The cars

Yes, we also owned a PINTO Wagon. A baby playpen would just fit in the back. We would put the kids in the back in the playpen and say, "hang on" kids. If they tried to stand up, I would just wiggle the steering wheel or shift quick. Down they would go. I think C.P.S. might have something to say about that today. Still no car seat requirement then. I can remember walking around the in the back seat when I was growing up too. Wahoo, the Grewe kids are in the Pinto!

I am losing track of a few of our vehicles. We had a blue VW Bug when I picked up Gwen and a brand new baby we named Karson from Kaiser Hospital. No car seats back then. Gwen was just holding the baby. As I drove alongside an eighteen wheeler, we looked up under the truck, and down at our new little son. A bigger vehicle was needed. We sold the VW and bought the I.H. Scout 2. Karson was born October 19, 1975. Garian would follow October 17, 1977.

Our neighbor, Hal Daniels had his dad's (Asa ,an old patient from Dr. Woodwards) 1965 El Camino sitting in his front yard for quite some time. When Karson was working and had saved enough money, he struck a deal with Hal. We drove the car into yard and started the project. Karson and I worked our fingers to the bone getting this car ready for PROM night. Some of the paint was still wet as he drove away from the house.

We replaced most of the front end parts, the transmission, and disassembled and painted the whole car, in the garage.

For any guy, you could call this a labor of love. And for all us guys, this is one you should have kept.

This is the 1976 240D MBZ we bought for Garian. She worked with me replacing the engine after NOT keeping an eye on her fluids. Garian later on traded the MBZ in on the Eagle Talon. One very fast car for a little girl. I took it over later and used it to commute from Shingle Springs to Georgetown. (Growersburg Camp) Very fun commute car on twisty roads.

I'm still missing a few cars that we have owned. I will post them as I find them. Gwen and I bought this pickup from Harrell Motors in Placerville to tow a small trailer, which we bought for $350. from Gale Jacksons' parents, to Oklahoma to visit her mom and relatives. It was June of 1977. Karson was eighteen months old. Garian was due in Oct. With a little boy, a pregnant wife, we stopped in Oklahoma City and had air conditioning put in.

After putting the pickup body on a 1963 3/4 ton chassis I painted the truck and bought a camper from Idle Wheels.We went camping a few times.

I bought this rolling chassis, a 1934 Chevy 5 window. Sold it and a ski boat to buy the sail boat.

We sold our 1977 Scout 2 and bought a 1965 Datsun. Ours was blue. Way too small a truck. Karson sat between us and would kick us into neutral as we were going down the road.

This is Gwen's second Astro Van. We are on our third now. We had sold Gwen's first Astro and bought two MBZ's. A 1976 for Garian, and a 1974 for Gwen. Both diesels.

Gwen had this Chevy Nova when we were married. I replaced a whole bunch of front end parts. Maybe we should have kept this one. this pic was taken at our 1st. house on Meder Rd where Karson and Katrina live now. Shrade's are still the landlord.

Bought this 1997 Dodge Ram Diesel new. It cost more than our first three homes. We have had it for thirteen years so far. Super truck.

My mom bought this VW Bug new and gave it to us in about 1989. We traded it for a ski boat.

We bought this 1976 Jeep Wagoner after we sold our 1965 Chevy pickup. We still needed a pickup.

We bought this 1962 MBZ, the only gas MBZ we owned. It had a sun roof and was fun to drive.

Gwen loved this 1958 MBZ diesel. I taught both the kids how to drive in it. Four speeds on the column and a tiny diesel engine. You really had to know how to drive with this combination. Very good learning platform. It was built so heavy it saved Gwen and Jimmy Mies lives when they were broadsided on Power Inn Rd.

!965 pickup before the paint, but after the up-grade to 3/4 ton.

Karson with the first car he ever drove into the back of our home on Ponderosa road, a 1953 MG TD. He would play in the car, and one day he released the hand brake and it was parked on a slight rise above the back of the house. Crash!!!

We looked in two barns and a field at all the parts to this 1953 MG TD. It took awhile to put it together, find an engine and make it all work.

My Scout 800, Gwens new supper beetle. And Pooh, Gwen's Saint Bernard.

Our Scout 800, Gwen's Fiat Spider, and Pooh.

Bought this 1970 914 new. What a fun car. We drove this on our honeymoon. Traded it in on our Scout 800.

