people I have known

[doodlebug]

Clara was first to speak."Fish spears! There's some fun! After I learned that, I always had something to do for fun during the runs. I learned when I was a teen."
I said,"So,you're a spear thrower? I never woulda guessed that!"
Sis laughed"You don't throw fish spears. You stab with fish spears. My old man use to hand forge spears for fish and he made a few for bear.Good trade items in the old days."
Clara said,"I used the old spears. The harpoons from spruce root or yew mounted on cedar poles.The iron spears made such a mess of the fish. The old ones made a single hole and the white man version made several large ones. You see,young man,to spear fish you had a long pole with your point on the end ,with line attached. The Indians used cedar bark braided and twisted together.I used fishing line with gloves.You didn't throw the spear,you gently lowered your pole in the water and slowly worked it over beside a fish you could see in the clear water.Then you simply stabbed it. Your tip came away from your pole and stayed in the fish and you pulled it in hand over hand on the line. This was often a good work out after a few 20 pounders! It was a chore for sure as the current was something you had to fight with it wanting to take your cedar pole down the river.That is why there are specific spots on the rivers that are known for fishing. Places where the rocks divert the current and you can stand over a hole where the fish gather and you can see. Of course eventually the Fish and Game Department came along and made us all quit that."
I looked over at Sis and asked,"Bear spears?"
Sis laughed and said,"Yes but you didn't really spear a bear either. The Indians wanted them to just politely poke at a bear when they came into their berry camps.They mounted them on long poles and if a bear came in they would call it "cousin" and tell it to please pick your own berries. Most of the time the bears cooperated. Not always. Dad made them around eight inches long with notches on the butt ends to tie them onto poles. At the end of berry camp they would take them off the pole and store with their other camp gear.Dad traded for gloves or smoked fish. They made a five piece glove that was almost indestructible. I still have a pair at the house."

[doodlebug]

"Of course there are the foods we all learned to harvest from the mountains. I learned to prepare stinging nettles and fiddle head fern which I like better than green beans. I can also cook skunk cabbage but it is a long process and I'm not fond of them."Sis was talking to me but looking straight up the mountain on her side like she was watching for something.
Clara agreed on the nettles and ferns."Yep, good food and free. I never could eat the cabbage. Another thing we picked up was getting grouse with a throwing stick .Fool grouse would sit there like idiots and you could throw your stick and break their neck. Bringing home a big Blue was always appreciated at my house. The trick was being able to throw side-armed with accuracy. We use to practice at the old on Fawn road on bottles."
About then we came to the fields of Strawberry mountain. I pulled off of the road and finished off my coffee while the ladies got their belts rigged up with their buckets." Now Sis, stick close and don't get lost."Clara laughed. Sis said,"If I do, could you send some handsome fellows to find me? I'll be waiting." They both giggled.
The berries had been picked out close to the road so we had to march back a few acres before we got into the fruit. We got into the middle of some high bush berries and set in to work.The sun was just getting to the top of the mountain and peeking over. Being a nice cool morning it felt great when it finally hit us. The fields became a world of activity. This was my heaven. The birds were thick and up to singing for us. I found Sis to be a good bird imitator.She had several of their calls down perfect.

[doodlebug]

Sis was doing one of the calls of a chickadee when we heard a bird behind us call back that was ,to me unmistakable, but made Sis cock her head in confusion. I knew it was of the blue jay imitating a hawk, but it was being done by my friend Lou Anne. She has a habit of doing that call ,probably unconsciously,like I walk around whistling a tune. It gets on some peoples nerves I've noticed. My whistling ,that is. Those jays love to come swooping in amongst a bunch of birds "screeching" ,I guess just to watch them scatter.
When she came into view she waved and hollered,"I saw your rig. Finding any berries? Mom is coming behind me but Jon stayed in camp with Dad.They're fixing fish to roast by the fire." Louis is the worlds best salmon cook, I swear!
He knows every method there is I think. Roasting meant he would have his matched sets of split ocean spray sticks(or iron wood as they call it) and a bunch of small "green" sticks of either vine maple or alder to use for lacing split fish onto the stakes.Then they are driven into the ground in front of the fire kind of on a slight angle leaning back some. They cook like that till just before the meat falls off the sticks. You set them back far enough to cook slowly. Delicious!

