Day: July 20, 2017

CHAPTER 24

      All my life, I had always driven a nice car. For the last several years, it was Hudsons. A new one every couple of years. I put a lot of miles on them. They were great cars. The last one I had was a Hudson Hornet. At the same time, we had a Jet. A cute, little car. Helen drove it a lot. Then in the spring of 56, I traded in the Hornet and bought a brand new Golden Hawk, Studebaker. In it was a big souped up Packard engine. It was advertised as the world’s fastest stock car. And I guess it was. The speedometer registered up to one hundred and sixty. Just exactly a hundred over the state speed limit.

      Of course our few stock holders would growl about every time Dell or me bought anything. Compared to us, they only had a few bucks invested. But they sure could complain. I guess we finally got fed up. We handed in our resignation to our secretary. “Give them a copy each.” We told her. “Let them run it for a while.” Besides, I was getting sick of this town. We found a nice little house over in South Boise. We rented a truck and moved over. Dell did likewise and started building a house of his own, out on the Boise bench. Our marriage had not been a very happy one lately. I was in hopes that it would improve. At least I would get my wife out of Pop’s cigar in Emmett. But, I didn’t know it until after we had moved in. Around the corner and down the street about a half a block was an old street car that had been built over into a beer joint. The place was called The Trolley. Before the sun set that first day, Helen had found it and moved in. I guess she just plain liked places like that.

      I immediately began working on our new project. The Kitty Kat Sand Kit, was the name we finally settled on. A few blocks from where we lived was a railroad siding. Off to one side was a cinder block factory. Here, they made white cinder blocks. They looked like concrete but much lighter. These white crushed cinders were bought in by the car load. I stopped at the factory and picked up a sample. I wondered how they would work instead of sand. In the Kitty Kat box. This material weighed about a third as much as sand . It was like a crushed sponge and very absorbent. And the cats loved it. Not only would it cost about a third the price of sand. It was like a crushed sponge and very absorbent. And the cats loved it. Not only would it cost about a third the price of sand but our shipping costs would go way down. We still had a lot of empty boxes left. We would give this pumice or cinders a good try. They worked out better than sand. We were tickled pink. Someone suggested that we put in some sort of a deodorant. Something that would keep the smell down. Dell knew a druggist in town. We went to him for advice.

      It didn’t take him long to come up with an answer. He handed us a big box of powder. “This,” he said “will not only do the job but it is very inexpensive. Chlorine, used in purifying water. Kills all the germs. A table spoon of this in a quart of water, will make a product equal to Clorox. I would suggest about a teaspoonful to each of your boxes.” Well that problem was solved. We thought.

      We ordered a truck load of cinders delivered to a building we had rented. We boxed up a bunch of the stuff and went to many of the local grocery stores. Also the pet shops. Most all of them said that they would give it try. We would were now confident. We ordered ten thousand boxes with a master crate that held twelve of them. It took only about a week to box the material and put it in the master crates. Then by truck, we would send it to Portland Oregon. Our stamping ground. No need of starting in a little place like Boise. Think Big. We contacted a truck line and sent all of it to a bonded warehouse in Portland. In a few days I would follow up in my Golden Hawk. I would start the ball rolling.

      About a week later, I arrived in Portland. I was as usual, alone. I rented a room in nice motel and went down to the warehouse and picked up several cases of the product. The next morning, I would get busy. The following morning I had breakfast and started out. My first destination was a large pet shop on Burnside. I pulled up in front of it and stopped. I would just take in one sample box I decided. I opened one of the cases, then pulled one out. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Instead of a bright yellow box, with a big black cat on it and gay colored trimmings, I was holding a faded thing with only the faint outline of the big cat. I dumped the rest of them out on the seat. They were all alike. Then the odor of chlorine filled the air. That deodorizer was also a very good bleach. And those ten thousand boxes in storage, absolutely worthless. That afternoon, I hired a truck to haul them to the city dump and headed for home.

