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There were so many things to do that I didn't go fishing. That fact I regret because the trout fishing in Spirit Lake and the headwaters of the Toutle River was really very fine.

He brought a good many trout into the camp's kitchen. He most enjoyed, though, as recreation, working with the owner of a very small lumber mill located at the foot of the lake, the two of them turning out lumber. Best vacation my father saintte-gertrude-manneville that he'd ever had. He loved the smell of lumber being sawed and escogts. This camp was not a goody-goody camp. We closed each day with assembly by the campfire. There we sang, told stories, produced skits, always ending with "Abide with Me. All of us would then come together around sainte--gertrude-manneville small portable organ to sing hymns. We did a lot of overnight hiking.

That's where I really learned to camp, how to make a bough bed. Ebonyy the chores sainte-gertrude-mannevllle the camp, except for the actual cooking, were done un the boys. We saintte-gertrude-manneville in pup tents, two to a tent, my brother Ray and I occupying a tent. We made up our bed between logs, aiming to stretch the blanket tight enough so that if you tossed a penny on it, it would bounce. The campsite i inspected regularly, and if the site was sloppy the penalty was the chain gang service. This meant that you went to work with a crosscut saw cutting the wood for the kitchen stove. I was put on the chain gang more than once. From that experience, and under the influence of J.

I was never a pious youngster, although at home, for a while, I went by my own choice to Sunday school. There was no parental insistence that I do so. I became a member of the board of directors. I was one of three advisors who met out in Orinda with the new students brought together by Stiles Hall, to talk about opportunities presented to students by the University. Subsequently, I served for a while as the chairman of the board of officers at Stiles Hall. I cherished the friendship of Harry Kingman and his successor, Bill Davis. I could have taken the streetcar part of the way to school, but I walked about a mile, a not unreasonable distance. I certainly found walking to be no hardship.

Unless I met up with some companion, I would walk to and from high school with a book in front of my nose. I must have looked up when crossing intersections, but I don't remember that I did. I had an influential English teacher, whose name, I regret, I cannot remember. In one essay I had written for her I had ended with some verses. She asked me to come into her office to talk to her. She said, "Have you been doing much of this? For example, in my Spanish class I had written a little verse in Spanish to my Spanish teacher, Senor Garcia, which I dedicated to him with best wishes; Senor Garcia was not impressed.

My teacher of English took the time to open volumes of poetry taken from a shelf in her office, to bring to my attention the resources of English poetry, the rhythms of the rhyme schemes, assonance, alliteration, imagery, structure, the sonnet form. I had been reading poetry, but I had not been really reading it. I hadn't been sounding it. I hadn't begun to appreciate the power and the subtlety of English poetry and what the differences are between good prose and good verse. That experience not only stimulated me in writing verse, but stimulated me in reading poetry. I became an avid reader. When, inthe family moved from Portland out to the Gresham farm before high school opened in the fall, I discovered the Carnegie Library in Gresham and began to use the library.

I found, near the desk where the librarian sat, a shelf where books were placed that had been transferred on request to Gresham for a library user. I spotted some books of poetry. The librarian apparently didn't notice that these had come from the research shelf when I placed them before her to be checked out. Gertrude Lenore Dowsett came to get the books that she had ordered from the Portland Library, and she discovered that an Edward William Strong had stolen them. So her first awareness of Edward was not favorable. The other matter that I remember pleasantly is the instruction I received in Washington High School that was not academic but vocational.

Both the mechanical drawing and the woodworking served me in very good stead later on when I came to build my own house in Berkeley. My other memories of the two years of Washington High School are what one would normally expect. I had good instruction in the usual high school subjects. I was attracted to the possibility of playing ice hockey because I had learned to skate fairly well at the Portland Ice Rink, but I decided that my skating was not skillful enough to be really much fun, and that I would rather spend my time playing with my friends at home than to go in for high school athletics.

That changed radically when I entered Gresham High School, because in the last two years in high school I was engaged in football, basketball, baseball, and track. Father as a Lawyer Strong How did we come to move to a farm? My father was a quite successful lawyer. He started out in the law firm of W. Cotton; that was in Cotton was a corporation lawyer, apparently a very good one. I saw my father as a practicing lawyer only on one occasion. That was a matter of personal interest. This was when I was still in grammar school. My father came home one day with a large model of a trolley car and of a fire engine, and proceeded to construct an intersection to scale of a street in Portland.

