Winter Weather

We had a cold, snowy winter in Stanford.  I was advised to fit the car with a head bolt heater.  This device places an electrode in the oil pan and when plugged into 110 volts A. C. it  warmed up the oil and allow the engine to turn over easier.  These are used in Montana were it gets below minus 20 degrees in the winter,  It is the same process we used on the old ranch truck with the pan of burning ashes placed under the oil pan but a head bolt heater is a safer process.

Our plan was to go to the ranch for Thanksgiving and Saint John for Christmas.  As we left for the ranch two days before Thanksgiving we encountered a snow storm that was blowing horizontal across the highway.  It created the condition known as “white out”.  It was impossible to see where you were going and the only way to stay on the highway was to roll down the window and watch the edge of the road.  That made it very cold, so we pulled off the road as soon as possible.  As the storm subsided and evening came it improved visibility tremendously.  It made us late in arriving at mom’s home, but she was expecting us and it worked out fine.  We all went to the ranch the next day for a big thanksgiving dinner.  That was the first time Marie had met all my family.  Dorothy had started community college and was going to teach after two years.  On leaving, to return to Stanford we went out to Mary and John’s ranch to see them and Mark, and we asked about the expected baby.  Mary said all was going fine and the new baby was expected in mid December.   By driving north from there to Jordan and taking the east/west highway through the center of the state it took us directly to Stanford.  This early snow storm put white frosting on all the mountains around Stanford and stayed that way for the rest of the winter.

I had a chance to reassure grandpa while at the ranch that I would be towing the Ford back to him from Cheney in the spring.  He was relieved as he supposed it had been traded in on the new car.


* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill. 

Special Visit

  

“Surprise!, Surprise!”; Eva, Maries mother, called out as she came up the walk.  We had noticed the familiar car slowly pull around the corner and park at the end of the walk.  Marie let out a gasp and started straightening up the front room.  I went to the front door and let them in.  Arnie was all grins and Eva was talking a mile a minute.  Their excuse for driving over to see us just a month and a half since we left their place was, “to bring over a few things you had forgotten”.  That explanation didn’t hold water with Marie.  She suspected as I did that they wanted to check on how we were living.  They had rented a motel room down by the highway entrance and had looked around town some before coming by to surprise us.  Marie bluntly asked how long they were going to stay.  Arnie replied they would like to look around at the country a little so probably a couple days.

Eva wanted to unload the car which held a wealth of wedding presents.  This changed the focus of the discussion as the thrill of opening presents took over.  All of Marie’s relatives had left their gifts with Eva.  Because of the late notice, they had no time to purchase a present and bring it to the wedding.  It was getting toward evening so I asked Marie if she wanted me to start dinner.  Eva announced she had put together a little something that was in the ice chest in the car.  She asked if I would mind bringing it in.  We soon had a cold casserole in the oven and plates of home made bread, vegetables, and cookies on the table.  I put on some coffee water and as we finished the unwrapping of presents the casserole warmed and filled the kitchen with mouth watering fragrance.

I could tell Arnie was enjoying his road trip.  He related a conversation he had with a service station attendant.  He had asked, jokingly what all the white things were out in some of the fields, knowing full well they were boulders.  The service station attendant, only slightly younger than Arnie, responded, that they were fertilizer.  Then Arnie wanted to know why there was a worker in one of the fields, picking up the fertilizer.  The attendant was quick to respond that the guy that owned that field must be gone and that worker is stealing his fertilizer.  Both men had a good laugh over their exchange.

It was the weekend, so we went for a ride with them and visited along the way.  I felt comfortable with them now.  I sensed they had decided we were going to make it, and the community and residents weren’t too different from Saint John.  They packed and left early Monday morning for Washington State.

It was a delicious meal, enjoyed by almost all.  When I glanced at Marie she looked uncomfortable and I had to excuse ourselves to take her back to the apartment.  I’m not sure what every one thought about our quick exit.  Our thanks were expressed as was regret we had to leave so suddenly.  There may have been speculation that Marie was pregnant.  I felt very sure that wasn’t the problem as we were taking measures to delay a couple years until we were more settled and could afford a baby.  However, it evolved that it was longer than that before we were able to have our first child


* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill. 

Fire

Fire 

Early one morning we were awaken by the sound of sirens and flashing lights.  Coming through our many windows with sheet curtains, the lights painted the walls of our apartment with moving hues of red.  We scrambled out of bed to see what was going on and if we were in any kind of danger.  All activity was centered on the building directly across the street.  It was a church, a Lutheran church I believe.  We had been laying low, not interested in joining a church just yet.  When we did make that commitment we would like it to be a serious decision, one we would plan to keep over time.  We discussed my job, this location, the pay and future of Industrial Arts in my assignment.   The conclusion was we might look for a better job next year.

