52 Ancestors: Transportation

This week's blog prompt is Transportation.  I've already written a few times about transportation - Machines and Roadsters and Cars, oh my!  and Cruising so I wanted to focus on something different.  While some might have been obsessed with cars, planes, or trains, what little girl wasn't obsessed with HORSES?

We started with one horse, Smokey Joe.  I think we got him in the summer of 1964, shortly before my 10th birthday.  I don't remember how or why my parents finally let us take the plunge but boy were we excited to bring this mellow guy into our lives.  I think he was about 3 years old (or maybe 5?) and for whatever reason, I seem to remember my parents paid $300 for him.  His former owner was about 15 or so and while she loved Smokey, she wanted to move on to a different horse that she could train herself.  We kept Smokey at the same stable so she was fortunate enough to be able to see him and watch his progress with two new owners.

Me, Sister, Little Brother with Smokey Joe
c. 1964

It didn't take long for our parents to figure out that two girls obsessed with horses couldn't really share a horse so we were quickly on the lookout for another one.  I don't remember any specifics of bringing Snapshot (nee Snip) into our family but there he was!

Snapshot AKA Snap

Boy did we have fun with those horses.  Mom and/or Dad would drive us (about 20 minutes, I think) out to the ranch in the morning and we'd spend the day until someone would arrive back to take us home.  There were many kids with horses so there was always someone to "pal" around with.  Three are etched in my mind - Sue (who was Smokey's former owner) and her horse, Cleo; Rick, and his horse, Cy; and Kathy and her horse.....darn, I can't remember the name although I can see him/her clearly in my mind.  Oh wait, I found some pictures.

Sister, Snap, Kathy, and, and, and....

Sue and Cleo

It didn't take long before we got involved in 4H and showing our horses.  While there was one show arena we could actually ride over the hill to get to, Dad was a good sport and actually drove us to some shows.  We didn't own a truck or horse trailer so we must have borrowed those or, at times, someone let us add our horses to their trailer.

All dressed up and ready to go!

I always loved having Smokey decked out with a blue saddle blanket and a matching rider - sure made his grey dapples standout.

I have a few favorite memories of showing these two - one which involves another form of transportation, the horse trailer.  Snap was not easy to get into the trailer and it always involved a lot of coaxing, crossed fingers and prayer.  Smokey, on the other hand, loved to get into a trailer - we'd throw the lead rope over his neck, give him a little nudge, and into the trailer he went.  Good boy!  Although I'm not sure the owner of the neighboring horse trailer was too happy with him when without any coaxing, he decided the grain inside the trailer must taste mighty fine so he loaded himself in and started munching away.

Snap and sister were very successful at the shows and garnered many ribbons and trophies.

First place trophy!

I didn't excel in the award department but boy did I have fun!  The highlight of my career, though, was my first place trophy in Showmanship.  What a thrill!  And because my number that day was 99, it led to my favorite number from that point forward being 9.

My one and only first place trophy - I still have it!

At some point, even little brother joined in the fun.  I have zero memory of this but he must have been called into action once sister went away to college so Snap could get some exercise.

Look at those cuties!

And look at that, Mom even took a turn.  But what's with Smokey wearing a hat???

Dad, too, got into the act.  Wait - WHAT????

Now THAT'S a different breed of horse!

I sure have some wonderful memories of my years with Smokey - the way he could eat an entire apricot and spit out the pit, the way he would come running when he heard me knock on his stall door, or the hours I'd sit on him backwards resting my book on his rump while I read.  We had a few not-so-good memories, too - the worst being the time my sister's friend fell off Smokey and broke her shoulder.  Thankfully, she healed up fine and the friendship between the families didn't go south.

As time went on and two young girls became interested in other things (college, cars, and boys), riding those horses became arduous and we decided it was time to give someone else the joy of owning a horse.  I don't remember what happened to Snap but I remember vividly making the "deal" for Smokey to head south for someone else to love on.  I remember once a few years later taking a drive by where he moved to, not sure if I was wishing I would see him or hoping I wouldn't (I didn't).

Sure, I had other forms of transportation over the years like cars, boats, trains, planes, and roller skates, there has never been any other form of transportation that brought me so many hours of joy.

Me and Smokey Joe
AKA Smoke-alot-of-cigarettes

52 Ancestors: Harvest

This weeks' blog prompt is HARVEST.   Hmm, while I'm sure that I had a few farming ancestors I really don't know too many specifics about what they farmed and, ultimately, harvested.  The only harvesting that came to my mind was my maternal grandmother and her husband, my step-grandfather, harvesting eggs.  I've written about that before but it's been a long time so I'll take the challenge one more time.

Clara (Fitzgerald) and Shell Hunter

Based on this newspaper article, they bought their property in late 1956 or early 1957.  In an instant, they were chicken farmers!

