OFF TO CHACOLET AND CCC LIFE

by Eila Dean Waldrop Wendle

It was January 1, 1936 when my husband, Rex Wendle, loaded me and my three children; Zoe Ann (5), Dean Rex (3) and Katherine (K.) Frances (6 months) in the front of a pickup to move to Chacolet, Idaho. We had only the barest of essentials in the rear end of the pickup.

We were leaving a cozy two-bedroom house on Third Street in Coeur d'Alene with even an electric refrigerator. The last two children had been born there as we couldn't afford a hospital and the doctor came only for the delivery which was 20 dollars for each baby. It was natural childbirth but I didn't know there was any other way to have babies.

Remember, this was depression years. My husband was the newly appointed superintendent of the National Park Service project to turn the Chacolet and Rocky Point areas into a State National Park. There were at the head or end of Coeur d'Alene Lake (I don't know which) and above the Shadowy St. Joe River -- the only river that runs down the middle of the lake.

I had no idea where we were going, or what I would find. I can remember being terribly concerned. I would be now and probably would have been then if I'd known what I would be up against. One thing that puzzles me now is what became over furniture. I know we had an electric range, the refrigerator, dining room table, chairs, a double bed, crib, baby bed and a couch. There was a rug in the living room. The rest of the floors were would which I scrubbed every day. Rex had built a huge swing out of telephone poles and also a playhouse for the children. We did take an electric washing machine which I will tell you more about later.

We arrived in bitter 20 degree cold and lots of snow to a house Rex had rented 'furnished' which was down a steep incline near the lake. It had two rooms with a narrow runway called a kitchen, I guess, because it had a range (?) which I could never get hot enough to boil water on. There was a heating stove in the living area, a double bed in the bedroom and bunk beds where the two older children slept and a baby bed for the baby. I was surprised to find no sink in the kitchen, no electricity and of course, no running water. I said, " How do you wash?" No answer. Rex hold up water from the well below and filled large garbage cans. The water rebate frozen all winter...which last until late February and mostly below zero degrees and lots of snow. I had no car or contact with the outside world except for a telephone that only took local calls.

To get water, I had to chip the ice from the large garbage cans and to wash, I had to heat water in a big copper boiler. Rex put a gasoline motor on our washing machine but I had to push a pedal about 100 times to get it started and dry the clothes on a rack by the stove in the living area. I ironed with a gasoline iron from which flames would flare up and scare me. I remember still ironing one night about midnight, the tears rolling down my cheeks from frustration and fatigue. This was a long way from my completely carefree childhood and Southern Idaho.

I had been a great reader and in the midst of my hard times someone gave me a book "A Lantern in Her Hand." "About a pioneer lady who had even more children than you do," she said. I got so engrossed in the book which I didn't finish until late afternoon. Then the children were crawling around, the baby was wet, the fire had gone out and it was very cold. The house was dirty and I had been a meticulous housekeeper. I put the book down, started the fire, cleaned the children and a house and promised myself not to read another book as long as the children were small.

The out house was up the hill in had you slippery rocks to get there. I wouldn't let the children use the potty so I had taken up the hill over the slippery rocks to the out house except for the baby who was in diapers.

This was the time of the Civilian Conservation Corps, and a wonderful program for young men during the depression and a way for them to learn a trade. We had 8 foreman who were masters at their craft. They used about 120 boys to work building the park. They lived in barracks type housing under the supervision of an army officer. The camp doctor was also an army man. The wonderful training these boys received included stone masonry and carpentry as they built trails, buildings and beaches.

Anyway, the winter went on and on. We used gasoline lamps. They are scary to start as the flame comes up and makes a sizzling sound and I was afraid of them. When Rex was late and it got dark, I'd pump the lamp, start to light it, get scared, take it outside then bring it in unlit and the children

and I would sit in the dark until Rex got home. This went on and on. I'd see Rex riding around in the NPS pickup truck supervising the work and loving it while I was sitting home, caring for the children and working so hard with only the barest necessities.

