My Recollections (1956-1965)
by Roger Merrill
written June 2009
The Winfred and Elaine Merrill family moved to Eltopia in the summer of 1956 from the beautifully green town of St. Anthony Idaho, located on the Snake River in southeastern Idaho.
Eltopia at that time was much larger and nicer than it is today because of a large government camp, called the Bureau Camp, which housed many of the workers on the Columbia Basin Project. In 1956 there were more than a hundred quonset huts, permanent homes, and T-houses (so-named because the house was in the shape of a T) in the camp. It had lots of trees and green lawns.
Eltopia contained the area’s only gas station, post office, schools, country store (which we owned), four working grain elevators, farm center, and telephone exchange. It also had a couple of paved roads, trees, and running water. This was in contrast to the Basin which was barren, treeless, dirt roads, and no running water, except for a few central wells. Eltopia must have been a touch of civilization compared to the farms just outside of town. In the earliest years the farmers lived in whatever shelter they could manage. Ernie Baker’s first home just outside of Eltopia was a hogan built of grain-doors borrowed from the railroad and covered with sagebrush. The Hopes lived in a chicken coop; the Listons, Sharps, and Johnsons lived in the end of their sheds; the Mackays lived in the smallest trailer you could ever imagine (with their kids packed in like sardines), the rest lived in whatever shelter they could throw together. It wasn’t long before government prefabs were moved onto the farms to provide more comfortable dwellings, and a few regular houses were built as well.
The only phone service for the area was a telephone exchange, ran from the Stredwick home in Eltopia, but only a handful of homes in Eltopia had phones. These were the old-fashioned crank type in a wooden box with separate mouth and ear pieces. To make an outside call you turned the crank on the side of the box which rang into the Stredwick home, where one of the twelve Stredwick kids answered (there was always a kid around to answer the phone). The kid would plug you into a line connected with Pasco, tell the operator what number you wanted to call, and make the connection. A lot has changed.
The Merrills lived in the back and basement of the old store in Eltopia, sharing the space with black widow spiders - but we did have running water. A few members of the Ward lived in the Bureau Camp: the Howe, Cunningham, Nielson, Wendell Merrill, and Horton families.
Most of the Mormons came from southern Idaho and northern Utah. A year after we moved to Eltopia, while I was in the seventh grade, our teacher Mr. Morris asked the class what religion they belonged to and the Mormons were the largest group, by far. (Our age-group consisted of Lynn and Lloyd Bleazard, Arlyn and Von Johnson, Karl Karlson, Nancy Bakan, Deanna and Lauanna Hope, Sharon and Diane Gibbons, Mike Prefontaine, Sandy Sharp, and Sandy Herron, with an even larger group just younger than us).
A branch of the church was immediately organized with Grant Bleazard as our first Branch President. We were part of the Richland Stake whose boundaries included all of the TriCities and stretched as far north as Othello, and as far west as Walla Walla. The Stake Center was the beautiful red brick building in uptown Richland.
To get to Richland you had to cross the old bridge (which no longer exists) connecting Pasco and Kennewick. The bridge was a bare-knuckle experience to cross, with just enough space for two vehicles to pass. My dad drove school bus for a single day and had to cross the bridge. It so upset him he gave up the job. The three current bridges crossing the Columbia had not been built in 1956. A ferry operated for a few years on Selph Landing Road which shortened the trip for us to the Stake Center.
Our Stake President, President Thompson, was a tall, broad-shouldered, grandfatherly figure with white hair. He was a city-man with a common touch that allowed him to easily preside over a Stake with both farmers and nuclear engineers. He was a great Stake President. Although Richland was a long distance to travel, we hardly missed a single meeting, thanks to good leaders. Stake Conference was held a couple of times at the Pasco High School Auditorium, later moved to the Kennewick chapel, and then to Richland.
