Scott Swanson
Tony Farque – aka J. Roy Blake, Sweet Home district ranger – was in fine form as he chatted it up with the Civilian Conservation Corps workers sitting in the amphitheater at Longbow Organization Camp Wednesday, Aug. 22.
“You could have gone AWOL,” Farque said, impersonating Blake. “But that’s why they shipped you so far away from home.”
Farque’s living history/reminiscence performance was part of the Willamette National Forest’s annual potluck picnic honoring the contributions of CCC Company 2097, young men who built roads and trails, campgrounds, telephone lines and many other projects between 1933 and 1942.
Sweet Home Ranger District employee Candice Gray, right, looks over photo albums brought to the picnic by Richard Chrissinger.
The five CCC alumni who attended Wednesday’s picnic shared their memories with a group of more than two dozen family, U.S. Forest Service employees and others who gathered for the event. The youngest, Bill Albright of Lebanon, is 87 and the two oldest, Ken Molver of San Francisco and Harold Lill of Albany, who are 95.
The latter were the only two who actually worked in the Sweet Home area, but all were part of the CCC prior to World War II, when they entered the service. Longbow itself was built by the CCC, along with House Rock, Fernview, and Trout Creek campgrounds.
Company 2097, formerly Company 1314, was organized in 1933. The members moved to Camp Cascadia, located along the South Santiam River east of Sweet Home, in 1934. While working in the Willamette National Forest, Company 2097 built 35 miles of forest roads and 80 miles of trails; installed 17 miles of telephone lines; built six fire lookouts and eight bridges; landscaped four acres of grounds near the Cascadia Ranger Station; constructed two large dwellings, an office building and a gas and oil station; and spent more than 7,000 days fighting wildfires.
Farque and the alums recalled the military-style discipline in the camps. Farque said hazing was common for new initiates, including such experiences as finding sand or lizards in one’s bed, or finding it run up the flagpole, or getting tossed into a cold river. Or, a newcomer could be told to go out to water the flagpole.
“The initiation rites were rigorous,” Farque said.
He and the veterans discussed the good times the CCC boys had on weekends.
Molver and Lill especially recalled rollerskating in Lewisburg on Saturday nights, each member of the party chipping in for gas.
“Philomath had a college. Independence had the teacher’s college. Corvallis had Oregon State. They all went to Lewisburg to skate,” Molver said. “Nobody ever went home with anybody but you could fall for anybody.”
Farque said that, after initial concerns, local communities realized the CCC was a big positive.
“At first communities were a little nervous but after a year, year and a half, they became very supportive,” he said. “These guys spent money. And they got education. Tens of thousands of young men learned to read and write.”
CCC service paid off in toughness and discipline, several of the alums said.
Richard Chrissinger, 90, who drove his truck from Missouri in three days for the event, said he believes it was a crucial aspect to America’s response to World War II, as 3 ½ million CCC alums entered the service.
“I believe the experience I got from (the CCC) probably saved my life many times during my military career. We got the basic training and discipline. When World War II came along, it was a quick fix.”