Logo
 HomeBuy a BookDocumentariesContact


Andres Favela

Beth & Walter Tuttle

Billy Owens

Bobby Glover

Bruce Anderson

Bud Johnson

Captain Rainbow

Carroll Pratt

Don Pardini

Don & Sally Schmidt

Joyce Murray

Keith Squires

Leo Marcott

Lidia Espinoza

Ross Murry

The Soto Family

Tony Sanchez

Wayne Mcgimsey

Beth & Walter Tuttle
- 992k
 
- 480k

 


Lulu: My name is Lulu McClellan, student historian from the Anderson Valley Junior High North Coast Rural Challenge Network’s Oral History Project. I’m here today with Beth Tuttle. Thank you, Mrs. Tuttle, for inviting us into your home. Would you tell about how you came to Anderson Valley?

Mrs. Tuttle: I was born in Anderson Valley, and I happened to be born just south of the Methodist Church in Boonville. There was what they called then, instead of a hospital, a lying-in home where the women stayed and took care of us. The doctor was from Navarro. There was a big Navarro Mill, and they had to have a doctor there in those days. That doctor came up, but let me tell you, he didn’t get there until after I was born. And I was such a little baby, that after he got all his paperwork done, he went back to Navarro and brought his wife up because he’d never seen such a little baby before. And look how big I grew!

Lulu: Why did you decide to stay here?

Mrs. Tuttle: Well, in the first place, my family was here. My dad worked in the area. Then after high school I went to college for four-and-a-half, five years I guess, and I came back to teach school here. At that time, it was very hard to get a teaching job, because of the difficulties in the economy, and so I taught school at the Indian Creek School. And after that, I always stayed because we married, my husband and I, in 1940. He was a building contractor and worked all his contracting life in Anderson Valley, and so I stayed.

Lulu: What do you like about Anderson Valley?

Mrs. Tuttle: Well, I like the views of the hills. I like the quietness, except sometimes it gets a little noisy outside my window at night with the boom-boxes! But we don’t mind it too much! And I love the redwoods. I like to walk in the redwoods. It’s close to the ocean, and it’s real country. It’s also close to all the places I might want to go: Santa Rosa a lot, Ukiah, and I love to go to San Francisco where I lived for two or two-and-a-half years.

Lulu: How has Anderson Valley changed in your lifetime?

Mrs. Tuttle: Well, I used to live at Peachland, as I told you before, and we would come down every Sunday to Boonville to see my great-grandmother, who had raised my mother. I came first in a spring wagon, with the horses and all that, and that was exciting. You know, when we’d come home in the evening, my sister and I and my little brother would sleep in the back, but finally I got so that I wouldn’t sleep. I would say, "I know where we are now." I’d shut my eyes. I can still travel that road by memory. Just like it was ‘cause it didn’t change much, as you well know. And then my dad got a car. When we moved down to the Valley, there were very few cars. In fact, it would seem crazy to you, but at night my sister and I would listen to a car coming up the road and we’d say, "Oh, that’s Mr. Gowan." Then there’d be a rattle trap one come up the road. We’d remember that that was one of the boys that went to high school. You know, maybe we’d hear five cars while we were listening, but the one thing I remember about cars is Mr. Clow’s. You would know the grandson, who used to have Jack’s Valley Store? Perhaps you’d know it before these owners have it now? Anyway, the grandfather bought a new Ford for all his four children, and they all came down through Boonville. It was a big excitement, you know, to get out and see those. What kind of Ford was that? Oh, a Model "T" Ford. It was one of the first Fords, anyway, so that was kind of nice. We have airplanes now that come in and out.

Lulu: What was one of your most memorable moments in Anderson Valley?

Mrs. Tuttle: I had so many and I had a hard time thinking what they would be, and I think I wrote down that I think it was my wedding day for I was married here, if you can believe, in that little church up here. That was 57 years ago.

Lulu: Can you tell us some stories of your life in Anderson Valley?

Mrs. Tuttle: Well, as a child I was going to school, of course, all the time. I went to Peachland School, and I went to Con Creek School, and I went to Anderson Valley School, where the Legion is now, for just a while, and then I went to Indian Creek School. I never knew I would return there and teach, many years later. Then to the high school. Our high school, at that time, was built for 75 children, and it’s been torn down, of course. Let’s see, oh I know, I’ve lived in five houses in Anderson Valley since I was married, and they were all built by my husband. That wasn’t always easy ‘cause I’d get used to a house. This was a way of saving money, you know. He could sell his house and build another. I would just get good and settled, and there we’d go. The last one was a two-story house, and you can still see it over on the subdivision. I was walking when we moved that day and I said, "I hardly knew you, House." We lived there six years though. And so now we’ve lived here, in this house, 21 years and I’m not moving!

Let’s see, I was very busy, teaching school, and we had children. I stayed with my children for five years--no, I stayed for ten years before I started teaching. I taught four years at first, and then the other years after my children were ten years old (the oldest) and five (the youngest). And then our family grew. Betty came to our house to live, and that was a happy day.