This is my 1965 Corvar Spider. Turbo charged flat six. Really fast but couldn't keep fan belts on it at speed.

I bought this 1968 VW new when I was a fireman in Alameda. I moved to Cameron Park soon after.

I picked up this 1935 Ford four door from a sailor who was shipping out for $25.00. The roof had a leak, so we used tar and gravel to seal it up.

1957 VW. bought this when I got out of the Army.

This was Dad and Eloise's wagon. When they bought a new Ford wagon I bought it from them. I was drafted soon after this and I had my neighbor sell it and my hot rod Olds.

I bought one like this, (didn't take any pictures) for $25.00 at a car lot in Oakland. Put a big motor in it and ran the quarter mile.

I traded my 1950 Chevy for my first Olds. A 1949 four door.

Linda fronted the $125.00 so I could buy this 1950 Chevy. I took the motor out and replaced it with a newer engine that I could build to race with.

Grandpa Condley gave us this 1936 Dodge four door. I learned to drive by going up and down the driveway about a zillion times, then hit the streets at thirteen.

Ed's Go Cart

I took these pictures off of our 8th grade school picture. In these shots we were 12 or 13. Next stop, Encinal High School.

I grew up with Ed AcMoody. He grew up in a two story old home like I did, but he had a big garage under his house. Ed had a really big train set that he and his dad had put together. Really cool layout. I think Ed's dad was some kind of an engineer, or at least a good inventor. Ed and I could spend hours looking over some of the things his dad was working on. I kind of remember some tubing that was welded together and if you put some gas in the right place, and heat it up it would turn into a jet engine of some kind. His dad did this, not a couple of ten year old kids. Ed and I were using a hammer to pop caps once, when his dad said, watch this! He put a whole roll of caps in a vise, tightened it, then hit the vise with a hammer. The shock wave set off the whole roll at once!!! Really loud, but the whole roll was gone, all at once.

In his back yard Ed had set up a wire between the house and a tree. He had one of those boy scout rocket thingies that used a CO2 cartridge to power it along the wire. Also really cool. Next to the house was a large tub that was full of water. Ed took one of the CO2 cartridges and fires it off into the tub of water. Wow could that thing cover the ground and jump right out of the tub. Like I said, lots of things to get into.

Ed's dad had built him a go cart. I don't remember if it had brakes, but it at least had a lever that took it into and out of gear. We would take turns around the back yard, into a garage that we had put tilted plywood lifted up on something so we could make really tight turns. I don't remember who thought it up that we should take a turn around Alameda. but We both squeezed into the seat and took off down Lincoln Av, on the sidewalk of course. We didn't make it too far before the Alameda Police were driving along side giving us the evil eye. We pulled to a stop, and had a good talking to. If I remember, I think we had to push the go cart back to Ed's home. I don't know if Ed got into any trouble, I know I didn't. This was probably a first that I get caught doing something and not get grounded.

After being on (chat) with Ed, he reminded me about digging up gophers over in the train yard and keeping them as pets. If you have ever tried to dig up a gopher, it's not that easy. But in Alameda the dirt is mostly sand. It is an island after all. Once you find a new pile of dirt you just start digging with your hands until you open the burrow hole. Then if the burrow is shallow you can just keep pulling up the dirt real fast until you feel fur. Then you wonder if he is facing you, with those big yellow teeth, or if he is making a run for it and you can grab his hind end and toss him away from the burrow. Rather exciting for a couple of eight year olds.

I know we caught at least two. Ed has told me he kept his in a big fish tank filled with dirt, and that it escaped at some point in time. Something about big yellow teeth and a wooden lid on the fish tank. Then he mentioned something about his dad planting a new lawn. "The two don't go together well." I on the other hand put my pet gopher in the sand box in our back yard. I guess it wasn't screened under the sand. We had gopher dirt mounds around for quite a while if I remember right. Just maybe hamsters aren't such a bad idea after all. But you have to buy them! I don't know about Ed's, but I know my didn't want to cuddle at all. In fact it was a little scary just to look at it. Those big yellow teeth and squinty little eyes.

Ill get hold of Ed and see if he can send me a ten year old picture. He is living in Georgia now. Were on face book together and re-living old times. Lots of fun to re-connect.

Angels I have heard on high

This is a shot of the research ship Pioneer pushing across the Pacific up by the Aleutian Islands with some large swells hitting us on the nose.

One of my old buddies, Milton, steering the ship. I never did get to do that!