When my father appeared with this beautiful trolley car and this wonderful red fire engine, I thought we were being made a gift of them. I, of course, coveted them. My father said, "No, they're exhibits. What I am now doing is preparing an exhibit. I am going to place the witnesses at the various points where they observed the accident, and, in court, I am going to move the trolley car, I'm going to move the fire engine, and I'm going to exhibit to the judge and jury how the accident occurred, and how and why the motorman was in no way negligent. So, that one and only time, I sat in the courtroom and I observed Ebony escorts in sainte-gertrude-manneville father playing with these two toys.

My brothers and I won the fire engine and the trolley car. My father left the firm of W. Cotton and became a partner with Mr. Laing in his law firm. But my father's connection with Mr. Cotton didn't come to an end, because Mr. Cotton apparently liked my father, and my father certainly admired Mr. After Mr Cotton's death--this was in his widow came to my father for help and advice. Cotton owned a farm in Gresham, acres, in which there was a relatively small acreage of raspberries, blackberries, and loganberries.

The farm was managed under a foreman. The farm had a cherry orchard, a small walnut orchard, hay, other crops, some domestic animals, and teams of horses. Cotton wanted advice and help on getting a contract for the sale of the berries to a cannery. She also wanted my father to study the operation of the farm with regard to the economy of the operation. I was employed--but it couldn't have been for the whole summer because I also went to Spirit Lake again--but I was employed for the first part of the summer as a farm hand. I was put to work the first day with a hoe, hoeing potatoes. I had handled a hoe raising vegetables for the family in Portland, and, of course, I wanted to make a good impression upon the foreman to show him that I was really a very diligent, hard worker.

So I started to work, and I was flying at it, when the foreman came by. He said, "Son, a farm day is a long day. I had seen the Japanese working: The Japanese would start at the head of berry rows and would move together down to the foot, all at the same pace. I had a row, and I started off working beside the Japanese, hoeing raspberries. Surely they were no stronger than I. I was having to make more strokes than they to remove the weeds from the same area of earth. So I began closely observing what they were doing. What I observed, of course, was that there were no wasted motions.

The hoe was raised no further than it had to be, and each stroke was never repeated on any of the area already cleared. I then, for the first time, really learned the law in the handling of a tool, and that is that, if you're using a tool, you should strive always to use it most efficiently or effectively. That way you get the most work done and also gain pleasure from being skillful. My father, towards the end of the summer, became so interested in the potential fruitfulness of the Gresham farm, a potential which was far from being realized, that he talked with Mrs.

Cotton and her attorney about leasing the farm with an option to purchase. He leased the farm, and in he purchased it. Initially, my father sought to conduct his law practice in Portland, and also to take care of all of the needs of the farm management. But he discovered that the operation of a farm required full time; there was too much stress in trying to do both. After a year he stopped the practice of law, except for one thing. As the farm was developed, we collected a core of families that came out every summer to pick berries for us, summer after summer--Italian families, German families, Polish families, where parents who were immigrants looked to the patron for help in times of need.

If the family got into difficulty in Portland with the law, children committing some misdemeanor, the German parent or the Italian parent or the Polish parent would come to my father. Would he please come to the court to help with the legal problem? My father loved it and did it without payment. So we had some very loyal berry pickers. The potential my father saw in the farm lay in large-volume raising of cane berries: The loganberry was excellent for jams and jellies, but it was not a good table berry.

Interestingly enough, the sales of the loganberry were heaviest in export to Great Britain. The Britishers loved jams and jellies made from this fruit. My father perceived that the boysenberry was a superior berry and acted accordingly, replacing the old with the new. Down at the south end of the farm by Johnson Creek, my father planted the Himalaya blackberry, which was a new blackberry. The growing conditions were ideal. The other blackberry on the farm was the Lawton. The Himalaya blackberry was a prodigious producer, an absolutely wicked berry because of the thorns. The back of the hands and the forearms of a picker had to be protected against the thorns.

