Hanes House at Poplar 1935 - 1936
Northwest of Poplar
In 1935, when I was in the fifth grade, we moved to the country again, approximately two miles northwest of Poplar.
This time our house was a distance north of the highway and railroad tracks. (No train running through the house here.)
This was originally a log house later converted to a frame house by adding siding inside and outside.
This construction of frame over logs made the house extremely sturdy, warmer in winter and cooler in summer.
But it didn’t keep the dust from seeping in during those awful blinding dust storms when, as they say,
you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.
Here our facilities were again outdoor plumbing, portable round tin bath tub, wash pan, water bucket and dipper, slop jar,
and that chamber pot for nights and inclement weather.
As for light, I seem to remember light bulbs with on/off pull chains hanging from the ceiling in at least two of the rooms.
On the east side of the house were living room, dining room, and kitchen; and on the west side, three bedrooms.
Mama and Dad had the bedroom at the front (south) of the house. The center room was mine.
Donald and David had the north bedroom.
Helen with successor to Doris Rosemary |
Native jewelry
The previous occupants of this house were an Indian family.
We found evidence of their meat supply in the back yard where dog skulls were scattered about.
The house was unfurnished, but they did leave a chest of drawers in my room. In one drawer we found a jar of dog teeth.
Always wondered what they’d planned to do with those teeth. Make jewelry, maybe?
Musical family
At the Hanes house we got a piano! I took lessons in Poplar. I loved it. No one ever had to make me practice.
Unfortunately, we weren't there long before the next move when we sold the piano.
I never became much of a pianist. It was there I first recall Dad getting out his $25 Sears Roebuck fiddle
and sawing a few country tunes. It was kind of scratchy but I was thrilled.
School
Dad farmed there but kept his job at the grain elevator in Poplar. He walked the two miles to and from work every day.
One snowy morning, the school bus didn’t come, so Mama bundled me up and Dad walked me to school on his way to work. Guess what? School was closed.
I seem to recall it had to do with the furnace breaking down.
Anyway, Dad was well on his way to work and there I was all alone outside an empty, locked school building.
So, back home again on foot through snow blown into three foot high drifts alternating with strips of bare ground.
I’d take a couple of steps on bare ground then plow my way through a deep drift to the next strip of bare ground, and so on all the way back home.
I was used to the snow so the two-mile trip back home didn’t upset me too much. But I was sure glad to get there!
I got good grades in arithmetic thanks to Dad. No, he didn’t do my homework,
but he had a pretty good system for sending me to class with a perfect paper.
Dad just didn’t make mistakes when it came to numbers. I would do my homework, and then show it to Dad.
He’d go over each problem, mark any that were wrong and give it back to me to redo until I had them all right.
(We didn’t call it “math” then.)
Cook stove
We got a new cook stove. Mama was really proud of it.
It had a nice big cook top with a reservoir on one end where there was always a supply of hot water.
It had a pretty crème colored porcelain finish on the front, back, and sides,
and on an upright support with shelf at the back of the stove top.
View of the future
On the wall near the stove, Mama had fastened a picture cut from a magazine.
It showed a lovely one-and-a-half story white frame house with a white picket fence
enclosing a large yard with lots of lovely foliage.
Mama said that is where we would live someday. Remember that picture!
No ‘panks’
Mama had reached the exasperation point in her efforts to potty train toddler David.
Finally, she told him if he messed his britches one more time, he would get a paddling.
Well, he did, and she did. I’ll never forget that dear little guy retreating behind the bed in the boys’ bedroom pleading,
“Mama, pee don’t pank! Mama, pee don’t pank!” (Let’s get this straight. “Pee” wasn’t the problem.)
I hated to see my sweet baby brother get spanked and I happen to know Mama felt pretty bad about it too.
But something else has bothered me.
It seems she delivered the paddling right away which, of course, is the most effective time for punishment.
But did she take time to clean him up before complicating that clean up with strategically placed “panks”?
Mama reflected one day that with his curly hair, David would have made a pretty little girl.
So she tried one of my old dresses on him and stood him in the middle of the table.
Mama! Really! Well, he did make a cute little girl in that dress but that was the end of that.
Watch your step
Donald continued his penchant for stepping in things. (Appendix, Donald)
This time Mama put that round tin tub beside the bed in my room, gave the little guy his bath,
put clean clothes on him except for shoes, and put him on my bed for his nap. She should have moved the tub.
Donald woke from his nap, slid off the bed, and into his bathwater. At least his shoes were still dry.
‘Ear’s trouble
I had earaches in the winter there. Awful aches!
Mama would fix a hot water bottle for me at bedtime, but of course it didn’t stay hot.
I cried and wailed, with good reason, but poor Mama and Dad didn’t get much sleep when those earaches hit.
Elsie
Our trouble with Elsie persisted at the Hanes house. (See Appendix, "Elsie’s Story")
The previous occupants of this house were an Indian family.
We found evidence of their meat supply in the back yard where dog skulls were scattered about.
The house was unfurnished, but they did leave a chest of drawers in my room. In one drawer we found a jar of dog teeth.