Good old Mr. Peasly. He sucked in the gut when he saw me with my camera. He knew more about what went on in that engine room than anyone I knew.

In 1961 while working our way between Hawaii and Alaska on the Research vessel, Pioneer. you could tell when you got close to Hawaii. The smell of the islands are unmistakable. On the other end of the sweep, the Aleutian islands also have a smell of their own. Working in the engine room was a life all of it's own. We had huge blowers moving air down from deck level. In the engine room you had noise, lots of noise. You also had diesel fuel vapors in the air. But standing under the blower vents you could almost tell how far we were from land. We all took turns going topside for a few minuets of quite, fresh air, a bite of something to eat, or a restroom break. Our shifts at sea were four hours on, and four hours off. Around the clock.

I worked in the (aft) engine room. It had all its own controls, and also backup controls to the forward engine room. Both engine rooms had the twin diesel engines that could be engaged to the prop shaft one at a time, or both at the same time. The aft engine room also has things that the forward engine room did not. Aft, we had two generators that we would run one at a time to power up all things electric for the ship. We also had a steam boiler and an evaporator to distill sea water into fresh water. The engineer on duty would usually stay at the main control panel, but would cover any open spots for breaks that we all needed during our shifts.

Like I have said, the noise levels are way off the charts in the engine rooms, so we used hand signals, passed notes, or by holding your cupped hands over the other persons ear, you could yell and be understood. My engineer, Mr. Peasly was a huge man, tall with a beer gut over his belt buckle and had been a sea going man all of his adult life. He was somewhere in his fifties when I worked with him. He knew the ship inside and out, every valve, every pipe, and what was in that pipe. The ship was plumbed to carry everything we needed, from fuel, steam, sea water, fresh water, everything.

One of those long shifts in the middle of the night I was sitting in front of the steam boiler and evaporator distilling sea water, filling the fresh water tanks and supplying the ship with steam. Everything was looking right on target in the boilers. You have to balance the fuel to the boiler, the amount of sea water going into the evaporator, the amount of fresh water going into the steam boiler. Lots of tweaking valves to keep it all dancing to the same rhythm of the ship.

I had just gotten down below from a quick break and was tweaking everything back where I wanted it. In the few minutes I was topside, very little had to be done, just watched so nothing went too far out of balance. About a half an hour after my break, I thought I heard something, something that was not the normal noises that we all get used to. I looked over at Mr. Peasly to see if he showed any reaction to what I was hearing. I signaled him with a quick wave, and pointed to one of my ears, like, do you hear anything? He took a few moments glancing around and listening, looked at me and shrugged his shoulders, meaning, nope, nothing. I went back to tweaking and watching.

A short time later I thought I heard something again, only this time, all other sounds left me. It was just like when you go unconscious from a conk on the head, or you run our of air for whatever reason. This time I heard singing, beautiful singing. Way high pitched, like angels singing. Again I looked over at Mr. Peasly. I felt like I was in a fog, but I could see, and the only thing I was hearing was that beautiful singing. I waved again and motioned, pointing to my ear. Mr. Peasly did his best to hear what I was hearing, but, nothing again. The sound of the engine room came back and the singing went away. The whole thing lasted for maybe ten seconds. I went back to tweaking and watching all the gauges.

Once again, after a short time, I get goose bumps, this is new, my hearing changes and the singing starts up. Again I look at Mr. Peasley, nothing from him. This time I wave to get his attention. I signal him that I need to go topside for a couple of minuets. He looks over at my gauges and gives me the OK. I don't know why, but someone is telling me something. The third time is no mistake. I get up and into fresh air, its the middle of the night, maybe three am. I take my few minutes topside, take a deep breath of the cool night air and head back down.

As I clear the second level of stairways, (ladders) I can hear the unmistakable sound of escaping steam, lots of escaping steam. As I clear the last few steps, Mr. Peasley is finishing closing the last valve to isolate the broken fitting. Like I said, Mr. Peasley knew this ship inside and out. No panic, no yelling, just calmly doing what he was really good at. Keeping the ship moving. Almost everything had redundant piping and valving, and this engineer knew all about it. We set about changing the problem steam fitting and putting the engine room back into ship shape.

