We were thru in the morning again but we sewed on sheets in
the afternoon until 3. I was on duty in the afternoon until six thirty. After
that George and I went for a walk until chased in by mosquitoes. Read then.
The first part of the month was rather trying with exams,
etc. But I certainly got rested up in Portland. I enjoyed staying with the
Hibbards. I only wish I had a good girl friend up here. Sometimes it gets
lonesome.
Jane's Notes: Doro did not return to the lake that summer.
George's letter home:
George's letter home:
Dear Mother,
Ann is with me now, and she enjoyed herself at our home very
much. She had a million things to tell me and as many more to ask me. We go for
a walk every evening, but the mosquitoes drive us back in a hurry. They are as
large as cows, and we battle them from morning to night.
Louis and I are back on our regular garbage job now, and we
have to haul it clear to government camp where there is no snow. I am so
sunburned that I smoke. You can see me coming a mile off. Just like a red
lighthouse with a white light shining from the top.
The snow is melting real fast now, and next week will
probably see the last of it. Bill Manning and I went down to the lake the other
evening on the snow. The trail is all closed up, and we attempted to go down a
steep canyon. It was filled with snow; and before we knew it we were sliding.
Just about as bad as Dad’s Irish friend on Mount Hood. Boy, I certainly thought
I had seen my last day. I cut my hands all up trying to stop, and I was soaked
to the skin when I finally did stop. After that, we worked our way down
gradually. Once at the water’s edge, we got in an old rowboat and had a little
sailor life for a change. Coming back, we found a cable stretched from the top
to the bottom in another canyon. We went up that, along with a host of
mosquitoes, and nearly died from weariness and such stuff. No more lake for
this kid, until the trail is opened up.
Business is terrible here also. Nobody comes and nobody
comes and old Price’s face gets dourer and sourer. This is my last summer here. I am tired of
working for someone whose eagle eye is constantly upon you watching for the
slightest mistake. I am going to write Uncle John and get him hot on a job with
the Dollar Line for next summer.
That’s all. If anything exciting happens around this dive, I
shall certainly tell you about it. I am rather pessimistic about excitement in
this country, however. Anne is the only reason that I can enjoy this place for
a second year. I don’t know what I would do without her; she makes all my
little trials so light.
Goodbye, “Mom”, Anne sends you her love
Love, Brother
Thanks to my wonderful sister Kaucyla Brooke, I now have images from this period. I hope to sprinkle them throughout the narrative.
Here's George (on the left) and his garbage truck from Crater Lake. I assume that is Louis that on the right:
Thanks to my wonderful sister Kaucyla Brooke, I now have images from this period. I hope to sprinkle them throughout the narrative.
Here's George (on the left) and his garbage truck from Crater Lake. I assume that is Louis that on the right:
