GROWING UP

In the summer of 1950 my father was stationed at Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage Alaska with the U.S. Air Force Security Service. The US had entered the Korean War and Elmendorf was a refueling and logistic stop for men and supplies flying into Korea. The base had been built in 1940 during World War II and it was primitive at best. Dependents, families, were allowed to live there but there was no base housing and no materials available to build new base housing. America was at war. Families could wait.

 

 My father and many other service men wanted their families with them. So, in the spring of 1951 my father flew to Scott Air Force base in Illinois to take us back to Alaska. He bought a new Chevy "Carry-All" the for runner of the Suburban and a 20 foot mobile home. We left in June of 1951 on our move with everything we owned. I was four years old and my sister was two. We drove the 4374 miles from Saint Louis to Anchorage. Driving during the day and living in the trailer at night. All this was before interstates. We drove on two lane roads to Seattle, about half way there. From Seattle we crossed into Canada and the Al-Can Highway.

 

 The Alaska Canadian Highway was really a gravel road for 2,000 miles. It had been built during World War II to move troops into Alaska to fight the Japanese. The road was rough and washed out. We were in a truck pulling a trailer. During the trip we had 47 flat tires. My father would jack up the truck by hand, remove the tire, take out the tube from the tire by hand, patch the tube and pump up the tire. Think about doing this just once. He did this 47 times. The trip was long and much harder than either of my parents had expected. After 15 days we had reached White Horse in the Yukon Territory. We were broke. No money, flat tires and two small children. My mother went to the parish priest at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and explained our situation. She gave him her wedding rings in exchange for money to get us on to Anchorage. My father told him, "I will be back for those rings."

We drove on to Anchorage. My father and his friends at the Base Motor Pool had borrowed a Bull dozer and cleared some land next to the base. We parked the trailer there and lived for two years. Then, when the Korean War ended, my father was stationed in San Antonio Texas. We sold everything but our clothes to another family who did not want to drive to Alaska. We boarded a ship at Seward and sailed to Seattle. When we arrived, we took a Cab to the Mercury dealer and my father bought a new 1953 Mercury V8. We drove to San Antonio. The rings? My father drove back to Whitehouse to get the rings and paid the Priest. He gave them to my Mom again on their anniversary in 1952.