Our shift was over and we were relieved by the next crew. We all went up topside for some air and discuss what happened. Mr. Peasley sat the three of us young guys down and started with me. What was I hearing just before that fitting had blown apart? I told him what I was hearing, but I didn't know how to interpret it, but the third time I had it in my head I felt like it was a warning of some kind. Mr. Peasley looked at me and said, "If you were in that seat where you had been, we would be calling a medical emergency and heading for the nearest port. It may not have killed you, but you would never have been the same person". Then he did something I would not have expected from an old sea dog like him. He leaned over real close and all but whispered "keep your eyes, and ears open young man, someone wants you in one piece for something". Old sea dogs don't talk like that very often, and I gained more respect for a man who shows very little emotion, but seemed to recognize when power from another source places his hand on someone and encourages promptings from above.

The power of prayer

Gwen and I are ready to be baptized.. The kids are really cute.

The Stake Center is really coming along.

Inside looking toward the stage.

Looking toward the Chapel side of the building.

The entrance to the parking lot is to the left. Just out of the picture to the left would have been the old fire station engine room.

My wife and I were baptized into the Mormon Church in March of 1978. El Dorado County members were part of a Stake in Sacramento County. President Sellers was our Stake President and Earl Bair was my Elders' Quorum President. Being new to the Church, I went along with programs that I was asked to attend. We attended our church services at Mormon Center in Rancho Cordova. We also went back and forth for each meeting back then. I would go to Priesthood and come home to pick up my family and go back for Sacrament meeting and so forth. It made for a long day.

I was attending a Priesthood session for Stake Conference and sort of listening to what was being talked about. I thought I heard something about the Church buying property in Cameron Park with the hopes of building a Stake Center. I then heard that because of a building moratorium, the County would not issue a building permit because they were not allowing new water meters because of a drought that had been plaguing the State. I asked President Bair about what I thought I had just heard and he confirmed what I thought I had heard.

Now let me back up a few years: I moved up to El Dorado County in March of 1969 to go to work for Cameron Park as the first fireman. The Fire Chief that called me and offered me the job was Herb Owen. He and I worked together in Alameda as firemen from 1967 until he moved early 1969. He at one time was the Fire Chief in Marin County. Together we set up a brand new fire department. A man named Richard Smith was a local land developer and owned some acreage off of Hacienda Road and Cameron Park Drive. He let us put up a mobile home and a 2 bay, wooden engine room for the 2 fire engines we would be buying. Well, a fire station needs water, so we contacted El Dorado Irrigation District and we put in a water meter. I had to hand dig the water lines myself. We camped out this way for about 2 years while we passed a bond measure and build the new fire station on Country Club Drive.

Now we are back in the late 1970's at the Stake Priesthood meeting.

After the meeting, I went up to President Sellers with Earl Bair at my side and told him" The property on Hacienda has a water meter in place." President Sellers looked at me and asked how I would know about it? I gave him the reader's digest version and he said "If you can locate it, we can start building a Stake Center." Earl Bair looked at me and asked when could I go look for it? I said I'll find it the next morning.

On Monday morning, I loaded some shovels and such in my truck and headed over to Hacienda Rd. "It's amazing how this County gets overgrown in just a few years. I looked around for awhile and decided what I needed to do was dig a trench across where I remembered laying that water line some eight or ten years ago and when I find it I could follow it up to the meter. At about one or two in the afternoon, Earl drove by to see how I was doing. I had a nice looking trench in progress by then, Earl asked if I needed any help. By then, the temperature was somewhere in the low hundreds and I was a little sweaty and a little covered in dirt. I said "you bet." About a half hour later, Earl's brother-in-law shows up. Casey Campbell had just returned from his mission and was a whole lot better in tune with Heavenly Father than I was.

Especially after a few hours of digging my trench.

The first thing Casey asked when he saw me knee deep in a very long trench was" Have you kneeled in prayer and asked Father to help us?" You shouldn't ask someone who is hot, sweaty and dirty if he has prayed about it! Like I said before, we hadn't been members very long. So I climbed out of my little trench and asked Casey if he would offer the prayer. As we kneeled down, Casey offered a heartfelt prayer. As Casey was getting up, he placed his hands on the ground and felt something. As he brushed away the leaves, he asked, whats' this? I looked at him and said "that would be the lid to the water meter we have been looking for! Casey looked at me and asked "Do you need anything else?"

The building would have been built without my knowing about the water meter, we just moved it along a little sooner. With Caseys' help of course.

That young returned missionary taught me a huge lesson about how any project should be started, especially when your on a project that Heavenly Father just might have sent you on. His work will go on, its just nice to be involved.