Fresno Bee, September 27, 1959

Retired Telegrapher Finds Poultry Flock Demands Work

When Sheldon A Hunter of 2341 West Olive Avenue, Fresno, retired in 1955 as manager of the Fresno office of Western Union, he recalls he did not know the difference between a laying hen and a bantam chicken.

Today the grey haired Hunter is the knowledgeable owner and operator of a 2,000 bird egg laying flock, who maintains he "never worked harder, made less or felt better."

Hunter and his charming wife, Clara, bought the one acre layout two and a half years ago when it included only 600 hens  They have expanded cautiously and only recently constructed a new cement floored laying house featuring the latest in wire cage operation.

Hunter, whose Western Union career covered 47 years, including 35 years in Fresno, credits feed company salesmen and breeder representatives with a big hand in helping him learn the poultry business.

"We thought this would be an interesting part time occupation," Hunter grins, "but we find there is always something to do, repair or change.  And these birds need a lot of care.  But we like the idea of keeping busy."

Meet Their Customers

Since all the Hunter eggs are sold directly from the small combination garage and egg processing room, the retired couple enjoy meeting people who stop to purchase the eggs.

Mrs. Hunter chuckles as she recalls a visit by a 10 year old neighbor girl.

"She wanted to borrow three eggs because her mother was baking a cake and didn't have enough," she says.  "But she assured me she would soon return them because her mother was going downtown and would buy some there."

Have Fruit Trees

Along with the modest sized poultry setup, the Hunters are proud of their variety of fruit trees, ranging from figs to persimmons, a vegetable garden and boysenberry vines.

While the Hunter operation ranks quite small as compared to some of Fresno County's sprawling commercial laying establishments, the owners keep abreast of the latest breeding developments.  They are grooming a new experimental White Leghorn strain obtained from Washington State which is said to lay larger eggs for specialized poultrymen, who have a market for them.

I even have the photo they included in the article in my collection (thank you, non-packrat Grandma!)

Sheldon Hunter, 1959

NEW OCCUPATION - Sheldon Hunter, a retired Fresno telegrapher, has found that "wire" means more than a telegram.  Here Hunter inspects his recently constructed wire cage house for his West Olive Avenue flock of white Leghorn layers.  Bee Photos.

I remember so much about the operation but some things from this article stick out in my mind.

Most of the operation was run from the garage.  Here we helped to clean and package the eggs.  Look at all the egg cartons!  My favorite part was weighing the eggs and then putting them in the appropriate carton - small, medium, large, extra large, and jumbo.  If we were really lucky, we'd get a "pee wee" egg which we loved to take to school for show and tell.  The weighing machine would have been behind the big stack of eggs above my head.

Sister, Grandpa Shell, Me
c. 1959-1960

Even little brother got into the act once he joined the family.  So many egg cartons!

Brother, Grandpa Shell
c. 1963-1964

Grandma spent a lot of time in the processing room candling the eggs to ensure that the eggs didn't have blood in them.

Clara (Fitzgerald) Hunter

The lights were turned down as Grandma put each egg into the lit container in order to see shadows of what was inside.  Then she’d turned it over and put the other end in and repeat the process.  This was a very delicate procedure and one we weren’t allowed to help with.  But while she was doing that, we’d sit at a table with baskets of eggs and one by one we’d clean them, careful not to break them.  And before the automatic egg scale, we'd put them on a manual scale and estimate their size.

Sister, Me, Grandpa Shell cleaning and weighing eggs

But before any of this could happen, we'd collect the eggs.  Even when the chickens were locked in those new wire cage houses, it was a bit overwhelming for young girls to be in there with SO. MANY. CHICKENS.  And while I realize the wire cage house wasn't something you'd see today and would probably cause a visit from animal rights activists, it did make it much easier to just walk by and pick up the eggs.

We were ready for this important job!

There were also areas that were like a big stall where the hens would all run loose.  I don’t remember collecting eggs in there so they must have been the young chickens who weren’t producing yet.  I didn’t really like going in there as those birds would run around and sometimes even fly at you.

I'm surprised that the farm was only 1 acre - it seemed so much larger to me.  Maybe their cautious expansion included buying some adjoining property?  I also don't remember fruit trees, a vegetable garden, or boysenberry vines.  There might have been a fruit tree here and there but I don't remember too many.  What I DO remember is a fish pond with abalone shells as the top layer of the sides of the pond - so pretty.  I think there were fish in there but I don't remember specifics.

I know these chickens were a lot of work.  When we’d be visiting, Grandma and Grandpa would have someone (normally Grandma's mother, Mabel (McAboy) Fitzgerald) come to the house to “chicken sit” if they wanted to go out to dinner with us.  And traveling even for one night was next to impossible for them.   I will always remember Grandma sitting in the warm Fresno sunshine, cleaning eggs while listening to her beloved San Francisco Giants on the radio.

Not your 'normal' harvesting but boy did we have fun helping harvest eggs!