[doodlebug]

Lou Anne didn't have any Earth shaking news. I talk with her husband a lot anyway so I stay fairly current. She said her mom was moving kinda slow because she'd taken a tumble after catching her toe on a root the day before. Her mother is sorta my adoptive Aunt and was around 69 at that time and the best person to walk in the woods with. She knows every plant out there that is good for medicine or something you can eat. She and I have hung out a lot at these camp outs and always enjoy each others company. Every time I go over to Jons house she shows up minutes afterwards. I try to always take her a little gift of some kind.She is an excellent basket weaver and has made me cedar bark hats and headbands. I learned to prepare cedar bark for weaving from her and Lou Anne. It is a lot of hard work and explained to me one of the reasons so many people don't make baskets any more with traditional materials.
Lou Anne and Sis had an interesting discussion on birds and bird calls.Lou Anne was telling how she learned from an uncle that taught her to communicate with the calls ,done softly back and forth even in rooms full of people talking.That was the first I had heard of that after knowing Lou Anne for all of those years. It did clarify a scene I witnessed in Sunnyside inside a cafe one morning. An older Indian man and a young girl carried on some sort of conversation with bird sounds for a long time. It was fascinating. I was suppose to be listening to the conversation at my table as it had to do with a job I was to bid.I just couldn't ignore what was going on a couple of tables away. Mary Anne caught up just to tell Lou Anne they were all going up to Polepatch,another traditional picking spot.Berry season is the time to catch old friends in the woods from different tribes and that was Mary Annes intentions. They invited us to dinner that night and said they had plenty.
I wanted to have them out of the hills before dark.

[moxie]

Is this a storytelling thread?

[doodlebug]

Is this a storytelling thread?

perhaps.

[doodlebug]

We stopped by camp and talked with Jon and Louis for about an hour and ate some smoked canned fish Louis brought. I told Jon I'd come back out with the wife but had to get the women home before it got too cool out. We did go back out,taking sleeping bags with us, and spent a wonderful evening eating good food and visiting. I finally crawled into my bag about one in the morning and lay there listening to drums and singing until I fell asleep.
Clara and Sis had a full day and were very nice to pick with. No one fell down and everyone got berries. That is what it's all about. I got an invitation to dinner the next Saturday with the promise of a huckleberry pie. That works for me every time.

[doodlebug]

The next time I got together with Clara was in the little park by the library. She had called and ask that I meet her. She said she had a little present for me. She was seated at a table when I got there with a cloth sack in front of her.
"What have you got there,Clara?"
"Here you go." she opened the bag and brought out a hand full of carving tools."These were Anthony's Grandfathers.I don't think I'm ever going to need them. I like your work and hope you'll enjoy them." She pushed them over to me. Then she pulled an envelope from her purse and opened it.There were pictures of furniture and candle sticks and wooden bowls and spoons with beautiful carvings on them. "Just wanted to show you what you can do if you want with these." She smiled and winked.
"Thank you,Clara! I'll take good care of them." I was truly overwhelmed. Swiss carving tools are not easy to come by especially with the quality of steel these were made from.
Clara continued,"I gave my old pistol to Crow and my chocolate set to Sis for her grand daughter.You see,I am not stying around much longer and I'm glad."
I started to say something but she just talked over me."It is fine.I am ready to be done with this life. Lately all I dream about is the old days and all of my dead friends and family.I think they are calling me."
I said,"Yes, and I think you are crazy.You're as fit as a work horse"
"oh yeah,a horse.I wanted to tell you about that. I'll have to start before that tale though. You see, the world fell apart for me in 1943. Between the Japs and Hitler things had become a mess. All of our young men were going into the service and Anthony was right in there with them. These mountain boys thought they were the best fighters ever and wanted a chance to prove it. I talked and cussed and cried and begged but he said he wouldn't be called a coward and that was that.He said "we'll go kick some butts and be home in a short while.Don't you worry. He may as well have said 'stop breathing' for all the good his words meant. It was only a few days after he left that I knew I was finally going to have a baby. I remember looking down at my belly and saying"Great timing you little shit!" From the beginning Miss Minnie started doting over me and was either at my house or I was at hers. I was happy and so was she. We spent time writing Anthony and others that had left and she helped me as much as she could with the chores around my place.There was so much to do.I always knew Anthony worked hard but once I was taking care of things I had a new appreciation for his efforts.
In early fall when I was three months along I began to have trouble. I won't go into detail but by the end of that third month I lost the baby. I almost lost me too. Miss Minnie and Dot Hamm nursed me back to life.
Just as I was getting my strength back a chimney fire caught the shake roof afire and my house burned to the ground.The pretty chimney was all that remained. Miss Minnie tried to console me saying Anthony had built one house and he could build another. I lost everything I owned. I found myself unable to think clearly.My mind just wandered around. I was afraid most of the time wondering what would happen next."
Clara broke down at that point and started crying.
I told her" lets stop this talking,Clara! You can tell me later,o.k.?"
She blew her nose and looked at me and said,"No, now is the time."
I asked," Want an ice cream cone? I can walk across the street and get us one."
Clara said,"Strawberry,one dip."
I went over to the Club hearing her sobbing behind my back.

