They Served

(Editor's Note:) Thus writes Waitsburg native and World WarII Veteran Jim Hansen in his memoir, "The Best Part Of Life,"

which he recently completed at age 89. Starting this week, theTimes will publish an excerpt from Jim's book in three installments.We hope this will inspire other Touchet Valley veterans tosubmit or tell us their stories from past and present wars so ourcolumn "They Served" can continue to chronicle their legacy.

The Best Part Of Life - Part 1

By Jim Hansen My parents, Albert Hansen and Margaret Leid were married June 14, 1916. This was against Granddad Leid's wishes, but the son-in-law later proved to be an asset to him.

Mom and Dad lived with Grandad Hansen on South Coppei Creek for about four years while Delbert, Helen, Mary (deceased baby) and I came into the world. I, James Ellis Hansen, was born May 19, 1921, in Waitsburg at Dora Miller's house on West 4th Street. Dr. Carver, with the help of a midwife, delivered me.

When Mom couldn't put up with Granddad Hansen any longer, Mom and Dad accepted a farming lease of five years on the adjoining land. Mom was a very strong and capable woman, determined to make a better life for her family. She loaded their few household belongings on a small sled and down the road she went. This included a Monarch kitchen range that she cooked on most of her life. It was here that I began to notice my surroundings, taking for granted that hav­ing very little was a way of life. We made our own playthings, swimming pool, roads, went fishing, caught crawdads. I rode on the hay sleds with Dad and went with Mom to the fields while she shocked the wheat for thresh­ing. In those days, entire fields were cut with a six-foot cut binder, shocked to dray and then picked up with a sled pulled by horses. Then it was hauled to a stationary threshing machine pow­ered

by an Advance Rumley steam engine. The separator or threshing machine was a Pride of Washington made in a Walla Walla factory on West Main.

Radio was the new en­tertainment about 1930, and few people had a set. Of course, they were battery operated because R.E.A. was not introduced until about 1939. We went to George and Mary McClure's place to lis­ten

to "Amos Andy," "Lum Abner," and "Fibber Mc­Gee Molly," our favorites, on a regular basis. There was no shortage of neighborhood kids to play with, the McCau­ley and Brodhead boys. The big winter flood of 1931 devastated Walla Walla and Waitsburg. Our central school had its share of water, so classes were cancelled for several days. We couldn't have gone anyway because the county road bridge next to our house was washed out, too.

Red ground squirrels and magpies were fair game, and plentiful, too. They were a good source of income as the bounty on squirrel tails and magpie eggs were five cents each, mature birds ten cents each. I remember Mom sold hen eggs at the grocery store for 11 cents a dozen. We told her she should sell her hens and raise magpies. I became a good squirrel trapper be­cause they were so thick in our alfalfa field. My first full-time job was tending header on our Case combine that was pulled by 21 horses. Dad drove, Del­bert

was the machine man, and we had a sack sewer and a sack jig. I was 12 years old, riding the combine for fun. But the next day I rode be­cause I had to. The man hired for the job got the summer flu and had to quit. I tried to prove a boy of my age could not handle the job by raising the header too high thereby missing heads, or going too low and taking too much straw. I was on the machine between Dad and Delbert; they would give hand mo­tions for me to either raise the header or lower it. I couldn't get away with failure, so thought I may as well do it right. Since then, I have been cutting off wheat heads every summer of my life. From the day I became old enough to help Mom, we developed a very close relationship. This is not to say we didn't have our ups and downs. Because of her interest in livestock, and the remote location and dif­ficulty in traveling from the mountain place to school, the folks bought the old Bateman place on the end of Orchard Street in Waitsburg. This consisted of a big, old house, a barn and 10 acres along Coppei Creek, which proved to be a very good place to winter the livestock. This en­tailed a great deal of moving, not only the livestock but pig houses, panels and other sup­plies. Mom was not one to hold back or put things off, so she went around Dad, know­ing she had an ally in me. We always jumped into the task of getting things done. I real­ized this was creating more of a triangle as time when on, which finally led to Dad's early semi-retirement. I am sure he felt left out and was hurt on many occasions. Mom and I loaded hogs for market, and as usual, half of them got their heads on the wrong end, making them difficult to put into the truck. Consequently, we got a little messed up with you know what. When we went into the house, Helen, Ruth and Rena said, "Pee-ooh, you stink." Mom said very sternly, "The money won't stink!" She worked very hard to have cream, eggs and hog money for every member of the family. The money had to be spread very thin at times, but she always had enough food, clothing, shelter and love for all of us.

High school provided a full and pleasant four years, especially since we had a winning football team for two years. Baseball was my favorite spring sport, and I pitched a no-hit game against Prescott. FFA was great, too. My hog project provided some income to set aside for college and helped me buy my first used 1929 Model-A Ford Cabaret for $80. Being shy and bashful, I was not thinking too seri­ously about girls. Besides, I felt very immature and thought a few years in col­lege would be the right thing to do. Our class graduated in 1939. Most of us spent 12 years together and were very close. Twenty-four were in the class with only eight girls. They seemed more like sisters to me than classmates. It was a time for making seri­ous decisions: go to college, go to work or join the Army. Looks like I did all three.