Always wondered what they’d planned to do with those teeth. Make jewelry, maybe?
Musical family
At the Hanes house we got a piano! I took lessons in Poplar. I loved it. No one ever had to make me practice.
Unfortunately, we weren't there long before the next move when we sold the piano.
I never became much of a pianist. It was there I first recall Dad getting out his $25 Sears Roebuck fiddle
and sawing a few country tunes. It was kind of scratchy but I was thrilled.
School
Dad farmed there but kept his job at the grain elevator in Poplar. He walked the two miles to and from work every day.
One snowy morning, the school bus didn’t come, so Mama bundled me up and Dad walked me to school on his way to work. Guess what? School was closed.
I seem to recall it had to do with the furnace breaking down.
Anyway, Dad was well on his way to work and there I was all alone outside an empty, locked school building.
So, back home again on foot through snow blown into three foot high drifts alternating with strips of bare ground.
I’d take a couple of steps on bare ground then plow my way through a deep drift to the next strip of bare ground, and so on all the way back home.
I was used to the snow so the two-mile trip back home didn’t upset me too much. But I was sure glad to get there!
I got good grades in arithmetic thanks to Dad. No, he didn’t do my homework,
but he had a pretty good system for sending me to class with a perfect paper.
Dad just didn’t make mistakes when it came to numbers. I would do my homework, and then show it to Dad.
He’d go over each problem, mark any that were wrong and give it back to me to redo until I had them all right.
(We didn’t call it “math” then.)
Cook stove
We got a new cook stove. Mama was really proud of it.
It had a nice big cook top with a reservoir on one end where there was always a supply of hot water.
It had a pretty crème colored porcelain finish on the front, back, and sides,
and on an upright support with shelf at the back of the stove top.
View of the future
On the wall near the stove, Mama had fastened a picture cut from a magazine.
It showed a lovely one-and-a-half story white frame house with a white picket fence
enclosing a large yard with lots of lovely foliage.
Mama said that is where we would live someday. Remember that picture!
No ‘panks’
Mama had reached the exasperation point in her efforts to potty train toddler David.
Finally, she told him if he messed his britches one more time, he would get a paddling.
Well, he did, and she did. I’ll never forget that dear little guy retreating behind the bed in the boys’ bedroom pleading,
“Mama, pee don’t pank! Mama, pee don’t pank!” (Let’s get this straight. “Pee” wasn’t the problem.)
I hated to see my sweet baby brother get spanked and I happen to know Mama felt pretty bad about it too.
But something else has bothered me.
It seems she delivered the paddling right away which, of course, is the most effective time for punishment.
But did she take time to clean him up before complicating that clean up with strategically placed “panks”?
Mama reflected one day that with his curly hair, David would have made a pretty little girl.
So she tried one of my old dresses on him and stood him in the middle of the table.
Mama! Really! Well, he did make a cute little girl in that dress but that was the end of that.
Watch your step
Donald continued his penchant for stepping in things. (Appendix, Donald)
This time Mama put that round tin tub beside the bed in my room, gave the little guy his bath,
put clean clothes on him except for shoes, and put him on my bed for his nap. She should have moved the tub.
Donald woke from his nap, slid off the bed, and into his bathwater. At least his shoes were still dry.
‘Ear’s trouble
I had earaches in the winter there. Awful aches!
Mama would fix a hot water bottle for me at bedtime, but of course it didn’t stay hot.
I cried and wailed, with good reason, but poor Mama and Dad didn’t get much sleep when those earaches hit.
Elsie
Our trouble with Elsie persisted at the Hanes house. (See Appendix, "Elsie’s Story")
Poplar Park
When we lived at any of the three houses in the Poplar area we often had picnics at the park in Poplar.
The park was on the Poplar River, a tributary that branches north of the Missouri River.
(I just recently checked the location on the map and discovered northwest from Poplar,
just over the border in Canada, a town called West Poplar on the bank of the Poplar River.)
Park on the Poplar River – 1930
The picnics usually included Grandpas, Grandmas, and/or aunts, uncles and cousins.
I couldn’t swim but loved to play in the water. Once I waded from the shore toward the center of the river.
As most know, the deeper the water, the harder it is to keep your feet down.
Up they came, my head went down, and I began rolling and rolling gently through the water.
I remember calmly thinking, “Well, I guess I’m going to drown.” No panic. But suddenly my head hit ground.
I’d been rolling toward the bank. I stood up and continued playing.
No one saw me and, for some reason, I never told anyone. It was like, “Oh well, I didn’t drown. No big deal”
I couldn’t swim but loved to play in the water. Once I waded from the shore toward the center of the river.
As most know, the deeper the water, the harder it is to keep your feet down.
Up they came, my head went down, and I began rolling and rolling gently through the water.
I remember calmly thinking, “Well, I guess I’m going to drown.” No panic. But suddenly my head hit ground.
I’d been rolling toward the bank. I stood up and continued playing.