      Weeks later, we turned the deal over to a group of men who wanted to give it a try. From each package, we would receive a royalty. As far as I was concerned, no longer would I be The Cat Shit Kid. Which was the name all my friends called me. I had had enough of this. Us putting chlorine in those boxes, was about as stupid as brother Ray agreeing that that was a BAIL OUT LOAN. Well, you can’t win them all.

CHAPTER 23

      We hung on for a couple more years. If we had got that loan, we would of been sitting pretty for life. But that is past history now. We never able to make the grade for glass sand. It still contained just a little bit of iron. Too much to make crystal glass. It would take a few thousand more dollars of equipment and that we didn’t have. Our big debt at the bank plus their high rate of interest was about all we could handle. There seemed to be only one way out. Sell the place. We had taken most of Del Monte’s business away from them. They would be a good prospect. Besides, this company was owned by the same company as the other ones that had the famous golf course. Pebble Beach. The seventeen mile drive. Some of the big stockholders was Bing Crosby, Bob Hope and the list went on and on. I don’t think they ever run short of money.

      During all this time, my back was getting much better. I began to think that I was completely recovered. One day, one of our men didn’t show up. I took his place and handled those hundred pound sacks. That night, in great pain, I was taken to the hospital. I was there for about a month. I would never try anything like that again.

      Then one day, I got another brain storm. What started this, was the many people that would come to the plant and want to buy a few pounds of this nice white clean sand. And what was it to be used for? Kitty Litter. To go into the cat’s sand box.

      I went to work and designed a box. Made it of corrugated cardboard. It was a foot square and four inches deep. The only thing different about this was the fact that it would fold in the middle and close like a book. It was now a package four inches square and a foot long. And inside this neat package, was a sack of sand. Enough to fill the box about a third full. Also another thing. It was easy to dispose of. Just fold it shut and throw it in the trash barrel. I took my box to a firm in Portland. They looked it over and gave me a knocked down price by the thousand. It would take only a staple gun to put them together.

      I had also sketched a label for the thing. On all four sides of the package, was a big cat standing in one of our boxes. He was looking down into the thing and he was saying; WOW! INSIDE PLUMBING! Their artist went to work on the thing. When finished, the big cat looked a lot like Felix. The cat in the Disney cartoons. I showed the thing to Dell. He agreed that it looked like a winner. I had ordered a thousand boxes. We began experimenting. Every person that we knew that had a cat, we gave one. Then waited to hear the results. In every case, the results were; Good… Great… Just what we have been waiting for.

CHAPTER 22

      A lot of things happened in our years there at the sand plant. It is hard to recall them in the order that they happened. So if I get the horse before the cart at times, forgive me. I am writing all this strictly from memory. No diary or notes to refer to. As the things happened, drift into my head, I set them down to my type writer and get busy. Don’t even keep any penciled notes. So now I will proceed.

      During this era, Sister Jenny died. M.S., that deadly killer. And brother Bob, who was now a school teacher had also contracted it. He was doomed to a short life. He and his wife separated. Mother gave Bob a deed to the Bollinger place and both of them moved in there. Ray was now in his big, new house.

      Then, Bertie met Lorin Lee. Later they would be married. Also Gertrude met Stanley Harwell. They were engaged.