Initially, our first branch meetings were held in the basement of the Rigby home. They had a beautiful home with a glass fireplace in the middle of the room. Within months the branch outgrew the Rigby home and moved to the old school in Eltopia, where we held our services until we moved to the church on Eltopia West Road. The old school was the community center with school during the week, basketball games on the weekends, Mutual, Primary on weeknights, and Sunday School and Sacrament Meetings on Sunday. This was a time of great equality, since everyone had nothing.
While we were still meeting at the old Eltopia School my mother Elaine was the Sunday School Pianist for a time. One Sunday morning I got it into my head that putting thumbtacks on the hammers of the piano and making it sound like a steel guitar would sound really cool. While everyone else was in Priesthood classes I slipped into the gym and placed the tacks on the hammers. Normally my mother arrived in time to play some prelude music, but this time Sunday School had already started when she slipped in and sat down at the piano. When she started to play I knew it was a bad idea. The metal-on-metal twang brought the whole meeting to a halt. With the whole congregation looking for the culprit, the men got knives from the kitchen and proceeded to pry the tacks loose. My mom was fit to be tied, but nobody knew who had done it and I was not telling. When we got home Mom told me she was going to catch the rascal and I was to keep me my eyes and ears open and report to her. The truth finally came out thirty years later.
It wasn’t long until we moved to our Church on Eltopia West Road. In those days, in addition to tithing and fast offerings, each family was asked to contribute to the Ward budget and building fund which provided the funds necessary to operate the wards and stakes. The Ward decided to buy and operate a farm to provide money to operate the ward and meet the Stake assessment. The farm was purchased, but before the farm could be placed into operation and a building placed on it, the land had to be cleared of the thick sagebrush which covered it. To clear it, the men used a brush clearing machine pulled behind tractors. This machine consisted of a high speed spinning tube of chains which pulverized the sagebrush when it drove over it. Hay rakes came along behind and raked the brush into long rows to be set afire later.
The Saturday we burnt it up was one the funnest days of my life. The kids in the ward were each given oil cans with a torch on the spout that dripped burning oil. The entire day we walked along the rows of brush and set it afire with fire dripping from our cans. A lunch of sandwiches, potato salad, and chocolate cake was provided by the Relief Society, and it never tasted better. The entire ward turned out, men, women, children, and teen-agers. It was an unforgettable memory.
I remember when they moved the two buildings that formed the new church onto the property. The buildings had originally been WW II army barracks in Richland. They were placed on trailers, ferried across the Columbia, and set on the property just east of the current building. Joined together, the two buildings made a very comfortable church and community center.
Initially, the church contained a long hall down the middle with small rooms on each side the entire length of the building. The Ward quickly transformed the building by removing the walls in the west end to form a large chapel, with an attached kitchen. Three rooms on the east end were joined to form a single room for Junior Sunday School, Seminary, and scouts. The church was given a coat of white paint and a large lawn planted in front. There was no air conditioning, so during the heat of the summer, the windows were opened and a few portable fans circulated the air. We stayed there for many happy years. This building became the center of our lives.
In those days Priesthood and Sunday School were held in the morning, and Sacrament Meeting later in the evening. Primary was held after school during the week, and Mutual and Relief Society were held on week nights. With all of these meetings the church became both a social and religious community. With sports directors, dance directors, drama directors, speech directors, plus all the classes of Young Men and Women, it seemed the entire Ward turned out for Mutual. There were lots of dances (attended by young and old), parties for every holiday, basketball and softball teams, roadshows, plays, and dance instruction. I can still remember the effort I went through to get together a pirate costume for the MIA Halloween party, only to be beat out by George Bakan, who came dressed as a Russian Cossack in his mothers old fur coat, cap and fake mustache. The dances were almost always decorated with crepe paper false ceilings and live music. The Mackay Band provided countless hours of dancing. These events were hugely supported by everyone in the Ward. We were really our own little community. I am sure it was a lot of work, but the members were young then and the ward provided for most of our social needs. And it was cheap. At the Ward dances we hardly ever considered dancing to recorded music. The kids at their own dances danced to rock and roll from records, but the Mackay band played for almost all of our Ward dances when the parents and kids both attended.