Cameron Park Fire Department, the beginning.

This is the dedication plaque that was placed on the new fire station on Country Club Drive.

This shot shows the Chief's 57 pickup, 51 Dodge grass truck, 1956 P.G.&E. pickup, and the brand new 1969 Ward LaFrance. All in Herb's front yard. For the life of me I can't see why the neighborhood would complain!

Here I am loading hose in the back of the P.G&E. pickup. We had not acquired the other rigs yet.

The Chief's pickup in downtown Placerville, December 1969.

Cameron Park Fire Departments first fire chief, Herb Owen, moved up from the bay area a few months before he asked me to make the move to help start the fire department. I moved up on March 28, 1969. My first official day would be April 1, 1969. Who would have thought that I would start a new carer on April Fools Day! Oh well Ill worry about this in about thirty or forty years. When Cameron Park Fire Department board of directors signed a contract with The California Department of Forestry to manage the fire department in 1998, I saved some of the early logbooks, so the dates I use are accurate.

The first two weeks I lived at the fire station in El Dorado Hills, At 990 Lasson Lane. Herb and I finished a room at his home in Cameron Park that I would live in while on duty. It was seperate from the main house, and had an exit to the garage and to the fire equipment that we would be picking up soon.

After a few weeks I made the move to the chiefs house, 3870 Los Santos. We didn't have a fire engine yet, but we got started by equipping a 1956 green ford pickup that used to belong to the phone company. It had a utility bed and a covered pickup bed with a metal sliding top. We loaded first aid, and rescue equipment in the side compartments, and a hose load in the pickup bed. We would have to take every fire with a hose lay from a fire hydrant. No pump on the old pickup. We also had a 1957 Chevy pickup that we painted red and lettered up as the Fire Chiefs vehicle.

Within a couple of months Herb went to a California Fire Chiefs meeting in Sacramento. At these meetings a lot of vender's show up to sell there newest equipment. One of the vender's was showing a brand new 1969 Ford cab over triple combination fire engine. It was gas powered, 750 gallon water tank, a 1000 gallon per minuet two stage pump and ground ladders. Just what we needed and it was available within a few weeks. It still needed to be seen at two other meetings in other states. It was built as a demonstrator model for show and tell. Herb also placed other orders at the show. Things like air packs, hose, nozzles and turn outs for the firemen to wear. We needed everything that a new fire department would need.

Back at Herbs home I set to work placing 4X4 posts in front of the house and pulling canvas over a frame to keep the engine out of the weather. Herb also picked up a 1951 two ton Dodge truck that had been a Forestry unit way back when. on May 20Th 1969 I turned it back into a wild land fire rig. It looked a little silly, but it would really wet down the fire line. I put electric switches on nozzles under the front bumper, and had a one hundred foot, one inch reel line mounted on a 450 gallon water tank. At a military surplus store we found a self contained 500 G.P.M. pump and motor that I mounted behind the cab, with remote controls inside the cab. The new Ward La France engine was delivered on May 26, 1969. The last thing Herb found and brought home was a well used 1947 American La France fire engine from the Sacramento Fire Department. It had been Sacramento Engine #2. Sacramento was having a public auction and Herb picked it up for $500.00. We nick named it "smoky Joe" This is why I was here, to rebuild things. What fun, a 1947 American La France V12 motor! And I get to take it apart and put it back together.

The neighborhood started to take notice of the new hobby that Herb took up on Los Santos. One of the family's in the house behind us was a Realtor and developer in Cameron Park, Richard L.V. Smith. He had a piece of property just off Cameron Park Drive, on Hacienda Road that had been set aside for a Middle School sometime in the future. It had several acres on somewhat flat ground. At the end of October 1969, deal was struck, a Mobil home bought, and with the help of our volunteers we put up a two car garage to keep the engines in. One of the El Dorado Irrigation District guys, Curt Wiesenhunt and I put in a water meter and service to the mobile home. P.G.& E. ran power to a pole we put in. I was driving through Folsom and saw a Shell Gas Station being bulldozed and I grabbed the overhead doors for free. We now had a fire station to call home until we could float a bond to build the station on Country Club Drive. We would camp out on Hacienda Road for about two years.

