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Thursday, March 28, 2024
March 28, 2024

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Everybody Has a Story: Riding in Army Jeep home from school a thrill

By Laurie Brown, Formerly of Camas
Published: October 9, 2022, 6:00am

I was only 5 years old, but it seems like yesterday.

We lived in Camas and my dad worked at the Crown Zellerbach paper mill. He was a welder and worked on maintenance, so whenever the mill shut down or there were problems that needed fixing, he had to stay and work. In those days, the mill shut down for Christmas, Thanksgiving and Fourth of July, so he was at work those days — leaving my mom alone with four kids and, at that time, a momma poodle with tiny puppies.

Late in the afternoon on Columbus Day in 1962, the wind started to howl. Rain pelted down in blowing sheets while, overhead, lightning flashed and thunder cracked. It continued through the evening and we saw parts of roofs fly by and giant fir limbs crash to the ground.

And then the power went out. It became even more frightening as our house was pitch black with no electric lights, flashlights or candles.

I was the youngest of my siblings and scared to death. I remember crying and my mom telling me to stop because even the tiny puppies weren’t crying! That did no good. Truth to tell, she was probably as scared as I was.

Finally my dad was able to come home. With him in the house, it was less terrifying.

The next morning, we could see devastation everywhere. Large fir trees were down, parts of roofs were torn off and telephone poles were laying askew. We were out of power for several days and I remember my mom cooking on a camp stove in the kitchen. One of our usual ways of getting to town was inaccessible, but the other, a windy road to the highway into town, was open so my parents were able to get supplies.

Finally we were able to return to school. My siblings were in full-day school but since I was in kindergarten, I rode the bus home at noon. The bus couldn’t go up the hill toward our house because phone poles were down, crisscrossing the road and entangled with wires. My bus driver told me to get off the bus.

(To this day, I wonder what she was thinking, letting me off in that dangerous situation.)

I was the only child to get off at that stop and it was still almost a mile to my house. I didn’t know what to do so I stood looking up the hill, at all those downed power lines, and started crying. I knew enough not to climb over the poles, but it was very scary.

A neighbor finally saw me, came out to help and got me home.

I suspect that when my dad got home from work and found out what happened, the school got an angry phone call. He was not happy at all. I think someone at the school took charge to make sure I got home safely after that.

Back in those days, Camas had an active armory with tanks and Jeeps parked outside of it.

So, the next day, when school got out, an Army Jeep pulled up toward the bus line.

The Jeep was driven by two young soldiers. One got out and called my name. He told me to get in the back of the Jeep, and they drove me home! I remember sitting in the back of the Jeep driving fast over bumps and potholes!

We sped past the downed power poles and dodged the tangled wires. It was thrilling and a bit mysterious as to why I got that special treatment, but it was and still is one of the best rides of my life!


Everybody Has a Story welcomes nonfiction contributions, 1,000 words maximum, and relevant photographs. Send to: neighbors@columbian.com or P.O. Box 180, Vancouver WA, 98666. Call “Everybody Has an Editor” Scott Hewitt, 360-735-4525, with questions.

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