Now that the church was burning, it seemed like a sign, but I think not.  Finally the fire was brought under control and gradually the men and equipment moved away.  We got back in bed and tried to sleep, but it was difficult after all the excitement.   I had classes that morning so couldn’t sleep in.  When the alarm clock went off I was about to nod off.  Everyone at school was excited about the big fire.  I guess it didn’t happen too often.  I looked at the church when I left the apartment, but couldn’t see a lot of damage.  The story at school was that the floor was being refinished and an upright sander had collected the sanding dust which had high varnish content, and it hadn’t been dumped at the end of the day.  The fire started by spontaneous combustion.  I used the fire and its cause as discussion in my Industrial Arts class.  It made a good lesson and the students showed interest.

* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill. 

A Wilson Dinner

When the Stanford job was finalized I had heard that this was the home of Uncle Eric’s folks.  I hadn’t given it much thought, with all the rush and activity of the wedding and the start of school.  One fall Sunday we were invited to the Wilsons for dinner.  Aunt Alma and Uncle Eric were there visiting, so we accepted and asked for the address.  We were told it was two houses up the street from our apartment, toward the school and on the opposite side. This was another “small world happening” that I ceased to be amazed by.  Aunt Alma and Uncle Eric were special relatives to me.  They always seemed in control of their lives and fun to be around.  We had a good visit before dinner and caught up on what their girls, Lenore and Marlene were doing.  Mr. Wilson had settled in Stanford as a young man and developed a farm where Eric helped as he grew older.  Winter wheat was the favored crop because of the short growing season.  Initial preparation of the land for farming included removal of many boulders strewn around the field.  These had been dropped by the prehistoric ice glacier as it receded to the north.  Early farmers hauled the boulders to the edge of their land and dumped them in the fence row.  Uncle Eric had wanted to teach, so combining his experience on the farm with that desire he found the compatible mix in the university extension services.  He was presently working for Montana State University at Bozeman.  He asked me what my long range plans were and if I ever considered getting into Ag education.  I shared my high school Ag experience, which I had enjoyed, with him, but indicated the Industrial Arts was more in line with my desire to create things.  At that point dinner was called.

It was a delicious meal, enjoyed by almost all.  When I glanced at Marie she looked uncomfortable and I had to excuse ourselves to take her back to the apartment.  I’m not sure what every one thought about our quick exit.  Our thanks were expressed as was regret we had to leave so suddenly.  There may have been speculation that Marie was pregnant.  I felt very sure that wasn’t the problem as we were taking measures to delay a couple years until we were more settled and could afford a baby.  However, it evolved that it was longer than that before we were able to have our first child

* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill. 

Teaching

The year at Stanford grade school started smoothly due to the competence of its teachers, most of who had been there many years.  The experience of principle Bill was valuable too.  He was easy to get along with and worked closely with the teachers and the curriculum.  I appreciated his help in getting started and I enjoyed the children.  They were country kids for the most part and hadn’t developed the sassy attitude I remembered of some Washington Grade School kids I had known when I attended the eighth grade in Miles City.  I was able to keep up with the math classes by doing my homework evenings, and survived social studies.  The problem area for me was Industrial Arts.   It was held in the basement where a massive amount of old furniture was stored.  There were few tools to work with and no supplies.  Bill said I had a small budget to purchase startup supplies. 

I decided we would work with small projects after studying a unit on the main tools and construction methods.  Thinking back to my experience in eighth grade Industrial Arts with Mr. Metros, I felt the students needed to get their hands on a project, early in the class to hold their interest.  We used the wood from old desks for three piece book ends.  Vertical and horizontal pieces of wood were held together with screws which challenged most of the students. The third piece of wood was placed in the middle of the two pieces as a brace and could be designed by the student as a dog, horse head, etc.  I made a sample for them to follow, or modify as long as they didn’t completely change the assignment.  Most of them copied my model exactly.  A few had the creativity to work a different design into the third brace piece.  We got off to a good start until our basement shop cooled down as the fall weather turned cold.  Work we glued fell apart when clamps were removed the next day.  It was a valuable lesson for everyone and the solution was to put our glued projects in the furnace room to dry.

* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.  