Within the first few months we had handed out emergency phone stickers and put in the "HOT" line for in coming emergency calls. Cameron Park had an agreement with Shingle Springs Volunteer fire department to respond to all emergency calls until the new fire department was in place and prepared to respond. Chief Owen had his hands full setting up a new department and training me as well. I was very new to the fire service. I may have been a good mechanic, and had put my service time in the Army, but now I needed to be taught a whole lot in a very short time. I was good at first aid, but fire science and tactics I was lacking in. Herb was very patient with me, and we got lots done in a very few months. I have a lot to thank Chief Owen for.

Herb had picked up a radio monitor so we could listen how El Dorado County ran their calls. If something was dispatched in Cameron Park, we would also respond. What we found out was, we were always the first one to arrive, even though Shingle Springs was dispatched. This was because we were at our station, listening, and ready to respond. Shingle Springs was still a volunteer department.

The first call we self dispatched to was a grass fire on Hampton Lane and covered eleven lots in all. The first official emergency call we had was a furniture fire in a structure on December 10, 1969. Little girls and candles caused bedroom fires on a regular basis. From April 1, 1969 to June 30, 1970 we had 38 emergency calls. We have more than that in any week now. Thank goodness it was quiet so we could get everyone trained and equipment built. We put out the word for volunteers and had about six men sign up for training. The problem we had was very few worked very close to Cameron Park. We had two gas stations, Sams Town, and a little hamburger joint called the Burger Soloon. Gravel parking lot and all. After hours we could expect some men to respond, but during the day it was all but zero response from our volunteer force.

My first few months were spent clearing, flow testing and mapping every fire hydrant in and around Cameron Park. Many hydrants were not visible from the street. They were ether covered over with brush and grass, or buried under dirt with, maybe the top visible. Lots of shovel work, and lots of swing blade work. My evenings were spent putting together a volunteer training schedule for evening drills. With Herb training me as we went. I was about as green as you could get. Both Herb and myself were certified in first aid and C.P.R. from being in the fire department in Alameda. We would find out very soon that we were the only two in the whole county that were certified in C.P.R. No one did that function! No pulse, and you were dead. It was as simple as that.

El Dorado County used the mortuaries to transport patients when the need arose. It was handy when there was no pulse. Finally the county hired one ambulance to post itself in and around Placerville. Foothill Ambulance had two men that did basic first aid, and transported patients. Pollock Pines built there own rescue van that had a gurney,ropes, and spair fire equipment, but in the early days only transported in there own fire district. In the late sixties there were eighteen fire districts in the county. El Dorado Hills and Pollock Pines were the first to staff stations. We all had our own emergency phone numbers, so we all needed to have someone sit by a phone. The answering service in Placerville filled in that gap for several districts, and dispatched out the volunteers by radio, and phone trees.

Herb and some of the other fire chiefs started fire training nights for training officers so we could all do the evolutions of firefighting the same way. This was something new for all of us. I ended up being the Chairman for the American Red Cross for a few years. I taught the first aid, and C.P.R. class's for most of the county. We finally got a few more instructors in some of the stations, so I only had to clear the paper work and issue certificates for some of the fire districts. I think school bus drivers were trained better than fireman in first aid back in those days. I had a ton of first aid background from the department in Alameda, and from the Army before that.

The fire service in those days used radio codes instead of what we use now, clear text. When we got our new engine, I installed the county fire radios, and I asked the Placerville answering service for a radio check. In Alameda we called that a (signal 1000) so that's what I asked for. The answering service said (10-4) Cameron Park. For the next few minuets tone after tone went off letting every department around us know that I was asking for a (signal 1000) This is when I found out that the code I used for a radio check is what this county used for an aircraft down. I figured out what was going on very quickly and cancelled everyone. We laughed about this one for a few years.

The Chief and the board of directors put a bond vote together for the voters of Cameron Park. With lots of foot work on our part, it passed. We had secured $100,000. to build the fire station on Country Club Drive. Some residents called it The Taj Mahal. It was also mentioned, how can anyone spend that much money on one building? Wow do times change or what? Herb and I worked with the builder so we could run all the wiring we would need for radios, speakers, bells, and such.

Chief Owen filed for an O.E.O. Grant. (Office of Economic Opportunity) and with that grant we were able to hire two brother's, Pete and Leon Misamore. They could earn a living, and keep going to school at the same time. This was a super opportunity for the two of them. They were 16 and 17 years old when they started with us. With their help we poured concrete until the entire station was circled with driveways, walkways, and patios. I lost count of how many yards we poured, but it was lots. Leon stayed with us for several years and then moved on to something else. Pete on the other hand stayed with us until about 1999 and left on an early retirement.

