~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James Allen Mikesell
page 2
My childhood was normal while I was in school. I was sickly but I seemed to get around a lot and had many friends. I may have had the world's meanest big brother. Ernie was stuck with me tagging along during most of his daytime activities. He was a ringleader in the Alemeda neighborhood and a kid brother didn't do much to enhance his stature as a tough guy. He had a miners vocabulary, too. He had learned it as a child from the miners at the Brown [Black] Bear Mine, who delighted in him but earned the eternal wrath of his mother for their trouble. I know that Ernie had my best interests at heart during those years but his methods in little brother sitting seem questionable. I know that he wanted me to learn to swim when he heaved me into the Big Canal from the headgate and then went off with his pals. I think he reasoned that by the time I got to the bank or went down through the pipes to the feeder canals I would be a seasoned swimmer. I'm here to tell you that won't work. I'm about as graceful in the water as a cement block, even now. We had a habit, or maybe I should say "he" had a habit of going out to the edge of town to steal cherries or apples depending on the season. I can remember being abandoned in the tree or in the orchard to face the music while Ernie and his buddies disappeared at high speed. All this at about the age of 7 or 8 years. But I survived the bumps and bruises and always thought my brother the best one in the neighborhood. He was very active during his life, always interested in everyone and everything and to the end of his days a leader wherever he happened to be. I'll try to tell you more of his escapades later on.
Betty and I were fairly close in age and she has always been a close friend to me. I remember her trying to mother me somewhat when we were small and I can also remember that I was fairly rebellious. She was active, too, or maybe I should say too active, as a child. I seem to recall that she fell out of a moving car and I know she was an active tree climber. Lining the streets in the Alemeda neighborhood were some very tall and thick Poplar trees and it was, of course, ritual that the kids should climb them. Betty would have to verify this but I think she had a tendency to fall out of those, too. Perhaps she was jumping though, because in the fall those same trees would shed litterally tons of leaves and these, raked into piles, would become tremendous cushions for jumping and leaping. Great gangs of kids would gather in the streets to play and she and I would be right in the thick of things. Betty being the oldest girl always had household chores to do. These caused some dissension since as long as I had outside chores I didn't have to do any inside, and there were always lots to do outside. Even living in town didn't mean giving up a cow and chickens and all that farm stuff. Everyone was in tough shape then because of the depression and we couldn't have survived without the fruit and vegetables and milk and meat we raised ourselves. The toughest chore, and I had it for many years, was cutting wood for the stoves, particularly mom's kitchen range. Boy, was she ever a nit-picker about that. As soon as I was able I helped her get an electric range but before that I cut a million sticks of wood to micro tolerances.
Della Ann and Thelma were born while we lived in Pocatello but I don't remember any of their experiences until after we moved to Washington. Thelma was pretty small at that time. They were both the apple of their Dad's eye, but they had lots of competition for attention. Aunt Della had babies as well as both Cyde [Clide] and Narvel's wives, Ruth and Margie, in Bliss, Idaho. We also had another baby in our house for a time when Aunt Nettie came to live with us. Connie was the babies' name and so Mom had another one to care for. Nettie was the baby of Mom' s family. At the time we lived in Pocatello she came to live in our basement for awhile while she sorted out her life options. She was a great person to be with being naturally kind and friendly. We all loved her very much. When she left it was with a man named Ross Hutchinson. Ross had as hard a time as anyone finding work in those days and so they traveled around some. Uncle Ross seemed to like me and I went to visit fairly often. They lived for awhile at Culdesac where I stayed with them for a summer. When they moved back to Pocatello they lived out of town toward Inkom in a sparsely settled area that was a snake heaven. Ross offered us a dime for each rattle that we brought him but he hadn't realized that Ernie was such a hustler and he had to renege when we brought them in by the dozen. We killed them around the yard, in the garden and one morning in the house on the sewing machine treadle. Nettie and Ross and Connie later moved to Washington and lived near us and Uncle Carlos.