On the Job-Stanford

Our little motel room was a good staging point in our search for Stanford rental prospects.   We were eating “in” to conserve the few funds we had.  Warming coffee water or soup on an electric iron positioned upside down was one creative approach to fine dinning.  I haven’t been able to eat sandwich spread on bread since those days.  We had the room rented for three days and that left us one more day to secure a rentalWe had taken our time on the drive back enjoying the swing through Yellowstone Park and getting to know each other better.  Once the job started our lives would be full of activity and less of home life.  When we pulled in to Stanford and parked by a grocery store Marie ducked her head.  She didn’t want to be seen by someone walking by.  It turned out it was a fellow she knew in Saint John.  Call that a small world “happening”; we had just arrived hundreds of miles from Saint John and there he was.  I didn’t know why she didn’t want him to see her.  A lot of people would have been out there flagging him down as a kindred soul in this far away land.  I didn’t ask and it never came up.

A Stanford Home

This was our lucky day.  We got a lead on a large old house close to the schools that had apartments for rent.  We found there was only one unrented apartment left and it was a modification of a large enclosed porch and kitchen area. The porch area was converted into a living room and bedroom with a hid-a-bed sofa.  The enclosed porch was all windows, so it had nice light, but little privacy.  It was just a short walk to the grade school and the price was right, so considering the time limit on our search for a home we took it.  The furnishings were minimal but adequate for us as a start.  We paid a months rent in advance and picked up the key. After unloaded everything we started organizing our space.  Marie hung sheets over windows in the bedroom area, but we still had to turn off lights for total privacy.  As we finalized the apartment decoration it beginning to look like a home with personal items distributed around.  We were happy with it.

* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.  

Dear Hunting

Deer Hunting 

     Dear hunting season opened with the arrival of fall weather.  I was told the hunting was good in most areas around Stanford and particularly in the foot hills of the Belt Mountains.  Marie and I decided to try to bag a deer to help out with our food bill.  I had the rifle I used on the ranch, so we bought a deer tag and drove out in the hills early Saturday morning.  We were surprised at how few people we saw hunting.  I checked the date on the tag to be sure; yes the season was open.  The next surprise was the number of deer we saw.  Several jumped across the road ahead of us as we drove to the foot hills where they were starting to gather in small herds. 

     The area was open for either buck or doe.  We sneaked up a canyon toward one herd, similar to my hunting experience in the alfalfa field on the ranch.  There was little cover to hide our approach, but because of the terrain we were able to get close enough to try a shot.  We were crawling the last few yards to get as close as possible, so I rested the gun over my arm that was supported on the ground.  That made a good steady rest for the shot, but the distance was greater than I thought and the bullet struck at their feet.  They started to mill around as they didn’t know where the sound had come from.  This gave me the chance to get off another round.  This time the shot downed what I thought was a young buck but when we got to the fallen animal it was a large, barren doe.  After field dressing the animal I drug it down to the car which seemed a lot farther than the distance of our trip up the canyon.

     When we arrived at the apartment, I sought out the landlord and asked if I might hang the deer in a shed beside the house to cure.  She said that would be alright as it was an old garage, but no one used it anymore.  She cautioned me not to leave a mess in it.  We rented a freezer locker and filled it with wrapped packages of venison.  Later that fall the game department issued a second tag to hunters because of the over population of deer in the area.  We hunted the same area several times before we bagged our second deer.  We lived on venison all winter and it was good.

* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.  

The Wedding

.

The Wedding   

      

     The day was perfect that August 20, 1955, but I would never have known.  There was so much going on that weather reports were irrelevant.  I was getting married today!  There was a slight rumble of trouble from Marie who suspected Eva of informing the relatives of the location and time of the wedding.   Eva brushed it off and didn’t allow the conversation to continue.  Everyone got dressed in their best and as Arnie and Eva drove out of the yard we scurried to get last minute things loaded into the Ford which included a two gallon can of water for our leaking car.   

    
















     Our time was short and a train was passing in front of us at Cheney.  The engineer didn’t realize of course that the delay was making us later for our wedding and his train seemed to barely creep along until finally the caboose rolled clear of the crossing.  The minute the cross arms were up we were off and up the hill to the church arriving about ten minutes late.  No one would believe a lame excuse like “we were held up by a train”.  That didn’t matter.  We entered the church and Marie caught sigh of all the relatives in attendance.  It was a tense moment and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had bolted for the door. I guess she realized her mother had put one over on her and there wasn’t a graceful way out of it now.  The ceremony went smoothly.  Dewey even had the ring ready when needed.  A photographer was present to take pictures and then a short reception followed where I met Marie’s relatives.

