Classical Music + Relaxing Nature sounds

TAXI, TAXI.

                             Taxi, Taxi.
In the early 1970's we, (Donna Cynthia and I) moved to Seattle from Klamath falls Or. and moved in with my brother Jerry and his family. Work was scarce and we all scraped to stay fed etc.I cant remember if it was an ad in the paper or how we got wind of an opportunity to stave off hunger. It turned out that the owner of a service station owned a taxi cab and needed to operate it 24 hours a day.
     Enter Jerry Bell and Bob Bell. We were to operate it as if it were ours with a percentage of the income to be given to the owner. Can't remember the percentage but remember it was fair to us.
We each operated the cab 12 hours changing as we needed.
    This gave us a job , an income, and a vehicle to use. All went well for a year or more that we were in the Taxi business And decided to move to Bellingham our hometown.

   During one of my night shifts I had a male passenger that wanted to go to a bar in south Seattle, by the way our Cab was called 'South Town Cab' our call # was 45 we were given our customer address from a dispatch service in downtown Seattle. As I turned into the bar and parked to let the Gent out he pulled a knife and wanted some cash. I thought to myself 'something is wrong here' I'm the one should get cash

   Before I continue I need to tell you that during my many nightime shifts I became friends with 'Red'
I never knew his last name, Just 'Red'. Oh! I almost forgot, he Was with the King County Sheriff Dept.

   Now back to 'knife man', he was quite drunk and his knife was a pocket knife, but a real knife.I said "if you get out I will give you what I have" he opened the door and fell down, I quickly shut and locked the door and called dispatch. telling them my situation, the knife man was standing alongside my cab jabbering something when a Sheriff Car screeched to a halt alongside bandit man.

 Red was not only a big man but very, very intimidating to those that didn't know him.

  "Are you okay he asked me" "he hasn't paid his fare yet" Well lets see what we can do Red told me and frisked the man that he had in hand cuffs and lo and behold I got my fare plus a little.

I found out that Red was tuned in to the Taxis frequency and was nearby when I made the call.

Asked why I didn't drive away when i closed the door on him, I think I said He hadn't paid me yet.

A Blizzard at Bell Creek

One evening during the winter in the early thirties (I was probably about seven years old). It had been snowing off and on all day, and now it was being accompanied by strong winds.
All of us kids went to bed early, I suppose it was so we could stay warm.
Our upper floor (gained by climbing 5 or 6 steps) was where all of the young ones slept. Mom and dad slept in the one downstairs bedroom with the youngest one (baby) ( Betty I think).
Before midnight the blizzard was blowing snow through the eaves and perhaps some of the roof shingles.Anyway, it was snowing on our beds.
Mom and Dad got us all bundled up and away we went to Grampa bells house, about a half mile or so distance.
For us Kids it was truly an adventure because we were all put up in cozy little places to sleep at our Grandpa bell's home.

P.S. Our log cabin home didn't suffer much, just had to wait for the intruder (the sifting snow) to go away 

                                Crazy Alice
Here is one of my favorite memories that took place during my early teens at our ' Samish Valley' home.
The farm across the road,lay on an upper level which required some effort to get to. But there was a cherry tree in the orchard up there that made the effort worth it.
The cherries from that tree were so sweet and thinking back now, having to 'sneak' up there to get them is probably what gave them their extra 'goodness'.
The farmer and his wife were quite elderly so you'd think 'no problem' sneaking up there after dark.
Not quite! this old couple that owned the farm had a daughter 'Alice" who had just returned from a stay in an asylum.( the reason she was referred to as 'Crazy Alice'.

This too is why we decided to creep up there after dark.
We (several of us boys) were up in the tree stuffing down cherries, when a voice from below said "Hey!  there" throw me down some.
We were all giving our apologies at the same time when she gestured saying "you can have all you want come anytime".
She 'Alice' turned out to be a very nice lady, with no sign of being crazy.

Guess,What?,After the invite to the cherries at any time we wished, they didn't taste any better than the ones from our own orchard.

Remembering the Camping trips

When the the four of us older boys (Jack, Dick, Bob, Jim) were able to navigate the mountain trails
we did a lot of camping . Most of our trips were to the good fishing lakes. The first big trek was with our Dad. we carried every thing on our backs and the loads were not light. It was up along the Canadian border and ended way down in a ravine to a lake that had "land locked" salmon. We feasted on fish like  never again. It was a paradise camp. The trail was miles long and I still today think we were lucky to have not encountered "Big Bears".I will now skip to the Trip that my Dad took us four older boys  on in 1947 . We were all back from our WW11 service and discharged from the Navy (except Jim) he hadn't joined the marines as yet.
We were packed in by a local man with several horses. Again we walked (hiked) all the way to a lake in Canada called "Mirror Lake". what a wonderful time we all had celebrating our being home from the service and all being in one piece.

one of the faded pics show Dad,on the right next Bob. next, Dick and Jim on the left.