During the time that Dad worked for the railroad he was laid off a number of times and had to look for work to tide us over. Mostly he worked around home in the fields or helping others. One time he contracted to dig a cesspool for our local grocery store. As I recall it was to be 36 feet deep and about 3 or 4 feet across. He dug for awhile and then he set up a windlass with a bucket and put Ernie down in the hole with a short handled shovel and a pick. When the job was done he paid Ernie off with a brand new heavy duty Western Flyer bike. That bike was in our family for years and was the center of great fun for all us kids. In the hilly country we lived in later some of the fun turned into hair raising adventure. On several occasions we moved temporarily back to the mine while Dad worked awaiting recall by the Tie Plant. There Ernie was responsible for me to his great dismay. Normally we just fished or hiked or bugged the beavers in the creek but one day he decided to see if he and I could make a stick of black powder big enough to blow out a stump. Well, we could and we did but we picked the wrong stump. It was too close to the mine and the explosion caused a small cave-in in the shaft where Dad and Uncle Henry and the other miners were working. No one was hurt except Ernie. It was some time before he could sit comfortably.
Now, one more story before I get on with this; we lived that same summer in canvas covered, wooden floored shacks that were all in a row and close beside each other. There was a real problem with pack rats in them. We just couldn't keep them out so Ernie decided to eliminate them with Harvey's .22 rifle, never dreaming that the bullets would go through the wooden sides without losing any velocity at all. Well, again no one was hurt except Ernie. I talked with him years later about it and he said his bottom hurt still.
Those were tough times for our folks. They had not much money and a growing family to raise. To compound it all Dad just wasn't well. He was badly crippled due to illness in his youth and he was beginning to feel the effects of coal dust in his lungs, now called Black Lung Disease. Finally, after 10 years the railroad laid him off for good. With no future in Pocatello any longer he got his last pay, wangled a family pass from the Union Pacific, packed a few household goods and with just a few dollars in their pockets he and Mom loaded us up and we moved to Spokane.
Before I go on I should pause and try and remember a few of our relatives in Idaho. This may be pretty hard to do as I have never kept in touch with any of them. In fact until I grew older it was a subject far from my mind. I didn't know either of my Grandfathers well and both Grandmothers died before I was born. Grandpa Mikesell stayed with us in Pocatello a few times and I remember he was quite taken with Della Ann and Thelma when they were smaller. I was at that age when I was too busy too give much time to him, I guess. I don't remember seeing Grandpa Allen except on trips to Bliss where we stayed with and visited Uncle Narvel and Uncle Clyde and their families. They both had good farms there and were prominent in community affairs.
Aunt Grace in those days lived near them in Gooding or Jerome or some such town. I wasn't close to her. She punished me for something I had no control over and I stayed away from her as much as I could. Of course, after we moved away from that area there was no way for me to stay in touch with anyone.
Dad's family was very large. There were 7 boys and 4 girls although Esther died in about 1932. The rest lived long and for the most part productive lives, leaving many descendents. I knew Charley, Mary (she married Gilbert Dean), Lucile, Ernest, Willard and Henry when I was a child and I remember them well. I didn't meet Uncle Ern until he moved back to Spokane from California, I guess, but the rest visited us and we them on occasion all the time we lived in Idaho. Several of the boys were in the trenches during the World War (number one) and some suffered injuries. One, I don't recall which, was late returning home from France and was presumed lost by some. Willard suffered from wounds and had problems the rest of his life.
As for the Allers, I knew Uncle George, of course. He married Libby, Dad's older sister. To meet George was to remember him, for he was the cussinist one of all. Every other word was a cuss word and some in between were, too. Dad always liked him and after he had been up to see him Mom almost had to make him eat the soap to clean up his language. Uncle Doc was a magician in vaudeville (I don't know his given name) and Della was his assistant. One time he was at our house and showed us some slight of hand, which really impressed my friends. Dad told me he made speeches on the corners in town. Once when I was a small boy I went to Rexberg with Dad alone and we visited several of the Allers. They made over me quite a bit and I remember the trip well for that reason.
I'm not sure I ever knew any of Mom's uncles or aunts but we did hear lots of stories of Uncle Julius, Aunt Sophie and the others.
I remember that train ride [to Spokane] in detail. It was all a great adventure to me.
[Jim died before he could finish writing his memories.]
back to page 1 of Jim's life story
No comments:
Post a Comment