Because of the low response from our volunteer force during the day, Herb started the (RESERVES) an all female volunteer firefighting force. My wife, Gwen was one of the first to help fill this gap for daytime response. This was something new to the fire service, and worked very well. We had some very memorable calls being backed up with the reserves.

In 1972 our board of directors changed fire chief's. For me it was a huge loss. The Chief was a good friend and mentor. The new Chief was brought out of retirement from the Sacramento City Fire Department. Our new chief was Lewis Cassaglia. Talk about someone with tons of background. Lou started with the McClellan air field during the Second World War and after the War was hired by Sacramento City Fire Department. Lou did several things that changed our direction. One of the programs Lou started was a building plans review for commercial properties. Lou also contacted another government program, C.E.T.A. (Comprehensive Employment Training Act) .With this program we had several young men at a time show up for training in all things related to the emergency service. At one time we had 21 young men to equip and train. Quite a few went on in fire service career's. A few that I remember; Matt Jenkins retired as a Unit Chief with Cal Fire. Henry Ogg, retired as a fire Captain with Sac Metro. Bruce Prender, out with an injury as fire Captain with Cameron Park. Jack
Royal retired on a medical. Bill Sanderson, retired with an injury from Cameron Park. And Lou Motto retired as an Engineer from Sac Metro.

Our board of directors researched a better way to administer the fire department, and came up with a solution. We went under contract with C.D.F., now called Cal Fire. This didn't go over well with some of us, but in the long run it was best both for the district and the employees. It opened lots of doors for any of us that wanted to try another type of fire service opportunities. I went to work in Georgtown at a fire camp. After some training that covered working with State Inmates, I ran fire crews that fought fire with nothing more than hand tools all over the State. I got to hike mountains that I had never heard of. Too bad they were all on fire. It could have been a nice walk in the mountains.

I was there for the building of the new station, and years later I was there when it all but burned down. I had stopped by to see someone and was standing out in the back talking with a fire captain that had his inmate fire crew doing some maintenance work. The district had hired a company to hot mop the roof. While I was visiting, a man came running down from the roof speaking in Spanish. One of the inmate crew members came up to me and said "Capt, he's telling you that the roof is on fire." I yelled over at the station captain about what was going on. I was in shorts and flip flops. As the firefighters were gearing up, I moved an engine into position, set the pumps, and while I was setting up ladders, the inmate crew started pulling hose lines and getting a water supply ready for the firefight.

Additional engines were called in from surrounding departments, and with all that help the fire still worked it's way from the roof, through the mansard siding into the lower levels of the building. It was a long hard firefight. The only blessing from all this loss is, Cameron Park has a wonderful new building that they can be proud of.

I will add to this post as I find other pictures.

Maraschino cherries

I was about seven, out playing in the rail yard field when one of the big guys from the next block came walking down the tracks. We knew each other and most of us got along pretty well. We were throwing rocks at a tin building and making lots of noise. We got board with throwing rocks and took off looking for some other mischief to get into. I don't remember the kids name, but he must have been twelve or so. I know he was older than my big sister, Shena. As we were walking between the box cars the kid asked me if I knew what was inside them? At seven I had no idea. So, he said lets open one up and find out.

There were no locks on the big doors, just little tin Tye's of some kind that were crimped down so you could tell if the door had been tampered with. And tamper we did. As the door was pushed open all I could see was cardboard box's, lots of cardboard box's. The big kid wiggled a box out. It had smaller box's inside it. "Maraschino Cherries", the big kid said, lots of maraschino cherries! What little kid has ever had his fill of maraschino cherries? You might get one, or even two at one time, but a whole box would be out of the question. Jars of them, all for me to eat until I puke!

I found a nice quite place in the tall grass and started popping lids. At first they were like the greatest thing you could eat. After several jars, they started tasting not as great as they did when you only got to eat one or two at a time. I was able to gag down a few jars before I started getting that flushed feeling and a rolling stomach. I think maybe I should have chewed these things a little better the first time I saw them, because the second time I got to see them it was gross!

I ditched my stash of maraschino cherries and headed for home. Dad was due home from work, and dinner would be ready right then. I was a little lite headed when I got home. I ran into my big sister as I was walking down the driveway. She looked at me in a stranger way than usual. I looked at her and asked "what?"

She asked if I had fallen out of a tree or something.

No, I said, why?