[doodlebug]

When I returned,cones in hand,she was sitting straight and looking off towards the water tower that sits on the mountain at 2500 foot level.The water comes from Packwood Lake and is the coolest best tasting water in the world.
I gave her her ice cream and said"It's a nice mountain isn't it, Clara?"
She said,"it can be a friend or it can kick your butt."
"very true. I have seen that work both ways."
Clara finished her ice cream and threw the end of her cone to the jays."Little blue beggars!Now,where was I?"
I said,"Your house burned.What did you do then?"
"Well, I moved in with Miss Minnie and Grandpa.In a tiny way it actually saved us some trouble. I decided I would try to not morn the loss of the house because Anthony indeed could build another house and I sort of started designing my new home in my head. I would change very little.I did want a second bedroom though and a larger pantry.It gave me something to waste my thoughts on.A good amount of the women left at home by their men going off to fight had been moving down to Vancouver to work the ship yards.I knew I couldn't leave Miss Minnie so decided I would work trails for the forest service. For the first time women were maintaining trails and manning fire watch towers.They needed us. It was hard work and a lot of it heavy work but the gals around here were tough. Sis actually got me on and we worked together for the most part. I was the relief help for the Tatoosh tower and gave the school teacher Martha Hardy a break once a week. It was an indescribable view and it seemed only a mile from Heaven itself. Martha wrote a nice little book about her time up there called Tatoosh."
"I've read it.It really is a nice book."
"I also packed supplies and repaired the phone wire that ran up the mountain numerous times. If the wind blew the line came down somewhere.I had a way with the stock,learned from my Dad, and didn't need any help. Old Bill,our wrangler, liked to see me coming. He is responsible for the pistol. I bought it from him for two dollars. We use to have friendly shooting matches when no one was around.I could nail a stationary target quite well but he had me on tossed cans.I never did get that down well enough to join a wild west show.Ha. By fall of '43 I was tougher than I'd ever been and had enough money to last through winter if I was careful.Miss Minnie was Happy when the forest service work was over for the year. We canned and put up food through the fall and started in on fish when the silver salmon run started up in October. My nerves were settling down and I had a bit of inner peace I guess you'd call it. Grandpa had got me addicted to reading by then and we spent alto of time talking over books we read. I took up writing for a while but was poor at it and finally gave up.I told him I had writes block and it was fatal.He laughed.
Three days before Christmas He went to the out house in the middle of the night and didn't come back. He died right there on the crapper.They called it natural causes.Probably the heart gave out.He was only eighty three. I'll never forget holding Miss Minnie and saying "what in the hell are we going to do now?" She pushed me back gently and looked me in the eye and said,"Honey,now you and I will just have to pull this plow together.We're a good team." I cried until I had no tear left to let out.

[doodlebug]

"The funeral was truly a celebration of a life lived well. We put on a big feed with many ladies helping us prepare.There were people from as far away as Chehalis attending. I mostly shook a lot of hands,accepted many hugs and cried the whole day. It was exhausting. Miss Minnie was glad when we got home and collapsed in our chairs.It felt empty in the house and we had both run out of words.I still sat awake and listened to her sob back in her bedroom. My heart was broken. I told myself I had to get us some help now. I simply had to.I finally fell asleep with a plan in my head.
In the morning I discussed my idea with Miss Minnie. She was agreeable so I went down the hill to the place where Lava Creek dumps in to the Cowlitz River. An orphan named Berthal Bevins lived in a tar paper shack there. Everyone called him Buck because of his big buck teeth.The kid was only sixteen but had lived on his own since twelve. Old Jim Yoke had sort of had him under his wing and taught him well how to survive. He wasn't afraid to work and from all accounts was honest. I found him by a fire eating smoked trout under a tree beside his little shack. When he saw me come up he stood up and took off his cap and asked"Have you eaten?I have plenty of fish and more smoking right now.Pull up a stump." I thanked him and took a piece of fish from the pile on a plate.He then told me how sorry he was to hear of our loss." I always like that man. He give me work several times and I tried to do a good job."
I told him I was sure he was satisfied his work,otherwise I would have heard.
I told him "I've come to see if you and I can work out a deal,l if you aren't already in steady employment." He laughed and said a"ll I have been employed at is fishing and reading a book Martha Loaned me.I'm certain I can fit your job in."
I told him what I had in mind was steady and year round. His interest was up immediately.