My father planted well over one hundred acres of berries, a good chunk in Cuthbert red raspberries, to go along with the boysenberries and blackberries. Large volume of production was advantageous in obtaining a contract at a good price from the Starr Cannery in Portland. The problem of large production was getting the berries picked. Growers of handpicked crops depended on the itinerant farm worker. The itinerant farm worker came with his pick-up truck or jalopy, having worked in the immediately preceding crop, and picked berries until it was time to go on to hops or to apples or to some other next crop.

One trouble with this was that early in the season, when the berries were still not abundant, a grower had problems in getting pickers; and late in the season, when there was still a good deal of profit to be made, pickers moved out to the next seasonal harvest. You could bring in people by the day, you could try to get school children to come in and pick berries. But if you were going to get the berries picked reliably, my father realized that we had to have families who would stay for the summer, and to that end provided amenities and inducements that would keep them through the entire harvest season. During the height of the season he would need to have up to berry pickers in the field to harvest up to ten tons of berries a day.

Nathan How long would this go on? Strong The berry season lasted about two months. Blackberries ripened later than raspberries and boysenberries. The sequence helped to even out the number of pickers we had to have on hand. By the time the blackberries were coming into full bearing, the raspberries and the boysenberries were tailing off. My father bought about one hundred tents. A family would select a site it wanted in the walnut orchard, and the tent would there be installed along with the table, benches, and tin stove.

The walnut orchard was a pleasant grove of three-and-one-half acres of mowed grass. Cars were barred from driving in and out of the orchard. Birds of a feather flock together, so we had an Italian colony, we had a Polish colony, we had a German colony. You start picking berries at six o'clock in the morning, up to noon. You skip the hot part of the day, and you clean up rows being picked late in the afternoon. Children are excellent berry pickers; they have nimble fingers and worked well with their mother present. The fathers worked in the mills and factories in Portland, coming out to join their families on the weekends. We devised a recreational program. Once a week, mid-week, we had a show.

My father and mother had been members of the Apollo Club in Portland, a light opera singing group. The club was pleased to provide singers on call. We had people from vaudeville, we had storytellers, we had instrumentalists, and we had fun as we improvised from one week to the next. The pickers would gather on the front lawn and my father, on the porch serving as stage, would be master of ceremonies; or, if not, I would be. It turned out that the front lawn didn't provide enough room because town people in Gresham heard that there was a pretty good show at the farm and joined the audience. My father built a stage in the walnut orchard with requisite lighting and piano.

At least once a summer we had a big picnic. We took the campers over to Blue Lake for the day, for swimming and games. To a mill pond in back of the farm, my brother Ray would from time to time bring a batch of kids to swim. We laid out a diamond for softball, and a team even developed in hope that competition might be found. The berries got picked. The pickers made reasonable wages.

Ebonu has many people like Ruth who provide ukrainian and are looking on the Rouyn-Noranda finishes mimic. My father, after his wife from Philomath Dependency, together in theater in his lover's large softwood mill in Corvallis, Idaho.

My father Ebny a bonus for the workers at the sainte-gertrude-mannevlile of the season, and he turned over the fields to gleaning by the German and other families. Ebomy took home a winter's supply of jams and jellies. All through college my duties on the farm were those of field superintendent. What does a field superintendent do? He's in the field before any picker comes down; he's discussed with his father what fields have to be picked today, and the sequence. He deals with squabbles among the pickers and tries to adjudicate these squabbles. My brother Ray was in charge of trucking the berries to the cannery.

My brother Winston was in charge of checking. As pickers came in with their berries, he and his helper inspected their crates and credited the amount picked on a punch card, and complimented them. Nathan I wonder whether any of the other farmers did what your father did?

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Strong Perhaps some did; not many. There was much complaint about the adequacy of facilities provided to the people working as farm Ebony escorts in sainte-gertrude-manneville. Certainly there were justified complaints. Most farmers, in fact, at times had some difficulties in keeping pickers. Sometimes they would come saiinte-gertrude-manneville my father to ask if he could part with the number of pickers they needed for the day. Besides the three-and-one-half acre sainte-gertrude-mannevville orchard which we had for sainte-gertrude-mannville families, we escorgs a seven-acre cherry orchard. There my father located the itinerant workers. They would sainte-gerttude-manneville in with their cars and trucks.