Because it looks like you've been bleeding from your mouth, and down the front of you.

"Oh oh, cherry juice"

Linda cleaned me up once I told her what I had been doing. Good old Shena, taking care of her little brother again.

Mom and dad couldn't figure out why I wasn't hungry at dinner. Shena kept quite about my adventure with the boxcar. It took years before I could look a maraschino cherry in the eye.

The box kite

When I was about ten years old, dad brought a kite home. Not just any old kite either. It was huge! Instead of little wooden pieces wrapped with paper, this one used aluminum poles and was wrapped with nylon, like from a parachute. It was six feet tall, three feet square and a really bright orange. It came with 1/4 inch rope that was coiled up in a large pouch. Dad said it was used as a signaling device and gunnery practice during the war. If a plane was shot down near an island, the pilot could fly the kite and be seen from miles away and he could be rescued.

The instructions were quick and to the point! (yes I read the instructions) I had lots of time to kill waiting for the right conditions. The instructions said to tie the line off to the kite and a tree before assembling, and wear gloves, as the line could cut into your hands as it caught air and lifted off.

It didn't take long to assemble, or take apart, and we had the best place to fly it. The wide open field out in the middle of the railroad yard. Now all I would need is a weekend when the trains were not out running around, and of course some wind. Do you know how long it takes to have the stars line up with a weekend, with wind? To try running to get it into the air would be impossible. It was way too big for that. I had a couple of false try's because of my eagerness and the lack of wind on weekends.

Finally, a Saturday, some wind, and my buddy Rob from the next block over gave me a hand. We carried everything out into the field. I tied the line to a power pole that was in the middle of everything, stretched it out and started assembling the kite. I had some garden gloves that were a little lite duty, but that's all we had. We were both used to having to run with a kite, not just waiting for it to lift off. We set everything up and waited. Nothing was happening. Maybe not enough wind? We didn't know, we were only like ten years old. Rob said, why don't we run with it like we always do with little kites? I said if all else fails we'll do it our way! Well, nothing was happening fast enough for a couple of ten year olds.

We left the end of the rope tied to the pole. The rope was really long, so we thought we could get the kite to lift off and then let the rope out until all of it was out again. We tried several times. Not enough wind. This kite is way huge, and were just going to tear it up trying to fly it. We need a weekend with real wind. Maybe next time. We took everything apart and hauled it home. We had wind during the week, but too much train activity, and too many people walking around.

The day finally came! A weekend with wind. As Rob and I left with our arms full of everything we needed, my sister Linda watched as we went down the driveway. Just the look she gave us stopped me. I asked "WHAT?" She was a teenager now, and knew everything. Rob and I, on the other hand ,just did whatever. Linda said something like, "that thing will drag both of you all the way to the end of the field" NO, I said, we will have it tied off to that power pole that's in the middle of the field. The last thing Linda said as we took off was something about power poles and wires that hang on them.

Everything was ready, the rope was tied off, the kite was assembled, and just like the instructions said, it lifted off. Rob and I went back where the rope was tied off on the power pole and tried to hold the rope and go hand over hand to walk it down some. We had these chinsey garden gloves but they didn't do much. As we went hand over hand trying to bring the kite down, it started lifting both of us off the ground. Just a little, but lots of fun. We told each other to not let go. For sure it would lift one of us off really easy. We were both laughing like any couple of ten year old kids would. We were gaining, but the kite had lots of rope. A few hundred feet more and it would be down. Then the kite started drifting to one side toward the power lines. We had to either let it back up, above the lines, or do the hand over hand thing to get below the lines really fast. You know all those little hairs all over your body? You don't really know they are there until something like this happens. They all stood out like we were porcupine's.

The Alameda Times Star headlines said something about kids and a huge kite that tripped the overload switches. Rob and I were all eyes as the kite drifted into the wires and the aluminum tubing made contact with live lines. It was spectacular! Sparks, melting aluminum, and us holding a very limp rope. I had to convince Rob to help grab everything and run. He didn't want to be involved in the grabbing part, just the running part. I wanted the evidence gone. We didn't have to unassemble the kite. It came down very well unassembled.

Linda was waiting down the driveway as we ran past her. She had that look again, like now what did you two do? and why is the power off in the house? "We don't know nothin as we ran by, ditching everything in the back of the garage. Our kite flying days were over. At least the big metal ones. We'll stay with the paper and stick ones. Who would have thought?