[doodlebug]

"Here's what I have in mind and you can tell me what you think"I told Buck.
He said,"lets hear it and we'll see."
I said "O.K, You start work each morning at the breakfast table.We're both good cooks. You are done with work at the supper table. Every Sunday is your day off.Your chores will be to do anything and everything around the place that needs doing.You'll have our help but you will mostly be the ram rod of our place.Any job too big,we'll get help.We'll fix up the tack room in the barn for your room. It has a good stove and the walls are sawdust insulated so its warm out there in winter.I'll even put up curtains to brighten it.You'll have room and board and two dollars a day ,paid monthly.I know it isn't a lot of money but you will eat well and there will be bonuses if you do well. Now,what are your questions,Buck?" That kids eyes were big and he jumped up and held out his hand and said,"when do I start.?"I took his hand and shook it and said,"As soon as we get back from town after getting you some overalls and shirts.You sir are a mess!"
He grinned and looked down at his clothes and said,"I'm sorry, I fell on hard times. " Then he laughed. I can't go this very minute because of these fish. How about in about two hours? Will that work?" I told him I'd be back.
When I returned he had obviously bathed and combed his hair and had on a cleaner dirty shirt.In town we got Buck rigged up with two pairs off overalls,three hickory shirts and a god pair of boots.The store Miss Rosie threw in a pair of leather gloves and a couple of bandannas. We left there with a well dressed Buck who held his head high.It was the first good feeling I had had in a long time. We stopped off at the library for some books then headed home. When we turned onto Lav Creek i asked him,"Buck,can you drive?"He smiled and said,"Miss Clara,I can drive car,truck or horse drawn log wagon." I laughed at that and said"I can tell you're underpaid already."
I do believe that was the best deal I ever made in my whole lifetime.

[doodlebug]

" Buck took to our cooking right off,I can tell you that.Even though he worked long hours he began to gain some bulk and got to looking real healthy.He was funny and sort of cocky at times.His had a real sense of appreciation.He as polite and kept a clean tongue around us and was a fair conversationalist. Miss Minnie took to him right away and before long they were regular comrades. She was a packrat and dug out a bunch of clothes she had saved from when the boys were growing up. She gave him one of grandpas good pocket knives and the use of his .30-.30 Winchester any time he wanted. The first day he was with us I had him get up on the roof and clean the chimney. That was a job that I saw get done for the rest of my wood burning days. After a couple of months there was a sense that everything would work out for us after all. Anthony would be home soon and my world could get back to normal. Everyone was having a hard time with their men gone who lived as rural as we did but we all were determined to survive this war and come out a better nation.There was patriotism in the air. The only trouble was the letters that came to Lewis county informing some one that their husband or child would not be coming home standing up. those times were horrible.No one was immune.Everyone had some one to worry about.
Miss Minnie and I were preparing a package to send to Anthony one day when she surprised me. She opened a small box and said this is for you. She handed me a simple gold wedding ring.Anthony had me get this for you and here is the match. I'm putting it in this package and hopefully he will be wearing it soon.Look inside. I read the inscription,' Clara - Anthony- eternity.'

[doodlebug]

"It was Miss Minnies idea for the sign change out at the fork.Beneath the original one she hung another that read "Buck Bevins- Foreman".With that Buck began to think of ways to bring in money for the place.He had a sense of tins that went way past his years.While he wasn't what I'd call a great furniture maker he did pick up enough to do less than perfect chairs and chests. We were able to help him understand some of the process and explained how to read the patterns Grandpa had laying around.He was able to start selling some things built with materials we already had on hand. All of the tools you could ever need were there and ready to go.Then he bought rabbits. We had the rabbit market cornered and as they breed and have bunnies so rapidly we got a nice herd of them going in no time. When we butchered he tanned the hides and we were able to sell those by lining leather gloves with them for winter use. Buck spent his Sundays away. He decided to become regular attending church. We kept asking him what little lady had caught his eye but he was closed mouth about that.He took the pickup in to town Sunday morning and came home in the late afternoon. We weren't snoopy ,mind you,but we sure were curious.

[doodlebug]

"Summer of '44 I worked trails again.Buck had everything under control and was around in case Miss Minnie needed him. I experienced a full blown electrical storm up at the look- out that was both frightening and awesome.I thought for a while the building would take flight and I'd end up 1500 feet below on the rocks.I watched the blue lines dancing on the rocks from the strikes. a very strange feeling ran all through me and I felt like there was a powerful Angel standing there holding the place on the ground.I later told Martha about the feeling and she just said,"I'm glad some one else understands."
It was nice getting back out with the girls in the mountains.I needed some kind of a social life and it was good to get it ,with pay.
Two days after the work ended I was notified that Anthony was dead. I cannot, to this day,tell you where my mind went for the next two years, I have no remembrance. None. Miss Minnie or Buck could tell you WHAT I did but I don't know for sure. All I remember is brief moments of eating a certain thing or fishing on a certain day. just little flashes.

