove did you have then in your kitchen? It was a gasoline—not a gasoline, but a propane stove. It was a gas stove and the heat. We didn’t have any heat. I remember the first winter, we had a little kerosene, possibly, you don’t even see it, anymore, it was possibly a foot and a half high, and round, had a round burner on it. But you had to watch because the flame would creep up. So one time when I had gone out, I don’t remember if I was outside visiting or not, came back and my kitchen was all full of smoke. The burner had creeped too high and it just smoked the whole kitchen. But that was our heat for the first year. And then, possibly the next year or two we did have some sort of a heater, in the other room. It didn’t seem like it was too cold, the first year at all. And then, I must tell you, too, about if we’re talking about the weather. When we were on Fifth Street, the doctor came down one day to see my boy, that was real sick, or my little girl, I forget which. And he was so impressed with the cooler we had on the window. He stood in front of this and he said, “I am going to go home and have something like that built for my house.” It was Dr. McDaniel’s. He was a doctor at that time. So we had one of the first coolers. And it was just made with burlap, on the outside of the window. And you put a hose to let it drip around and keep this wet. And then, you had a fan in the window that circulated the air into the house. And so, we had seen this down in Needles, California, we had been down to visit a friend that we had known here, and she told us that people were using these. So I believe we had the first one that was in Boulder. But this doctor was so impressed that he had it very, very soon after that; one for himself. And he lived right UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 17 next to the Mormon Church, the old Mormon Church, which was on Avenue G. But he was—everyone that lived there knew Dr. McDaniel’s. Was this just burlap on the outside of the window? Or was there a frame? There was a frame. Possibly about two and a half or three feet and a square. And you just put burlap on that. And then, you fixed a house around so that the water would—would drip down and keep this moist. Mm-hmm. But before that, we just had a small fan that would circulate. We had electricity when we came here. But at the lake there was no electricity at all. So then we did have little fans that we used that would give some relief, just a little breeze that made it feel cooler to have— When you were living here—I forgot to ask you of what your address was when you moved up then from the lake? It was— You said Fifth Street but what was the house number? It was 712 Fifth Street. We were just very possibly the fourth house off Avenue I. And it was quite some time before they ever put the streets in. They had possibly, the next, a year at least. But we were—there were a quite a few houses built in Boulder. There were a few when we came but they put them up real rapidly, because they thought they would only be here until the Six Companies had finished the dam. So the houses were just real, well, just shells really. And they had the screened porches thinking that the people would want to be out there to keep the flies away but it still was so hot it wasn’t any relief to have them. But on Sixth, at 712 Fifth Street, we lived there from October the 8th, 1931 until December the 31st, 1936. In that time we had our family. Our first boy was born in Boulder City Hospital here. He was almost the first baby born UNLV University Libraries Helen Holmes 18 in a hospital on the hill. They were taking maternity cases a week or so before but before only the men that were hurt at the dam was being cared for. Then our two girls were born later. But one—while we lived in the house on Fifth Street. How did you manage to keep the children clean? And what did they do when they were living in this little house in the sand? (Laughs) Well, we had a marvelous time. The people were so friendly and there was a young matron’s class, Parson Thomas, our minister at that time, he had been minister down at the river camp, I guess, down at Rag Town. And I had met him and gone to church and he had been at my home several times. But when we came up here there was a young matron’s class and everybody went to that. You could take your children. I remember of taking my young son and he was real quiet. The others never were but anyone that looked at him caught his eye. He always had a smile. So I met so many people because they would come over