      Dell and I decided to build a big new sand plant with all new machinery. We spent months designing the thing. We had learned how to control the dust. Giant suction fans and a bag house. We would put in a big washer and a stacker. A big rod mill for grinding. Also magnetic separators to remove any iron. We were now after the glass market. This was the biggest of all. Doing this was going to take a lot of money. A lot more than we could raise. But by now, we knew that sand was among the best in the country. And there was a big market for it and would get larger as time passed. We had staked mineral claims on all of that big mountain. Sixteen hundred acres in all. This alone was worth a fortune. We talked with our banker, Mister Fikken. We told him our intentions. Finally we come to a decision. We would the new plant. The bank would finance us for a six month period. Then we would get a long term government loan. The banker assured us that this would be a cinch. Our company had such a good record. But there was one clause. The bank would only loan a certain percent. We had to put up the rest. We thought we had enough money, so we started building. Before we were finished, we found out that it was going to cost quite a bit more than we had figured. To solve this problem, our lawyer advised us to sell a little of our stock in the company. So we formed a corporation. The Gem Silica, Inc. Then we sold some stock. Fifteen thousand dollars worth. Brother Ray bought five of it. I guess we thought his money was as good as any one’s. Hetherington Electric bought five also Chauncey Payne, another local fellow. Finally, the big new plant was finished. We now had a much greater capacity. I was on the road steady. Setting up new dealers all over the west. I traveled day and night.

      It was somewhere in this area that I began to realize that my marriage to Helen was beginning to fall apart. Now for the last several years, I had spent most of my time on the road. First the Dent Removers, then the sand. I guess Helen wasn’t the kind of woman to be left home alone. For that matter, who is? Joe and Sandy were now in school. She was home alone most of the time. And I guess she decided to do something about that. She spent most of her time on a bar stool in Pop’s Cigar store, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. When school was over, Joe and Sandy knew just where to find her. Sometimes they would pace up and down that sidewalk for hours, waiting for her to come out. When ever I would as much as suggest that she don’t go in there quite so much, she would get angry and tell me to shut up. Now, I was no angel. Usually after work, I would have a couple of drinks myself. But I can honestly say and I guess that goes up until right now, I have never missed a days work on account of drinking.

      I thought maybe if she had a job, she would be more content. We gave her one at the Sand Plant. She would be our new bookkeeper. Before noon the first day, she sent one of the guys to town for a six pack. She worked only a couple of days. I should of known that she wasn’t the kind of person that could sit behind a desk all day. Helen liked company. She liked to have someone to talk to. Some one to visit with.

      But we had our moments. After Bertie and Lorin were married, we took a big , long road trip together. I had a new Hudson. The four of us got in it and took a long trip to Canada. We went up through Calgary and clear on north to Edmonton. We come back through Bamph and Waterton. Helen had relatives all over Canada. We had a great time.

      Helen and I were both great fight fans. Harry (kid) Matthews from Seattle, originally from Emmett, was a contender for the heavy-weight championship. We took in most of his fights here in the west. Now back to the sand plant.

      We still had not got our government loan. Our payment and interest at the bank was really high. If we didn’t do something about it pretty soon, they would foreclose. Dell and I decided that we would put all our eggs in one basket. We traded our contract with M.K. and the royalty to the bank for part of the debt. With this much paid off, it would be a cinch to get that government loan. At least, that is what we thought. Ray and the other two stockholders had been very unhappy. So far, they had received no dividend. Getting this loan would solve all our problems.

      Then we had everything all ready. The government man was coming in from Washington D.C. Our banker assured us that he would recommend us highly. First he met with the guy. They were both all smiles. Then the final meeting down at our office. And of course, brother Ray come along. The guy laid all the papers down on the table. “Everything seems to be in order.” he said. “There is just a couple of questions that I would like to ask.” Ray’s big mouth took over. “Sure, ask us anything.” The guy sort of grinned. “I know that this sounds foolish, but I must ask.” From Ray. “Go ahead and ask.” “Well here goes. This by any chance, wouldn’t be a bail out loan. Now would it?” There was a big grin on brother Ray’s face. “Mister, that is exactly what it is.” The guy looked amazed. “Then I will have to refuse your loan.” Dell and I exchanged glances. We were speechless. I think Ray began to realize just what he had done. But he made no effort to correct this statement. The guy gathered up the papers and walked out the door. I took Dell by the arm and led him out of there. From the looks on his face, he could of strangled brother Ray to death. And I couldn’t of blamed him one bit! Every dime that Dell and me had was invested in this thing. Including our royalties from the limestone project in Durkee Oregon. This alone, would have kept the both of us for the rest of our lives. Then that night, brother Dell got drunk. The first and only time I had ever seen him that way.

