A chip off the old block

Our family over the years had a strong relationship with Potlatch Forests Inc., who had mills in Potlatch and Lewiston. I only found out recently that my father also had ties with PFI. A distant cousin whose grandfather headed the Lucas logging operation had some documents that showed that.

The Lucas brothers Ralph, John (my dad) and Omer had a logging operation near Bovill, Idaho. They were cutting virgin timber, and the logs were huge, some so big that you could only get three on a logging truck.

The family had a pretty large block of land, using mules and horses, you earned your way back then by sweat.

They used the large crosscut saws to fell the timber, so going was slow.

All the family that existed in the 30s was involved in just about everything.

My dad, John, was the youngest of the boys and worked in the full operation, including the cooking. He was a good cook, particularly I found out, with biscuits. They seemed to float in the air.

All good things come to an end, and when the timber was gone, everyone was on their own. That’s when my dad took an assignment with PFI. Wages were pretty low in those days.

A log rolled over, and he broke his leg. I vaguely remember my dad in a leg cast and being home.

But in the spirit of survival, when my dad was able to go back to work, he bought a dump truck and hired out with that.

The PFI mill in Potlatch attracted my employment in 1948, where I worked for four years.

I learned a number of jobs and became the relief person, letting people go for their breaks.

That’s where I learned to grade lumber.

My brother Bob was out of work, so I got him to apply at PFI, and he was hired.

He was still working there when I left. My brother, David, also worked at Potlatch but later transferred to the mill at Lewiston, where he worked until taking a job with Western Pine Association, an enforcement body that made sure contractors used the grade of lumber contacts called for. He retired from there 25 years later.

I decide to leave the mill when it became too much to drive to see my girlfriend, later my wife. The trip was almost 600 miles and I would leave when my shift was over on Friday, drive back Sunday.

The mills were the primary place for jobs then. Sad to say, but the mill in Potlatch no longer is there.