     They all seemed like interesting people and Marie was exchanging conversations with them, but we both wanted to get on the road, so with goodbye and thank you to everyone we hastened out with Esther.  Dewey had his car ready to whisk us to Esther’s parent’s places and our get-a-way car. Dewey had guarded our car from any attempt by others to decorate it, but he couldn’t resist the chance to get me one last time.  We drove off with a well decorated vehicle covered with messages.  I would have to think of ways to get Dewey when the chance presented itself.  He was my best friend and a super Best Man.  Our goodbyes were warm and spoke of continued contact.  It was getting late, so we headed for Montana, but not before stopping at a service station and washing all the windows.

 *Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

A Wedding Present

 A Wedding Present   

     The next day started out better.  Everyone was working together to get things ready.  The church was available on Saturday of the week, so we could travel back to Stanford as planned.  We decided on an early afternoon ceremony with a short reception afterward and then leave on our honeymoon drive to Stanford.  Arnie had been gone most of the morning and when he returned he asked us to ride with him to Cheney.  He said he had a wedding present in mind, but needed us to help make a decision. 

            

     The trip seemed short and he had us guessing when he pulled up at Brown and Holder Chevrolet.  He led us into the show room, gesturing toward a new automobile and asked if it would be all right as a wedding gift.  It was a red and white1956 Bel Air.  I had never seen a more beautiful car.  We both thanked him repeatedly and Marie gave him a hug.  His logic came out in the question, ”now will you come and see us sometime?” I also saw his concern about our travel in the old Ford disappear.  I knew I had to get the Ford back to Grandpa, but that would be a job for another time.  It was going to be such a thrill traveling back in that beautiful new car.

     Mr. Brown, the owner had been watching from the side lines with a broad grin.  He approached us and said the car could be picked up tomorrow.  They would service it now and have it ready.  As we shook hands he congratulated me and said he would miss watching me on the basketball court.  That caught me by surprise and I thanked him.  I learned later Arnie was a long time customer of Brown & Holder.  Mr. Brown must have given Arnie a good reference about me.

     We worked out a plan for the day of the wedding which was to park the Bel Air at the bride’s maid parent’s home which was close to the church.  We would bring the Ford from Saint John to the wedding, loaded with all of our belongings.  After the ceremony and short reception the contents of the Ford would be moved to the Bel Air and off we would go leaving the Ford parked to be retrieved later.  There was the hope that by keeping the Bel Air out of sight it wouldn’t get the traditional decoration.  Dewey had agreed to act as best man and his girlfriend Esther agreed to serve as maid of honor.  Marie had become friends with her on our college outings.  Dewey said he would help move cars and luggage.

     The plan was coming together and the church was taking care of the reception.  Marie and I had to run to Spokane to pick up the ring we had chosen and placed on lay-away last spring.  The Ford was leaking more and became hot on the way.  With no service station in sight I had to resort to filling the radiator from a small stream that passed under the road.  It was a thrill to see the ring on Marie’s finger, but it had to go back in the box which I kept in my pocket until presented at the ceremony.   We had the same water problem on the way back which was by way of Cheney.  Marie moved the Bel Air over to our friend Esther’s parent’s house in preparation for the car switch the following day, our wedding day!  It was a short distance from Brown and Holder to Esther’s parents, but I could tell the drive was a thrill for Marie.  I tagged along with the Ford and after a short visit with Esther we continued our drive to Saint John.

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.

A Family Discussion

A Family Discussion 

The day started at a quiet breakfast table and the small talk never once came close to, “why was I there”.  Shortly after the meal Marie and her dad were having a heated discussion out side on the lawn.  I watched through the window for a few minutes and then decided I had to do something, so I opened the door and walked out to the couple.  I don’t remember the exact words, but I indicated if they were talking about me and plans to marry Marie, I felt I should be in on the discussion.  Things cooled a little and Arnie expressed his concern about letting his daughter go off into the world without an established wage earner and no designated place to live in a car that needed fixing.  I could see his concern, particularly with his protective nature.  We talked for quite sometime and laid our plans out on the table.  Eventually he came around to accepting the idea that his daughter had reached the age of marriage, setting up her own home and raising a family.  As he got to know me, he realized I wasn’t just an opportunist taking advantage of his daughter.