      I stayed with him for a while. We were both quite upset to say the least. Our big bubble had burst. I stayed with him for a while, then went home and crawled in bed. About one o’clock in the morning, our phone rang. It was Lillian. “Get over here quick.” she said. “Dell is drunk and he took our shot gun and some shells. I think he is going to kill Ray.” I guess I knew Dell better than anyone else. I knew what the sand business meant to him. Knew how he felt about a lot of things. As soon as she hung up, I called Ray. I told him. “Dell is drunk and has a loaded shot gun. You had better keep hid out until I can get a hold of him.” I hung up.

      It was only a short distance to Dell’s house. I got there just as he was getting in the car. The old double barrel was in his hands. Lillian was crying, trying to reason with him. I told him to put the damn gun away. We had had enough trouble already. Then suddenly big tears come to his eyes. He handed me the gun. “Take it, before I change my mind.” I don’t know if Ray ever realized how close to death he was that night. And I wonder if he ever bothered to find out what the phrase, bail out means. Even a rat leaving a sinking ship knows that.

CHAPTER 21

      After I returned home, I went right to work experimenting on Freezeout Hill, sand. There was one thing for sure, there was enough of it. Probably one of the largest deposits in the world. Most everyone discouraged me. “It’s not worth a damn for anything.” They would say. “It won’t even make concrete or plaster. “In a few years, it falls apart.” I took a shovel and a wash tub and brought a couple of hundred pounds of it down to the house. I gave it a thorough inspection. I got a hold of a set of testing screens. I made sure the material was good and dry, then I started sifting. I come up with about ninety percent pure white sand and ten percent just plain old clay. It was easy to see why it wouldn’t make good concrete. That fine bauxite clay would dilute the cement. Make it rot away in a few years. And, the sand was far too course for the many things it would be used for. It would have to be crushed. I went back to the hill and brought back a pickup load of the stuff. I sifted out all the clay and put it in some used paper sugar bags. Then I looked around for a crusher.

      One of my neighbors, Walt Smith, had a hammer mill. He did custom grinding. I talked him into running this batch through his hammer mill. At first, we had the thing going too fast. It was turning everything to dust. But after a bit, we found the right speed and salvaged most of the sand. Boy, it was now sure pretty and white. The stuff looked like table salt. I had brought back samples of Ottawa sand. I compared them the best I could. They looked quite a bit alike but the Ottawa sand was round like bird shot. This, was jagged and sharp.

      Brother Dell and I always confided in each other. We shared with each other, like brothers should. He was building an apartment house in Boise. I went to see him. I told him about what I had done and showed him the sand. There was a fellow in Boise that was a professional sand blaster. His name was Ben Stadler. We went to see him. I had a small bottle of twenty mesh in my pocket. I handed it to him. He poured out some in the palm of his hand and looked it over carefully. “Sure is sharp.” he said. “Boy, I’ll bet that would sure cut. And if the price is anywhere near what I have been paying, I could use a hundred ton right now.” I helped Dell finish the building and we took off for Portland. The west coast was where the big market would be, we decided.

      At that time, wall board was not allowed in that area. Maybe not even yet. It would draw moisture and fall apart in that damp climate. We contacted Pacific Building Material co. The largest in that area. We had brought along several bags of thirty mesh. This was the size best suited for the finish coat. George Erwin, the manager, took one look and said. “One of our best plaster contractors is working on a building right down the street. We will let him give it a try.” We held our breath as we watched the guy finish one room with our sand. When he was through, there was a big smile on his face.