[doodlebug]

"I can't tell you that I woke up from that. Sometimes it seems so.Other times I think this is all a dream. I was aware after a couple of years that I had lost track of time. That,you know, large periods of time were missing. I only noticed it because of other people talking about things we did that I knew I wasn't a part of but everyone else said I was. I had to learn to be quicker recognizing that I should just believe what ever anyone else said.It made it very difficult to join in on a conversation with others when you have no recollection of the event. That finally faded away with time as I out lived people and no one thought much about the '40's and '50's. Right now there are four of us left in town from those days here.
I asked Clara."You never considered marrying?"
"Of course.I considered a lot of things. I considered jumping off of Tatoosh look-out but was too old to get up there. I had plenty of sparkers though. There were some good choices through the years. It wasn't really that I couldn't love another man.I just couldn't make myself care enough to have the chance to feel the pain again.I knew inside myself that I was skating on thin ice as it was. I went out some. After a while every guy interested knew I had just so much to give.I never let on that I was wife material. I've done my share of nursing broken hearts and my share of having pity on the unfortunate. In return I've found shoulders to cry on without having to put up with a hand on my leg. I've had some good gentleman pals."

[doodlebug]

"Clara,what ever happened to Buck and Miss Minnie?"
"You know how they say the cream rises to the top?Well,that was Buck.He had a knack for learning.If you want to see some of his work go look over the interior of the holy roller church on Adams Street.He did all of it. Pews,pulpit,and those huge high back seats up on the preaching platform.He was always a step ahead of everyone it seemed. He brought the turkey industry into bloom for the farmers here and made a lot of money until the processing plant closed over in Centralia.He stayed on our place for nine years.He brought his Rebbecca there,building his own house on my old site which I gave to them, and they had three children.He negotiated the sale of our land to the forest service when they were taking over everything on Lava Creek. He proved in court that the place was more than land, it was a business that brought in good money.Buck was family to me and he certainly was to Miss Minnie.She adored that man. After the sale he and Rebecca moved to Seattle just long enough to get his schooling. Little shit became a damn lawyer. He came back to Lewis County and lived and practiced in Morton. Buck died of an addiction to hunting. He perished in a plane crash on a Sheep hunting trip up in Alaska.He was about to turn 72 years old.
Miss Minnie, oh my dear Miss Minnie. She died right there in that house I live in now. She was ninty seven. She enjoyed good health and a stable mind right to the end. She was sitting in her rocker watching Johnny Carson. She got to laughing and just all of a sudden left me for Heaven. If she didn't make it up there ,no one has hope ,I can tell you that."

[doodlebug]

Clara looked tired. I asked if maybe she didn't want me to drive her the two blocks to her house. To my surprise she said yes. Sis was out in her yard when we got there and we had a brief conversation. I bid them goodbye and Sis said we needed to get together and eat some elk steaks her grandson had brought. I told her to just name a time and I'd show up with an appetite.Her elk gravy is the best. Clara said she'd make dinner rolls and a cake.
The next morning Lonnie, the fire chief of our volunteer fire department called me and wanted me to meet him at Clara's. When I got there, Sis was sitting on the steps face in her hands. "She's gone ,hon. Lonnie is inside." When I walked through the door Lonnie was in the kitchen talking on his phone. He held up a finger and mouthed" hang on." When he was finished he said "come in here." On the kitchen table was a cake with a recipe and a note in large letters with my name on it.It read "see you,kid. You're o.k." that's it.
Clara was in the bath tub.She had slit her veins open and sat there until her blood drained out. Her old faded wedding dress was laid out on her bed and her cane was half burned in the fireplace. A large cardboard box of photographs sat at the foot of the bed with "Sis, it was fun." written in magic marker on the side.
I really wasn't surprise for some reason. I went out and sat down by Sis and put my arm around her. She just kept sobbing "oh ,Cee Cee" over and over.Even now the memory breaks my heart.
The wife and I went with Crow and Sis up on Lava Creek to scatter Clara's ashes. When she gave Crow her pistol she had asked that he do that for her when ever it was time. Today the big Cedar stands there marking her resting place. Some trees are marked as "seed trees" by the forest service with little brass tags. Hers will stand for hundreds of years if a fire doesn't take it. She never had much luck so I'm not placing any bets on it.

[doodlebug]

Message deleted by doodlebug.

