Dad's Story Part 13

Graham-Paige automobile

          My grandfather, James A. Gilbert stayed with us a part of the time that we lived in Spokane.  Grandfather Erick Henry Ericksen died in December of 1929, and the summer after his passing away, grandmother Ericksen and Jerry came to Spokane to visit us.  Shortly before their visit Dad had bought a new car, a four door Graham-Paige.  He bought it from a car dealer in Opportunity, Washington, which is a suburb east of Spokane.  Dad was very proud of this car, and it was the finest one we ever had.  Dad took a two-week vacation during the summer of 1929, and to help “break-in” the new car we decided to take grandma and Jerry back to Mt. Pleasant.  The car was pretty well loaded with three adults, two teenage boys, and my brother Frank, who was nine years old, and Frances who was one and a half years old.  Everything went along beautifully until we got nearly to the Utah border.  Then just a few miles north of Preston, Idaho, as we were going up a slight grade on a very twisty road – a big green car coming down the hill and around a blind curve suddenly appeared on our side of the road.  In order to avoid a head-on collision, Dad quickly swerved off the road and into the ditch.  The car tipped over on its right side, but since we were not going very fast at the time, the car was not too seriously damaged.

 Mother and I were the only casualties.  We were both sitting on the right side of the car.  I received a couple of deep cuts on my left elbow and third finger.  Mother’s right leg and hip were injured, but not broken.  Several people stopped to help us and rendered first aid to Mother and I.  The car that forced us off the road, did not stop, but sped on down the road.  The car was put back up on its wheels, and we were able to drive on into Preston, Idaho where a doctor sewed up my cuts.  I’m sure the Lord was protecting us during this mishap.  If Dad had not reacted so quickly, we could have all been killed.     

            While we were in Utah, Uncle Ralph Ericksen, who played in a dance band in Salt Lake, helped us pick out a used alto saxophone.  My first formal music training had begun in Lewiston, Idaho, where I had been exposed to piano lessons for about two years.  For some reason or another I did not enjoy practicing the piano and as a result my progress on the piano scarcely got off the ground.  I remember spending a lot of time trying to convince my Mother that I should be spared the agony of continuing my piano lessons.  She finally gave in after I compared my piano lessons to the drudgery of scrubbing clothes on the washboard, which she was doing at the time I thought of that argument.

       Another musical adventure that I had while we lived in Lewiston was with a Hawaiian steel guitar that we ordered from a magazine advertisement.  The “deal” included self-instruction lessons, which I worked at diligently for several weeks.  My interest in this so waned as I was not destined to be another Alvino Ray.  

Shortly after returning from our trip to Mt. Pleasant, Utah with Grandma Ericksen and Jerry, Dad was transferred from Spokane to Great Falls, Montana.  There he was promoted to assistant division manager of the Continental Oil Company.  This was in the late summer of 1929.