      “Boy, “ he said. “That is the best sand that I have ever used. And it goes about twice as fast as that Del Monte sand from California. It isn’t round and doesn’t roll under the trowel like that beach sand. No chicken tracks.” “And you would use it if it were available?” “Sure. And so would every other plasterer in this area.” We explained to George that we weren’t quite ready yet. But as soon as we were, we would get in touch with him. He gave us some good advice. “Some low cost items carry a special freight rate. And sand is one of them. Go to the railroad and apply for the same mile rate as Del Monte and Ottawa and you will be sitting pretty. You are much closer than either one of them.” We thanked him and took off for home. Then we designed and built that first sand plant. No one else was involved. Just Dell and myself. We had a lot to learn about processing that sand. And no one to teach us. Naturally, we made mistakes. Controlling the dust was a big problem. And there were other things. One of them was, we had run out of money before we got going. But we borrowed from the bank and finally made it.

      Dell run the plant. And I was on the road again. Selling sand. From the day that we started up that plant, we never shut down for a single day. I sold all the sand that it could produce. But we had lots of trouble. The old power shovel that we had bought to load the sand was old and kept breaking down. The trucks that hauled the sand were also about worn out. And everyone was yelling that we should be shut down on account of the dust and the noise. We sure shouldn’t of built that close to town. But we were learning the business. And our sand was in big demand. We were shipping from one to two car loads a day. Fifty to a hundred ton.

      Again, I could write a whole book about our experiences in those years that followed. But I will cut it as short as I can. We could see that we had a great thing going but we were in need of a new plant. This little pilot plant, had served it’s purpose. Also we needed a new shovel and trucks. And a lot more things. Oh yes. There is something else that I must bring up. I made a lot of trips to Portland, Spokane, Seattle and other cities in the Northwest. I usually went through Baker and LaGrande. And of course, right through the town of Durkee Oregon. In this town, was a huge Cement plant. Oregon Portland Cement. They had been there a good many years and their mountain of limestone was about gone. The word was out that they were going to move.

      I was aquatinted with one of the fellows that worked at the plant. One day, I was stopped at the restaurant having lunch and he come walking in. We talked a while, then I asked him. “I hear you are going to move?” He nodded. “I guess so. We are about out of limestone.” Then I asked him. “How about the mountain up the canyon about a mile. The one across the road?” “The one all covered with brush and juniper?” “That’s the one.” “Our company hired some engineers to look the thing over. I guess down underneath all that overburden, is solid granite. Anyhow, that was their report. Anyhow, a couple of old boys has mining claims filed on it. I guess they think there is something valuable under there.”

      One day when I had just returned home, I told Dell. “You haven’t been away from here for a long time. I think you need a vacation. Take your wife and go up to Durkee. Then I told him what I knew. Also what I suspected. They took off. Well, I certainly didn’t send a boy to do a man’s job. About a week later, Dell returned. And with a handful of contracts. A guy by the name of Ivan Thompson and another guy had staked out that big mountain. They had dug some holes and found limestone. Dell had told them how we had started the sand plant in Emmett. He convinced them that we could help them. They signed a contract. What ever he could sell that mountain for, they would get half. The other half would be ours.

      By this time, those two Dewey Bros., Ted and Dell, were getting quite will known. They had the reputation of being a couple of goers. I told Dell to finish up what he had started. He jumped in his car and went to Boise. The home of the famous contracting co. Morrison & Knudsen. He sure didn’t start at the bottom. He made a good sales pitch. The cement co. was running out of limestone. All the sugar companies would need a new source. And the many paper companies in the north west would be out of limestone. The thing was right on the railroad and all it would take to find out if it was there, was a drilling crew for a couple of weeks. The next week they started core drilling that mountain. In about a month’s time, they had proven over ten million tons of pure limestone. And for sure, there were millions more. They put in a railroad siding and giant crushers on the mountain. Soon they were shipping from twenty to thirty car loads a day. We and the old prospectors at Durkee divided twenty five cents a ton royalty. Thanks to brother Dell, we had done this one in a hurry.