[doodlebug]

I've received a couple of emails with questions about Crow. While I spent a lot of time with him,one of his daughter and one of his sons,I don't have much of his history. I guess he was 72 or 73 when I met him.He was born in the mid '20s. Perhaps it was '23 but I don't recall.Either way it was in a log cabin out in the then wilds of the Cispus river country,and he was one of 8 kids. His folks came out here from Kentucky in a wagon pulled by oxen in the late 1890's. This surprised me but I worked an with old carpenter in 1977 who remembered the trip out from Missouri by wagon in 1910.
Crow only had a few stories of his early years. One I loved,knowing devils club plants,was about how each child in the family was responsible to find a nest of ducks each Spring and keep an eye on them. When they were big enough to almost fly they would get together and all chase down the ducks for their dinner.The real trick he said ,was to let them get as fat as possible and still be ground bound before you harvested them.But the fun was his telling how with the devils club so thick along the river it was a very painful experience and they always got stung all to hell by the plant.It is covered from stalk to leaf tips with stinging barbs that get stuck in you and itch for hours.It grows eight feet tall and the leaves are huge. Today the river is still like that.Just a tangle of ouch all along the banks.Mix in Stinging Nettle and you have real problems finding a safe way in to a good fishing hole.
Crow said they were as poor as everyone else and around here there were few exceptions ,so you didn't feel all that bad about dressing in rags and going barefoot all the time. He said he had goals though.His father had two brothers that came out from back home every spring with a load of moonshine.They were his heroes. Like cowboys. Like the James Brothers. They dressed in long black duster coats that had pockets sewn on the inside to hold a couple of small revolvers and wore one gun on their belt with a large knife. They wore black slouch hats and Crow could just picture what an exciting life they lived. When he talked about them his eyes showed the excitement of a kid. One day when he was talking he looked at me and smiled and said,"Hell,they were just damn gangsters.I figured that out in my teens."
Like every other boy in the mountains he worked as hard as he was able from early on. There was only so much help and it was usually your Ma and Pa and brothers and sisters.
He got his name when he was seven years old from something that happened on the road to the Kiona place. As you leave Randle going west there is a long steep hill that at that time was dirt and rocks. He said it was a lot like trying to drive on a train track. That day a load of watermelons was head up the hill and one rolled out and burst on the roadside.Crow was walking up the hill dressed in all black.He said his light jacket was a "thrown away" mans suit coat that hung on him like a tarp.It stopped around his shins.His pants though were too short and met the jacket at the shins. Crow said he was in heaven though because "I was half starved and here was a whole watermelon that I had all to myself.So,I sat down right there and didn't leave until I had eaten all I possibly could hold." On top of that hill the Old Man Miles and his wife were in a porch swing watching the kid. The old man looked down at him and asked his wife what the hell is that? She said,it looks like a little crow.when he finally made it up the hill and passed their house they waved and laughed and said"Hey there little crow!" By the time he returned home it seemed everyone was calling him that. He said,"I stayed Little Crow until I was big enough to bust a jaw or two and since then it was just Crow.

[doodlebug]

[doodlebug]

previous post is devils club. While it is a mess to work with if you aren't prepared it is a wonderful medicine.One of the most wildly used plants by the greatest diversity of tribes from the North West up to Alaska. It also makes light weight walking sticks that are plenty tough.Some make "medicine" beads from the branches or dried roots.When they have aged they look lie ivory at a glance. The edges and under side of the leaf is all stickers.

[doodlebug]

I guess I should add that it is soft and easily broken when it is green.The best medicine comes from the early spring leaves on top in my opinion. Others believe the roots and bark. While I use dried bark simply because I am already "skinning it" to make walking sticks I still think early leaves are best if you've a choice.It is related to Ginseng and used for diabetics.arthritis,ulcers and digestive tract disorders among other things.

[doodlebug]

As far as childhood the only other things he talked about was the hog and turkey drives and "visiting" with Mary Kiona,the matriarch of the Kiona Indians,a part of the Taidnipaum tribes which I believe includes 28 tribes of the same linguistic group in this area.
The drives were undertaken on foot from here to Chehalis/Centrailia meat processors.Everyone who could raised first, hogs and then later turkeys and got together to walk them to market.It's a little over 60 miles and was a two week camp out.The river had to be crossed twice without benefit of bridges.The hogs, they swam across.The turkeys had to be caught and hauled over on log rafts. You couldn't rush the animals as they would overheat and die or they'd lose too much weight and cost you a lot of money in poundage by the end of the trip. Crow said to him, it was just a wonderful outing that any mountain kid loved.For one thing,if you were invited to work it meant you were being held in the same respect as any other man.Didn't matter about your age. That felt good. The trail wound along the river whereas today the highway runs much straighter ,so I know many miles were added by their route. It was never a walk in the park.For one,it rains damn near all the time here. Camping in the rain was never all that comfortable. Firewood is always wet. The ground is saturated with water.