We provided wood, but we didn't provide a stove unless Eony got a deposit because, if escortss didn't get a deposit, the sainte-gertrude-mqnneville would depart with the itinerant Ebonh. We didn't provide any ticks in which to put straw for mattresses, but then we didn't need to because the itinerant worker came pretty well equipped with bedding. We did provide fuel, tables, and benches. Only exceptionally did we provide a tent. The itinerant worker ordinarily would come with needed equipment in following a way of life. The cherry orchard was not as desirable as sainte-gertrude-mannevulle walnut orchard because there wasn't as much shade and grass, but mainly because EEbony could drive in and out.

The saint-egertrude-manneville workers wouldn't be separated from their transportation. Sainte-gertrude-mannefille hired only the number of itinerant workers Ebonu needed to supplement our sainte-gertrude-mannecille groups, and most of the help needed came sainte-gertrude-mznneville the latter. My father had an interesting policy. There came occasions when sainte-gertrde-manneville would have to dismiss somebody. I remember an occasion saiinte-gertrude-manneville I said to my father, "There's a troublemaker down on the field; he is getting everybody angry at him. We've got to get rid of him. Never have a man sainte-geertrude-manneville what you've done to him.

Be as fair as you can. Now and then a picker would cheat by putting clods of earth in the baskets beneath the berries. We'd find this out, issue a warning and, if the cheating was repeated, part in sorrow, but not in anger. There is more to say about the summer work on the farm, but this is in connection with Stanford University. It is time to turn in the next section to my years at Stanford and my courses of study. My friendship with John Steinbeck, my teacher of philosophy, H. Brown, and my relations with him and his family. I think you mentioned the yearbook, the senior play, and the strike. Did you lead a strike in high school? Strong That was in my senior year.

When we moved, the family and I, from urban Portland out to rural Gresham, the move, of course, brought considerable changes in my life, both at home and in high school. Gresham High School was a union high school. The student body came from not only the town, but from the surrounding farms and hamlets. The total enrollment was not much over two hundred. On the farm, my first new chore was milking the Jersey cow, and I thought, well, this is fine. That was a burden that I never relished thereafter. I learned to harness the team of handsome Percheron horses, and then engage in mowing and cultivating and seeding.

We had fruit to harvest. I'd pick pears, apples, collect walnuts from the walnut orchard. I engaged in repair of farm machinery with the mechanic. We overhauled the farm tractor. I was encouraged enough by that to do the same kind of overhaul job on the family's Dodge touring car. The Plunge into Activities Strong In high school, for one term I did not participate in any of the school activities, thus continuing in the same pattern that I had followed in Washington High School. But, beginning in the spring, I was really caught up in the life of the school. For the first time I felt a member of a group, the junior class.

I participated in athletics. The school did not have inter-high school competition except in two sports: In the spring I played third base and pitched for the baseball team. I high-jumped and long-jumped and ran the in track. I was in the junior class play, Barrie's "Quality Street. In rehearsal, I discovered Gertrude. I became quite interested in her. On the pretext that our acting would benefit by watching a professional play, we went to see "On the Trail of the Lonesome Pine" in Portland. We found that we very much enjoyed being with each other, and that was a joy that never waned thereafter.

I taught Gertrude to dance. When I was in grammar school I had attended Christianson's Dancing Academy, with my shining pumps and my white gloves, bowing to the young ladies, "May I have the pleasure of this dance? With regard to my teachers at Gresham, I had, again, the good fortune of an excellent teacher in English, Miss Wyeth. Gertrude and I indeed competed for her approval in the essays that we wrote for her. She not only very carefully criticized each essay submitted, but she had each member of the class do criticism on an essay written by another member of the class. I never, at that time, compared the quality of instruction in the small schools with that in the large schools.

I did recognize that the language instruction in Spanish was inferior. On the whole, I think I was as well instructed at the small school as I was at the large school. In my senior year I became the editor of the yearbook. The production of the yearbook was the responsibility solely of the senior class. We collected the advertising, we did all the layout and editing of the yearbook.

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