Then the next shoe dropped.  Marie hadn’t made arrangements for the church, a reception or announcements.  I got the impression she wasn’t that sure it was going to happen.  My letters during the summer had been filled with positive ideas and comments about the coming wedding.  I had to give her the benefit of the doubt.  She may have had an experience in her life where her hopes were dashed that made her suspicious of it happening again.  We put that all aside and got to the problems that needed to be solved.   We joked about the easiest solution was just to elope, but her mother, Eva would have nothing to do with that idea.  She wanted her daughter to have a church wedding that would be a memory as time went on.  Marie was dead set against inviting the relatives on Eva’s side and there were none on Arnie’s side, so that put it back to a church wedding with immediate family.  Eva badly wanted her brother and sisters to be there, but Marie promised to boycott the event if they showed up.  I could tell Eva would continue to try to convince Marie to give in on this issue.  In the meantime Arnie had accepted our plan and was doing what he could to help. It had been quite a day and I was back on the sofa that night.

* Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.  

Marriage Plans

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.

Life after College

Life after College

The summer of 1955 held a fast series of events that I have trouble remembering in detail.  There was plenty to do on the ranch and it seemed hotter weather than usual.  Dad’s trailer had been moved back to the ranch and parked beside his little house.  I used it as my bunk house which offered a degree of privacy and by opening the window on one end and the door on the other, it was like sleeping in a wind tunnel.  I was writing at least one letter a week to Marie.  There were so many things we hadn’t had time to work out such as details of the wedding, choice of best man and who she wanted as her maid of honor.  I thought it would be great to have Dewey as our best man if he was available.  Then there was the date of the wedding and if we were going to plan a reception afterward.  Of course so much still depended on where and when I found a job.

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.

Getting a Job

Getting a Job

I kept scanning the job notices as they came in each week.  If there was a job that looked even remotely suitable I sent an application letter off in the next mail run.  I was on the road to the post office more often than ever before.  A table, chair and kerosene lamp like we used when going to school at Tusler were the basis of my bunk house office.  I had a Montana map and writing materials and spent long hours pouring over the job lists and locating each on the map.  It seemed that most of the jobs were for elementary school positions and hardly any of them mentioned Industrial Arts teaching.  I applied for five or six jobs that looked promising.  None were in the Miles City area however.  As responses to my application started to come in I realized how important it was to have some one on the inside to help identify the right job.  The placement director at Eastern did that for graduates looking for a job in Washington State. 

Most responses were to let me know the job had been filled.  The one that asked me to give the principal a phone call was a grade school at Stanford, Montana. The closest phone was at the Brink’s ranch so I drove down and asked if I might use their phone.  I explained what I was doing and Mrs. Brink was very cooperative.  She had been a school teacher and knew the process it took to find a job.

 I made my call and talked to the Principal of Stanford Elementary School.  The outcome of our conversation was that he would like me to take the job.  It included teaching math and social studies to seventh and eight grades, coaching basketball and starting an industrial arts class.  The salary was $3600.00 for the school year.  It was hard to tell the situation from a phone call, but I didn’t have any other options at this point and it was getting late in the summer.  As mentioned, most other responses I received from my applications had already filled their vacancies.  I told the principal I would take the job.  He would put a contract in the mail and we agreed I would drive up several weeks before school started.

Mrs. Brink was as happy as I with the successful job contract.  She knew the location of Stanford and said it was a fairly good sized town with wheat farming and livestock being chief industries in the area.  I hadn’t seen the Brinks since Tusler days so we had catching up to do.  I offered to pay her for the phone call, but she wouldn’t accept it on the ground that was what neighbors were for.  I thanked her and left with a promise to help her or the family in the future.  They were good neighbors.

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.

Introduction-Volume 2

Volume 2 starts with a new chapter in my life; I enter the world of work as a first year teacher, as a husband and hopefully, as a father.  Establishing a home is a rewarding and shared task that requires new skills and knowledge.  As a review of how I reached this point, Volume 1 of “Which Road Should I Follow?” subtitled “Growing up in the Country”, has traced my roots in the Hill and Wilder families.  Accounts of my childhood start with first memories of life on Grandpa’s dry-land ranch and continue through seventh grade in a small country school.  The move to Miles City, Montana for continuation of education through high school triggered questions of what profession should I plan to pursue.  

The ranch life has been a pleasant experience for me with increasing responsibilities but also an awareness of the ranch's limited opportunity as a successful job cite.  As I experienced more education, a desire to continue learning became more important.  When given the opportunity to attend college on a basketball scholarship, I didn’t hesitate even though the college was a long train ride from Miles City.

My four years at Eastern Washington College of Education determined my professional goal and equipped me to enter the field of education.  As this story unfolds in Volume 2 , my opportunities for new roles and responsibilities as an educator expands, presenting me with numerous, ongoing decisions as to my professional development.  You could argue, I didn’t always choose the right road, but at the conclusion of my professional carrier I am satisfied with the results and proud of my role in Education.

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.