Blizzard at Bell creek
One evening during the Winter in the early thirties (I was probably about seven years old) the snow that had been falling all day was being accompanied by some strong winds.
All of us kids went to bed early, probably to keep warm.
Our upper floor(gained by climbing 5 or 6 steps was where all of the young ones slept except the baby who  shared the downstairs bedroom with mom and dad.
Sometime before midnight the blizzard was blowing snow through the eves and some of the roof shakes. Anyway it was snowing on our beds.
dad and mom got us  all bundled up and away we went Grandpa Bells place, about a mile distance.
For Me (and the other siblings) it was an "Adventure" because we were all put in cozy little places to sleep at our Grandpa Bells' place.

P.S. Our log cabin home did not suffer too bad, just had to wait for the visitor (the snow) to go away.

 

Watching a steam "donkey" being built from the ground up.
While growing up at Bell Creek, I and my two older brothers were able to see a steam donkey (logging) being built from start to finish. I remember that the two men doing the work were friendly and didn't mind us being around.
As near as i can remember the two skids (runners) were logs about 30ft. long and about 3ft. in diameter.
Each end of the logs were tapered up (all by hand) and all with an ax.This enabled it to travel like a sled. The two logs were connected by big planks to support the steam boiler the housing covering the winches that contained the cable. When it was completed, the engine (steam powered) turned the winch (operated by one of the men pulling the cable in (which had been secured to a tree) up the direction they wanted to go.Pulling the cable in caused the sled to go up to the point where the cable was then secured further up the hill, thus the steam donkey would eventually reach the top of the area that they intended to log.

Note:This type of enjoyment for us boys cannot be described by just words. Our (mine) life was filled with treasured happenings that makes me grateful that I have been (above money) wealthy my whole life.
Thanks for enduring me again. I will be back

   

For what it's worth
A few years ago I read an article about an Asian woman ( don't remember what country) that was diagnosed with cancer. Being very poor and not able to afford medicine, or any kind of treatment, she had to "tough it out by herself".
One night she felt hotter than usual and knew her temperature was extremely high. She went to sleep, with her family worried and expecting the worse as the night passed.
when she awoke the next morning she felt her temperature and sickness was gone.
The cancer never came back, and she, and her family believe that the high temperature must have killed the cancer.
Enter now, Me.
When I was a teen at my Samish Valley home, All of us older boys did a lot of camping and hunting at one of the lakes on Chuckanut Mountain.We all had our rifles and loved the camping and hunting trips.
This one particular time we all decided to go I was "loaded" with a chest cold , head cold, and crappy flu.
I was not too healthy at that moment, but decided I would go anyway.
With backpacks loaded, and with our rifles slung on our backs we were off
We started up the mile or so trail that led to the top of Chuckanut Mountain.Over the last few years we had made this same trip many times. Because of its steepness the trail led a zigzag course and along the way there were certain landmarks that we had given names to. about a third of the way up was a big rock outcropping that we called( the elephants ear) further up was the "long" tressel that we crossed over a deep canyon. along the route too was a tall fir tree that we called the (blue grouse tree) we were "in the last few years" able to "harvest" several "blue" grouse birds usually using a 22 caliber rifle. once one fell from the top of the tree and as soon as it hit the ground the two of us "at that time" rushed over to the spot where it landed but never found the little "sneaker".
Back to my Story:
After an hour of steady hiking, and sweating (especially me this time) we reached the top of the mountain where we usually spent the night at the sight of the old Log camp. One of the buildings was a good shelter for us from cold and weather. 
Guess what ?? 
To put an end to my story, and to get my point across, I realized that i had gotten rid of my chest and head
cold and flu, and felt just great...........Evidently I had sweated it out of my body.

Thanks for reading this.

Hawaiian-fish and song story
Our family lived in the town of Bellingham for a few months between the move from Bell Creek to our Country (five acre "shangri-la") ranch in the Samish Valley. 
During the time we lived in Bellingham I was in the 6th grade class at Roeder School. My teacher was a ms. Hoag. Ms. Hoag spent her summer vacations in Hawaii. All of us (her class) were treated to bits of Hawaiian lore and a few songs that she taught us and sang as she played a Ukelele. I still remember parts of the songs. one was: 
(I wanna go back, to my little grass shack
In Kealakekua Hawaii 
Where the Humuhumhnukunukuapua'a
go swimming by.)
In the fall (1936) Ms. Hoag was back and most of her same class (me included) and we were treated to her summer vacation stories. She brought back some "Poi," a staple food in hawaii she told us, we all got to taste it and all I remember i it tasted like "mud". Another rememberance of that great time was Ms. Hoags' Favorite candy bar ( she would get one of us to go across the street to buy one) was a U-no bar.

PS
Now allow me to say "ALOHA"  Thanks for your reading this Blog...Love you

Which one looked forward (the most) to the next week.?
During my working years at the road dept. in Klamath Falls, Or. I was riding one day in a company Pickup with a fellow employee. we were travelling on the old State highway that ran through Modoc Point, and Fort Klamath, up to nearly Crescent Or.
Along one of the desolate strips of roadway we passed an abandoned, run down old house that sat back off by its lonely self. My friend, riding with me in the pickup,pointed to the old structure and said "I lived there when I was a young boy" He then went on to say that he has never forgotten the trucker that made deliveries to Klamath Falls once a week passing his house nearly the same time and the same day each trip.
I would stand by the side of the road to watch him go by. Mainly because he would toss a small bundle near me which always contained some candy. I would wave to the driver while scurrying to get the package.
This gesture of kindness I'll always remember, and how exciting when that day of the week approached.

P.S.
When he finished his story I couldn't help but wonder, Which one of them looked "most" to the next trip.

Praise =Pull = Fun.
My oldest brother' Jack, was always the biggest and strongest of the rest of us brothers. We looked forward to his being the "Boss". When we were small boys, Jack 10, Dick 9, Bob 8, Jim 7 we enjoyed being pulled in our wagon.With acres of terrain to enjoy at our Bell Creek home we, the "riders" found (by accident) a way to get our free Wagon ride. During one of his "pulls" Jack stopped and looked back at us in the wagon and said "You guys don't even like me for pulling you" We all said,at once " Oh yes we sure do", "You are so strong to be able to pull us like you do" Say no more, Jack could pull the loaded wagon all day knowing  we appreciated him doing it.
This little episode was remembered by us (riders) over the years and when I told of it to my wife Donna she thought it was a cute story and depicted it on the cover of the first art book she "authored" called "Paint and Tell". Published in 1981.
Jack (pulling) Dick and Bob (riding) Jim (pushing)...........{ pure fun}

 

1929 Model A Roadster, "Where are you"
In June 1942 I bought a Fun to drive,Fun to own, 1929 Red, Model A Ford Roadster with a Rumble Seat.
I actually bought it for transportation to my new Job with the Glacier (Washington) Ranger Station as a "fire lookout". I parked the car at the Ranger Station in the end of along shed that stored various equipment.
After my Summer term ended I came home without the car. (needed Battery, or needed gas,) Can't really remember. But before I could get it the 50 or 60 miles home I joined the Navy with my two older Brothers.
When i was discharged three years later there was no car to be found and nobody knew what might have happened to it. I just had to forget about it But, wish it had still been there, and i had it now.

Weiners for all, or One for all weiners.
Up behind our place in the Samish Valley was an old (abandoned) railroad grade. Ties and tracks were gone
but it was a nice level place to enjoy (get-togethers). there was a rope swing attached to a nearby tall fir tree and was one of our amusements to swing way out over everyone even the fire if we had one. Mainly just "hanging out" and being together was what we enjoyed most. Some nights we would have bon-fire parties.
On one particular night our group decided to have a "Weiner Roast".The evening progressed with  everyone having a good time,but after an hour or so most of us were ready to eat.There was always an abundance of sharpened sticks to use to roast the hot dogs (weiners), and each one was their own cook. The fire had burned down to perfect hot coals. Jack, my oldest brother went to to the place beneath a nearby log to "fetch" the big package of weiners. He let out a yell as he held up an empty wrapper and was scolding Thunder "our dog" who was waddling away and burping on the path back to the house.

Hard Candy, given to young boys.
Our aunt and uncle had a small store at the bridge (small bridge) crossing Bell Creek. The store front had a covered porch with a wooden bench on it. On that bench on nice days, our Uncle's mother would sit enjoying the outdoors, and passing cars (though very seldom), and the people who might be going by or coming to the store.Some of the people that passed by would be doing it on purpose, and that (people) was Me and my two brothers. We made sure "granny" was there before we passed even if it meant waiting awhile because she would always motion us to come over and from her pockets would produce a few of the old fashioned Christmas candy. These were great treats for us and the candies lasted a long time in your mouth. RIP Granny, miss your cand.. I mean, miss you. 