No one saw me and, for some reason, I never told anyone. It was like, “Oh well, I didn’t drown. No big deal”
God, again
I remember Mama telling me about God, and the effect it had on me afterward. I don’t remember exactly what she said except there was something about all the great and wonderful things God made and did.
What I do remember is the wonderful way it made me feel.
That would stay with me for several days, and then I’d sense it beginning to wear off.
So, I’d go to Mama and ask her to tell me about God again. She did. It worked. Thanks Mama.
Dusting off
In the mid-1930's dust storms, drought, and the Great Depression took their toll on farmers and related industry.
Mama and Dad drove west to see if they could find a more economically compatible place to live.
I knew they would see mountains. (See Trek 08 “West to the Mountains”)
I’d never seen one and had no conception of what they were really like -- just big hills, I thought.
I asked Mama to take a picture of Dad standing at the foot of a mountain so I could see how high the mountain was.
Home on the Range
Well, they did bring back some pictures but guess they couldn’t find a mountain that would fit in the camera lens.
Soon, we had a sale of some of our possessions, loaded up the rest, and headed west.
Mama’s pretty ivory enamel range was a casualty.
When we made the first stop, the panel with a shelf that stood on the back of the range, was gone.
It had been tied to the top of the load, but now lay along the roadside somewhere in Montana.
The range itself was still in good condition and stayed with us for several more years.
Dad, you’d get a ticket for that today.
Layover at Lakeside
I don’t remember much else about this actual move, but our next home was in Burke, Idaho.
As I recall, this trip was made in the Auburn, pulling a big four-wheel trailer Dad built from our old Essex.
Chronology is a little uncertain here, but I believe it was on this trip that we stopped overnight
at Lakeside, Montana, on Flathead Lake. We stayed in a large cabin right on the Lake shore.
This cabin would later be our home for a short time.
(See “Lakeside” between “Burke” and “Gem”)
I remember Mama telling me about God, and the effect it had on me afterward. I don’t remember exactly what she said except there was something about all the great and wonderful things God made and did.
What I do remember is the wonderful way it made me feel.
That would stay with me for several days, and then I’d sense it beginning to wear off.
So, I’d go to Mama and ask her to tell me about God again. She did. It worked. Thanks Mama.
Dusting off
In the mid-1930's dust storms, drought, and the Great Depression took their toll on farmers and related industry.
Mama and Dad drove west to see if they could find a more economically compatible place to live.
I knew they would see mountains. (See Trek 08 “West to the Mountains”)
I’d never seen one and had no conception of what they were really like -- just big hills, I thought.
I asked Mama to take a picture of Dad standing at the foot of a mountain so I could see how high the mountain was.
Home on the Range
Well, they did bring back some pictures but guess they couldn’t find a mountain that would fit in the camera lens.
Soon, we had a sale of some of our possessions, loaded up the rest, and headed west.
Mama’s pretty ivory enamel range was a casualty.
When we made the first stop, the panel with a shelf that stood on the back of the range, was gone.
It had been tied to the top of the load, but now lay along the roadside somewhere in Montana.
The range itself was still in good condition and stayed with us for several more years.
Dad, you’d get a ticket for that today.
Layover at Lakeside
I don’t remember much else about this actual move, but our next home was in Burke, Idaho.
As I recall, this trip was made in the Auburn, pulling a big four-wheel trailer Dad built from our old Essex.
Chronology is a little uncertain here, but I believe it was on this trip that we stopped overnight
at Lakeside, Montana, on Flathead Lake. We stayed in a large cabin right on the Lake shore.
This cabin would later be our home for a short time.
(See “Lakeside” between “Burke” and “Gem”)
West to the Mountains
Other Eastern Montanan's had moved to Western Montana, and reported that it was ‘good.’
The 1940 census lists James R. Turner as ‘farmer’ and Earl as ‘farm laborer’ at Kalispell,
with their 1935 residence as Richland County (the homestead).
I had heard that some of these Kalispell ‘pioneers’ had found steady work at the Cherry Warehouse,
which stood a block west of Main Street by the tracks, where the Kalispell Mall is now.
Much later (1950's or 60's), it was commented that Dad had said, regarding leaving Eastern Montana:
“We've lost enough babies here.”
Apparently they took an exploratory trip to the ‘mountains’ (around the Flathead Valley) to visit and to evaluate the territory.
See Trek 08 "West to the Mountains." They approved and moved soon after.
Other Eastern Montanan's had moved to Western Montana, and reported that it was ‘good.’
The 1940 census lists James R. Turner as ‘farmer’ and Earl as ‘farm laborer’ at Kalispell,
with their 1935 residence as Richland County (the homestead).
I had heard that some of these Kalispell ‘pioneers’ had found steady work at the Cherry Warehouse,
which stood a block west of Main Street by the tracks, where the Kalispell Mall is now.
Much later (1950's or 60's), it was commented that Dad had said, regarding leaving Eastern Montana:
“We've lost enough babies here.”
Apparently they took an exploratory trip to the ‘mountains’ (around the Flathead Valley) to visit and to evaluate the territory.
See Trek 08 "West to the Mountains." They approved and moved soon after.