[doodlebug]

Mary Kiona wasn't sure about her birth year but it is guessed she was between 119 and 121 years old when she died. Crow was forever fascinated with her. As a kid he would go over and watch her make baskets and leather goods. Mary never liked indoor living and spent most of her time under a canvas lean to working over her baskets and he would quietly sit and watch for hours.There was no conversation.Mary never learned any English to speak of. Her land was next to one of Crows kin,the Kelley family. He said she never gave him any notice.His favorite thing was watching her chew leather to soften it. He would imitate her and how she help the hides and nibbled away at it. Mary saw the very first settlers come into these parts in the 1850s. She rode a white horse and held herself like the royalty she was. She use to ride up the hill to the Kelleys ,dismount and just walk in and watch westerns on their T.V.when they were over she rode back home without ever speaking a word. They say she was very excitable during the "Indian attack"s with the cavalry coming to the rescue.I think she died in 1967. You could check that I reckon.
Crow did a lot of drinking with Marys granddaughters and carried, till his death, a wonderful beaded wallet one of them made for him. The Kelleys would always offer Mary a beer when she came up to see the westerns and though she never drank,she always took one home. She had figured out that she could sell it to one of her grand daughters "suitors" sooner or later and kept a stash in her lean to. She was very good at making modern items like sandals and purses out of cedar bark.Her saddle was even made of woven cedar bark.

[doodlebug]

Mary at 107

[doodlebug]

Crow was a logger by profession.He started chaser chokers like most everyone does. That is mostly running up and down mountains of tangled trees and brush where a level spot is rare all day long. It is dangerous work.A little miscommunication between the yarder( the guy pulling the logs up the mountain with cables on a long high wire that is attached downhill to a spar log.)and the choker setter and some one loses a life or at least a part of his body. You don't meet loggers that spent their life in the hills without a good beating of some kind.
Crow worked up to topper and tree feller,jobs that pay more and are even more dangerous. When you climb straight up a hundred and forty foot tree and cut off the top,the tree sways violently up to 10 feet back and forth. If your climbing spurs slip or your rope gets messed up it is a long drop.
Crow and many other young men decided to take a break to go over to fight Hitler. They figured it wouldn't take long and would be an adventure.Plus they could fight somebody besides each other,which was a favorite pastime. Still is. Loggers are different. Lets just leave it at that.
We talked about his being over there three times.All short conversations. He simply couldn't do it without it tearing him up. One afternoon I went to the Spruce to have a coffee and see what the dirt in town was.Crow was fairly on his way to being relaxed. A stranger was sitting at the counter and Crow commented how the man looked like his old sarge. "Big round headed fellow like that guy. Best man you could have in charge of a bunch of stray dogs like us. After a long battle that ended with around ten thousand people dead on one open field we got the job of driving trucks out of there with our guys stacked in the back. All I had to do was drive. Anyway,the fight had been in a valley and we were pulling up a long winding hill that twisted and turned to the top. We were asking each other about the Sarges whereabouts after the fight as we hadn't seen him. Meanwhile ,something is rolling around in the back and on each sharp turn it was hitting first the tail gate and then one side or the other. I finally stopped and went to the back to see what it was. There was Sarges big old head just looking at me." Crow never said another word. Just stood up and walked out. I think he had been sitting there with all that on his mind when I came in. Maybe it was something that had to be said so he could make his feet work. I always thought so.

[doodlebug]

Crow cornered me one day and said he had been talking to a mutual friend I had built a holster for a 1911 .45 government Colt for. He said he had been thinking about a "batman" utility belt with a holster for his browning hi-power 9mm., a knife sheath, a mini mag flashlight holder and a game hatchet sheath all built on one belt that you could just put on and be "ready to go for a stroll". I said if he'd give me the objects I could make a pattern and build him one. A few days later I had it done. He was tickled pink with it and went around showing it off all day. One of the people he shared it with decided they liked it and broke into his home that weekend and stole it. We both felt bad about the loss but all he ever got back was the pistol after the police recovered it over in Centralia from a pawn shop. He let everyone know he had it back and then spent several nights "away "from home figuring the criminal would return and do the same thing again. He was right. It broke his heart when it turned out to be one of his own grand kids. The next day he asked me,"what in the hell is wrong with people these days?" I said I didn't know but it was getting tough. Crow said "pretty soon the only ones left will be the quick and the dead." He got to where he said that a lot and people thought it was kinda funny.I figured it was the sad truth and a hard to accept reality of an old man who knew a better time.