I remember one time when the party was a complete flop. Both the kids and parents were trying to dance to records but nobody was getting into it. Finally my mother, who had played piano in a dance band for years in Southern Idaho, told me to turn off the record player and move the piano onto the floor. She sat down and started pounding out dance hits by ear. Cecil Barrow ran home and got his ukulele, someone made a drum out of a few chairs, and they had a instant band. This turned the whole party around. Everyone was up and dancing and having a great time.
Bishop Rigby was a major influence in our lives. He was the Bishop for all of my teenage years. The Priests quorum was very large and almost every young man ended up going on a mission. He was enthusiastic about the gospel and literally bubbled over with excitement as he participated with us in quorum meetings. He was always at our activities.
The Ward became the social center for the youth. There was very little dating within the group - we simply hung out together. On many occasions we rented movies, popped popcorn and had our own Saturday night theater at the church. I can still remember Topper Returns.
We were not exactly angels though. A couple of summers we went on Scout outings into the mountains of the Idaho Panhandle. This was quite a big event involving a lot of adults, gear and vehicles. The kids rode in the back of a farm truck. It was quite a long drive in the middle of the summer and the kids soon got bored and it wasn’t long before they started throwing rocks. A rock hurled by a strong arm from a moving truck going 65 MPH can do quite a bit of damage; in fact it can totally crush and knock down a mailbox or sign. Rocks were being hurled in all directions but the driver never had a clue anything was going on. When they got to the towns the rocks were replaced by eggs hurled at stores and cars. This went on unnoticed for most of the trip. I happened to be in my dad’s pickup a mile of so behind the truck and we commented on the number of downed signs and mailboxes along the side of the road; but we never connect the dots until later.
When we got home the cat was out of the bag and we caught it. Bishop Rigby came into the Priest’s Quorum and was livid. He threatened to never allow another Scout trip again.
Everybody in the Ward added to my life.
The Wilsons were beekeepers and loved honey.
Ernie Baker taught me in Deacons (he pronounced it “dinkens”) and had the patience of Job to put up with me. I went out of my way to aggravate him.
Boyd Mackay was the most faithful home teacher I ever served with. We home-taught a hard core inactive family and Boyd engaged them in intense gospel discussions by the hour, while I sat on the couch anxious to go home.
Although my attendance at Seminary was sparse to say the least, June Monson was a memorable teacher.
Warren Mann had the only boat in the ward and with great effort finally got me up on water skis.
Grandmother Davidson stood up to bear her testimony in Fast Meeting and asked Gordon Mathews out of the blue to sing “I know that My Redeemer Lives” as part of her testimony! He actually did it.
Lynn and Lloyd Bleazard brothers were my best friends and their mother Mary was a wonderful cook. I loved to go to their home on Sunday afternoons and hang out.
Thayle Nielson honked every time he blew his nose (which was often), and used the expression “good hell Renee” a lot.
Deanna and Lauanna Hope were like sisters to me. I loved to dance with them, even though they were my cousins. I was lucky to have the entire Hope family in the ward and a part of my life.
Leuetta Monson was the Dairy Princess for the county, and was an accomplished pianist.
Bill and Bonnie Robison were great dancers - right out of the forties.
Julie Mathews was one of the kids and loved to engage in heart to heart talks.
Randy Ririe was a great friend that I always wished I could be more like.
I left the wonderful Columbia Basin Ward to go on my mission in 1965. I was only in the Ward for ten years of my life, and have been gone for over forty, but the memories of the people and times were will go with me into the eternities.
The whole Columbia Basin experience was a mixture of the “Grapes of Wrath” and the City of Enoch. No better people ever existed.