A door was opened, and an invitation came forth.
In 1930 the "Great depression" was one year old, and I was five years old. It would be another year until I could start first grade, but on this day I was a "visitor"at the Bell Creek school house. The School had eight grades in the one large room The rows of desks separated the different grades.It was a custom to invite the ones that would be starting the next term to spend a day with the current class.This day I would guess that there was at most twelve students representing all eight grades. Yes! a very small School..
In the front of the room was a large wood burning stove. The top was flat and a large pan of water was heated for all of the small jars of cocoa each one brought from home. Beyond the stove and the teachers desk was a back door that was used for anyone needing to go to the outhouse. The outhouse had two separate doors one for the boys section and one for the girls.
The morning session had started when the teacher went to the door to let some fresh air in or for some other reason, and as the door was cracked open the Sun flashed in on the wall and on the floor. 
I was sitting up front facing all of this and without hesitation I shouted out "Come on in, Mr. Sun"
Laughter, and Giggles followed my outburst (And a reminder of it followed me for sometime) from my brothers and some of the school friends.

Lots of flames, but luckily no fire.
At our log home at Bell Creek we didn't have electricity for the first few years. just "coal oil" (kerosene) lamps.I yet remember the pleasing smell of those burning lamps.And, not too surprising I have several in our home to enjoy looking at. Back now to the "flames". One Christmas I remember our tree (fir tree) was decorated by mostly homemade things like popcorn strung on string for decoration, and probably a small Santa or two, but for our lighting we had little clip-on candle holders with small Birthday size candles in them these were clipped to the outer end of the branches and when all done probably a dozen or more that we lit when we were ready to enjoy our Christmas Eve. In a wood (log) house with cedar shake roof it seems scary to me now. No worry I guess because outside of our back door was the pump that when primed would furnish water from the "well" below. Now, I'm really scared.
Another blog soon. see ya. 

He didn't pay, Or did he??
One nasty (rain and wind) night, at our samish valley home, there was a knock on our front door.
Now we had a fairly secluded place with no close neighbors so one of us opened the door and there 
stood a man, wet, and looking exhausted. He said his car was stuck off the side of the road about a half mile 
up the road. Said he needed help shoving it free and that he would pay us to help him. So us three oldest 
boys (in our early teens) but able bodied agreed to help him.Off we went to a short side road that we were familiar with ( used usually as a lovers lane) and yes his car was mired down in the rear in the rain soaked ground. The man (with his girl friend sitting beside him) started the car put in gear and as we three boys pushed from behind the car gained the firm ground and off he sped. We shouted at him driving away but
knew we were not getting paid. The in the light of our flashlight we spotted a very expensive coat, a top notch shovel, and a car jack that he tried to use to free himself. We were compensated for sure. But
we would never have charged him for our help. 

No Pig, No pork.
I will now explain the above 'caption" with the following narrative.In the early thirties at our log home my oldest brother "Jack" was given a little piglet to raise.Of course that meant future chops, bacon etc. which meant a lot to our big family during this depression era. Jack named the little fellow "rosie". He (jack) took the job of making a pen, and caring for it with feeding and water and a makeshift shelter. over the next few months "rosie" grew to a pretty good size and my Dad made plans to stop feeding the big "porker" and let it feed us .
In the process of carrying out this chore the pig darted out of the open gate of the pen and took off running.My Dad was quite fleet of foot also and nearly caught "rosie" more than once but the pig (they are not a dumb animal),perhaps knowing its fate raced towards the nearby river. It jumped in the river and that was the last we saw of "pork chops".

"The Warm Man" hide and seek game "spoiler"
One evening while we were living in our Bell Creek log home, two of our cousins were visiting and all of us kids, (grade school age) and younger too, were playing hide and seek. It was dark outside but the lights from the house made a few areas visible except the big shed where Our old lizzy (car) was stored and Misc. item in the back corners. These corners made for good hiding places so some of us took turns hiding there.
One of my cousins was the first to mention a feeling in one of the corners of a "Warm" sensation.One of my brothers piped up saying he felt like there was a person hiding there. None of us kids wanted to go to the back of the shed any more because of the "warm man" lurking there. We quit our game ,went inside, and  never mentioned it again.  

Horse whisperer (My Dad)
I am proud of the reputation my Dad had of his ability to handle a team of horses. It seemed as though he could bond with any he was around or owned. And he did own a team of percheron draft horses that were said to have been 18 hands high.(they were big). He used them for logging as that was what he did for a few years when I was quite young. at night he would rub them down with gunny sacks and also used a curry tool to use on their muscles.I remember him talking to them in a soothing tone as he gave them their after work rub down. Also in the morning he talked to them as he walked beside and between them in the stalls as he was putting on the harnesses.
One morning there was a huge commotion out at the barn. My dad hurried out to see what was going on and discovered the whole back of the barn had been kicked to pieces. (the section behind the horses.). he said when he came back to the house that a bear had made the mistake of wanting to have some horsemeat to eat.  More of Dad and horses later. bye