[doodlebug]

He was always quick to offer to buy a drink for anyone who sat down at the bar with him but what I loved about him was he was also quick to buy a few sacks of food for some one who needed it. He always did it on the sly, asking some one else to deliver the food and keep where it came from a secret. Any of us that ever did the delivery ,that I know of, did keep it to ourselves. It was so much more fun that way. He told me several times,"anyone can talk and gossip and pass judgment.Don't matter. What matters is if you can help,you help. We have paid preachers that can pass judgment.That is not my job.If the preacher ever starts buying the groceries and car batteries and gasoline, I can take up giving sermons on Sunday morning. I might not be that bad at it either."
Sayings that people have stick with you after some years of hearing them. You often find yourself thinking these sayings while listening to conversations. One of my favorites,no matter how many times I heard him say it was when some one asked Crow,"whatcha been up to Crow?" He would say "oh, I've just been driving stakes in the ground by my feet to see if I can detect any movement at all."that was followed by the nicest smile you'll ever see on a man. The sincerity in his voice was the thing. The delivery.
His youngest son was forever bothering him when he would be in the bar too late. He'd haul him home before he was ready to go and otherwise embarrass him in front of his friends.As a result he would often find opportunity to strike back. A perfect example was one morning after a deep snow that had most roads that weren't the main roads too deep to drive even with four wheel drive. I had just pulled off of Skate onto Combs and instantly high centered in my jeep. Fortunately a friend was right behind me on Skate and saw me come to a stop. He quickly got me back on Skate with a chain. Going on into town when I got to the main Highway,Crow was parked just a little out of the way headed in the direction I had just come from. I pulled to the side and walked over to see that he was ok. He was sitting there,at 9:00 A.M. with a bottle of Jack between his legs with a big grin on his face. When I came up he rolled down his window and asked if I needed a little cold medicine and offered me the bottle. I said,"what in the hell are you doing Crow?"He said" I've just been driving around since 5:00 getting stuck and calling Lon to come get me out. HA!! HA!! I asked him "how many times have you been stuck?" He laughed and said"eight, so far. Lon keeps telling me to go home.HA HA!" I said "well ,don't take Combs. You're riding lower than me and I high centered immediately." He said "thanks" and we watched as he drove straight to Combs and turned left and instantly high centered. I watched ,laughing my ass off as he got out and walked up to Lisa's house to use the phone. Out by the Chevron station we met Lon coming our way from the fire house with his face as red as his big dodge ram. I thought,"Lon, you're a good boy!"and laughed some more.

[doodlebug]

The last time we spoke he told me he had a cancer in his brain and the doc wanted him to quit driving. He said "I guess I'm suppose to lay down and die in a coupla weeks. I'm not sure about that though." The doctor told his kids to take away his truck keys and for some reason don't let him have any whiskey. Now that made no sense to me. You have two weeks to live and you've drank all your life? Come on. Lon moved him into his home mostly against Crows will. I didn't go by there because I just couldn't do it. I'd said my goodbyes and more important , my thanks for being a real Pard. Everyone of his friends that did go visit took him a bottle showing their respect and Lon threw every one of them away. I think that hurried things up but he made it almost a month after we'd said our "so longs".
There were over 50 kids,grand kids and great grand kids at his services. He reproduced well! They had full military honors and when the veteran played "taps" there wasn't a dry eye in the crowd.The gun salute was precise and executed perfectly.
One of his grand daughters sang "Grandpas Hands" and then we all joined in on Amazing Grace. I found myself being a little jealous that he was done with this round and moved on to the next. I loved Crow and still do.He was one of those people you were always glad to see.
It'll be a treat getting together later. Maybe we'll go fishing.
R.I.P. my friend

[doodlebug]

I met Bikewreck Bob in 1983. Everyone got tired of his long name and shortened it to Bike for a while. that didn't roll off the lips quite right so the locals over in Conner Montana changed it to wrecks. That formally became Rex if his name was written. I guess it still is. That's been a while.
I use to go over there, in the middle of the Bitteroot Mountains ,for at least two weeks every summer after my old huntin' pard moved there from Washington State. We camped with our kids one week up on Crazy Creek above the hot springs. Later in the summer the wife and I went alone for a week. Farming out 6 kids for a week wasn't easy but we did it. We took one dog,Blue,and left Muffins at home to guard the house and the next door neighbors fed her and saw that she had water.Her name was kinda a joke. She was no muffin! She would eat your leg all the way off if you came in the yard. She was one of those sneaky girls that didn't really bark and warn people. She just snarled as she sunk her teeth in. Loved that dog. One day I somehow left home and left the front door open. My pard,Big John, came by and saw my door ajar and wanted to just close it for me. After trying all of his dog whisperer tricks he gave up and figured if HE couldn't get to the door,no one else could either.He left a message on my answering machine that he tried. We lived way out in the country on a gravel road an didn't get much traffic anyway.