Memories include taking only amassed trying to make noodles and being unable to boil potatoes because the stove wouldn't get hot enough. Existence was a struggle. I finally wrote my mother to say I was coming home to stay. I thought she'd be delighted. Guess what she answered me? She said she was ashamed of me, she thought I had more stamina, that my grandmother had come across the planes and covered wagon in 1875 with less and she survived. She didn't have less because no one could have had less than I did or had it harder but I had no alternative but to stick it out. As a result, I have a wonderful marriage to a wonderful guy that is lasted more than 60 years and have raised four wonderful children and have 14 grandchildren and 8 great grandchildren...all of whom I am very proud.

The big event of our lives than was once a week we got to go to the 'camp' for dinner. We set with the officers with the CCC boys in another room. One time we went to a dance in Worley, Idaho. We got his CC boy and his wife to baby sit. When we got home, we found a couple asleep and couldn't awaken them and the stove was RED HOT and ready to explode. I shudder to think of it even now. The Lord had to be there protecting our children.

Spring finally came in the snow started melting and we had a sea of MUD! We were in the cabin with a train going by behind us. When it past, we heard Zoe crying. She was weaving back and forth. Rex and another man went to get her had a pull her out of her boots which then sank down and never did get them. Also, when I first got there and found no sink, I threw the dish water out the door. When the thaw came, so did the stink!!

While we were there that spring one of the camp officers wives came to visit and brought her baby. Kay was about nine or ten months and the two were playing on the floor. The other baby was coughing and guess what? Whooping cough!! Kay got it, of course, and when I'd feed her she'd throw it up from coughing. This I am ashamed to tell but I was sort of glad because she quit having wet diapers. I'd always kept my children on strict schedules so she was bathed at 10:00 then given orange juice. I had her bath ready and went to get her in her crib. A little wax doll was lying there instead of my baby. I grandeur and ran next-door to where practical nurse lived. She said she was dehydrated so I grabbed the juice and gave it to her. It was like seeing a wilted flower coming to life again. I called the camp doctor. He came over and said I was the dumbest mother he'd ever seen. The coughing and throwing up were from the whooping cough and to keep giving her liquids until they stayed down. Since then, I'd always watched for dehydration and to "hell" with dry diapers.

That summer we move down to the park area near the store to a larger two room house. One side was a kitchen with a big, beautiful range that worked and a sink BUT still no water. I carried that in buckets from faucets next-door. The other room was the sleeping area which was curtained off. It was much more pleasant. We were where the activity was and went once a month to St. Maries to buy groceries. I stored my canned goods in a lower cupboard and kept soaps and items harmful to the children in high cupboards. They of course, found the canned goods. They played with them, stacking and tearing the labels off. I noticed this but they were happy and I thought I could tell by the shape and size of what was what. Try it sometime. A friend told a she came over one time and I had six pans on my beautiful big range and was trying to find a can of tomatoes.

Summers as I remember, were blistering hot. In place I had dirt for a yard. Rex wouldn't let me have grass as it wasn't natural. A real nature boy, he was. Well, one hot summer day while living in the second house, I'd carried water from next-door, heated it in a wash boiler on the stove, washed the clothes in that d--- machine with gas motor, hung the clothes on a steep hillside, ironed them with that dumb gasoline iron on the front porch and instead of putting them away, I took time out for a short (I thought) nap. When I awakened, the children were up from their naps and had thrown all the cleaned, ironed clothes in the dirt below the porch.

That fall we moved into a three room drafty house next-door. The children were sick all winter -- some seriously. Then the beautiful caretakers house was finished and we moved in. imagine two bedrooms and, later, electricity!!! When those lights were turned on and the refrigerator started, I thought I'd never again asked for another thing. There was a huge fireplace that heated the house with the aid of a new wood range and running hot and cold water. In August 1938, we were transferred to Portland, Oregon and in December 1939 to San Francisco.

I can't call these the happiest days of my life but the experiences probably made me stronger. I wonder if today's young women would just stick it out? Many would be much happier and there would be fewer mixed up children. My children had a stable (not perfect) home with two caring parents and lots of love and plenty of discipline. They had an orderly, organized life which gave them all the security and well-being which money can't possibly buy.