The Very Beginnings
Dear Larry,
You wanted to know something about how and why we met as we did fifty-four years ago. As is the case with almost all enduring associations, it began with a girl.
When
my father divorced my mother and moved to Mount Baldy I was somewhat despondent. True the separation
was depressing, but the thought that I might have been able to live in one of
the cabins that lined the roads in the San Bernardino and San Gabriel Mountains
almost overpowered me. I knew the mountains from the time I was a child and I
felt that I was meant for them. As I have written elsewhere, I was a Mountain
boy along with being a Creek boy. My ideal setting for a home would be in the
mountains, next to a trout stream, surrounded by pine trees. I hanker for snow
fall, particularly at night with a warm fire in an open fireplace. I had all of
these things at Forest Home, every weekend from October of 1959 until the
following July. I could not have asked for more; I was satisfied.
East
of Redlands, by following highway 38, a wilderness enthusiast can soon find
himself in one of the most glorious natural settings in California. Within a
twenty mile radius can be found San Bernardino Peak, Shields Peak, Grinnell
Mountain, Anderson Peak, and San Gregornio Mountain, all in excess of 10,000
feet. It is a spectacular Wilderness Area. From the junction of highway 38 from
Redlands and Mentone and the main road from Yucaipa, the road enters the main
defile of Mill Creek Canyon and quickly climbs in elevation. The view up the
canyon focuses on Anderson Peak at 10,864 feet and San Gregornio directly
behind at 11,459 feet. For seven miles the roadway winds around the southern
skirts of Morton Peak, with Birch Mountain and Wilshire Peak rising from the
south side of the canyon. After those seven miles, the highway doubles back on
itself and climbs to Angeles Oaks, passes on the south of Sugarloaf Mountain
and then winds around through the eastern part of the national forest to Big
Bear City. At the point where the road double back, a small improved road
climbs south and east to Forest Falls, a small community half way between San
Bernardino Peak on the north and Wilshire Peak on the south. A mile or two
before Forest Falls, the main road passes through the middle of Forest Home, a
conference center owned and operated by the Baptist Church.
Forest
Home was divided in two, Upper Camp and Lower Camp, now called Lakeview and
Forest Center. The Upper Camp was located on a ridge to the north of the main
road. To get to the Upper Camp the camper would walk or drive east for a mile
or so where the road from the Upper Camp joined the main road from the north.
Upper Camp was quite new and well-appointed. A lake, called Lake Mears, had
been made by damming a large creek. The road made a picturesque loop around the
lake and ended in front of the main lodge and an apartment complex. As it sat
on the edge of the ridge, the view into the upper reaches of the canyon were
beautiful. The view down into the valley was obscured a good portion of the
time by the smog blown in from Los Angeles. The view and the complex were
luxurious enough that most of us staff members seldom found ourselves at the
Upper Camp. We were allowed on infrequent occasions to swim at the lake when
there were no paying guests to attend to. We were also called up once or twice
to deal with wildlife that had ventured beyond their established boundaries.
The
Lower Camp was quaint. The main lodge and dining hall was located right off the
road on the south side of the highway. All of the food and supplies came into
the camp through that lodge. I frequently found myself functioning as a dock
loader without belonging to the union. All of the staff quarters were located
at Lower Camp. Management staff had their own homes to live in. The boys and
the girls had their own cabins. I cannot recall ever having been in the girls'
cabin; I am not even sure where it was. Just as well, I suppose. The boys'
cabin was across the highway from the main lodge and down the ridge a hundred
yards or so. The residence was rustic, but comfortable. I enjoyed staying
there.
Up
the hill to the south were an amphitheater (now called Victory Circle), a small
camp store (now called Blinco Lodge and Bookstore), and a small chapel (now
called Cook Prayer Chapel). The rest of the camp was given over to cabins and
small dormitories. Down the hill to the north ran a small stream, a tributary
of which had been dammed to make the lake. The creek ran down the canyon from
Forest Falls and environs. I do not know whether the stream had fish in it; I
never had time to find out. I did have time to sit on the bank of the stream,
however; sometimes by myself, sometimes with my friends when they were willing
just to listen to the wonderful natural world we were part of. Each season had
its own charms and I could not have been happier than when I was in camp with a
little free time to drink in the mountain air, filled with the smell of pine
resin. It was for me, a taste of heaven. I was also in the company of angels
who were determined that I would become one like unto them. They succeeded far
better than they knew, although the fruits of their labors would take some time
to develop.
I'll write about the girl later.
Paul