And let’s see, I’ve done a lot of sewing. I was going to bring out some of the costumes that I’ve made. I made George Washington’s, and Martha’s one special day. My husband was in the Boon Town Players, and they had many plays. He was always having to have a costume. One was a clown. I can’t remember too many of the others. And then we square danced so long, maybe ten years, and I made so many dresses. I like that too. Now, I don’t sew much of course.

Lulu: Can you tell us some more about your school?

Mrs. Tuttle: My first teacher at the Peachland School, way up that road. Do you know where the Peachland Road starts up?

Lulu: Yeah.

Mrs. Tuttle: Five miles up there was the school and, if you could believe this, a young woman came fresh out of school. Her name was Miss Barbee and she taught until Christmas. And then after Christmas, she was married. At that time you couldn’t teach if you were married--the women couldn’t. But the strange thing about it was that her father was the Mendocino County Superintendent of Schools, and he would come by and visit, as they did in those days. I didn’t like that at all, because I was the youngest, at that time, and he would put me on his lap. You know, oh my, that was discouraging for a little kid. But anyway, if I had known how important he was, maybe I would have been glad. But then I had a man teacher, Mr. Carlson, after Christmas, because he happened to be just out of college and needed a job. Then I had Mrs. Strolkle, up there, and she was a women who lived alone up there, and taught that little country school. And somewhere in one of the studies, it said they got $50 a month. I don’t think that was very much do you?

Lulu: No!

Mrs. Tuttle: Then Blanche Brown came. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her. She was a wonderful teacher, and she lived down in the Valley with her parents until she had gone to Sonoma County to teach. And then she had a nervous breakdown, just tired out, and she came back to live with her parents. They asked her to take the Peachland School, and she did. She rode up there horseback from her place at Philo.

Lulu: Whoa!

Mrs. Tuttle: There’s a pretty nice road to ride in those days, but it’s a long way I would think. It must be at least seven miles. So that was something nice. You can see that under the Peachland Schoolhouse, there in the back, high enough that that’s where the wood was always placed for the wood stove. That’s where the horse was all the day when she was at school.

And once upon a time she took me. I rode behind her and I went home with her for overnight and, my, that was a big experience! And when it was raining, or even a little bit of snow or whatever was bad, she would stay with my parents, because my mother and Blanche had been friends all their lives. Let’s see about that school.

Oh, my brother, my youngest brother, was on the way when I was in first grade, and so my mother came down to the Valley and lived with her great-grandmother, and took me, and my sister, with her. So I had to go to school up at the school in Boonville. That would have been, what do they call that now, the Senior Center?

Lulu: Yeah.

Mrs. Tuttle: Anyway, there had been a change of teachers in their building. They had a lot of people and some boys who were not following directions, and were being pretty bad, and so they had hired a lady to teach, who was Mrs. Honig. She had come out of a school where she had taught only boys who had had to come there because they hadn’t behaved well in other places. And, my, that frightened me to death. Everything was so regulated.

And then I, I didn’t know if I should tell this story or not, but I had to walk up with my cousin, Ross Adams, to the school every morning. He was the janitor and they didn’t want to send me by myself. So we would go in and these boys come. One day they threw these tiny little shells in the stove. Let’s see what do you call that, a B-B gun? Or another kind of gun? Anyway I didn’t know what they were then, but, you know, they always teased me terribly so I said, "I’m going to tell the teacher."

"If you tell the teacher, I’m going to cut off your ears!"

Did I tell the teacher? No! When she came in, those things went off. Then she came down all those aisles in the school, and they were all long aisles. She came in, "Do you know who did that?! Do you know who did that?!" And when she came to me, I burst into tears, and she went on. I just was afraid I was going to get my ears cut off, or something! That’s crazy, isn’t it?! My word. Oh dear. Anyway that’s about all of school. I do have some other funny things. When I taught at Indian--let’s see, what was that question now?

Lulu: Just, do you have any school stories?

Mrs. Tuttle: Oh yes, I had, at Indian Creek, when I was teaching school. The school was about where the Catholic Church is now. Anyway, I had this boy that had lived way up this road, and gone to school up there, but the school closed, so he came down here with his mother and so forth. Of all the things he kept getting. He got the chickenpox; he got the mumps; he got everything that kids have. And I said, "My goodness, it’s good to see you back. You think you’re going to have anything else?"

"No, my mother told me I hadn’t lived in ‘civil-ation’ before." That was the way he said civilization. Boonville wasn’t too great a civilization by then.

I had some other experiences when I taught down at Indian Creek School. One of the greatest ones was the fact that I had two brothers and a sister who had perfect pitch. They could start any song on the right note. We had a piano there, but often times I would say, you know, "Tom, can you start that?" And right out it would come. Or Jerry, or Mary... It’s wonderful to be born with that gift, you know, something unusual.

The other kind of story is we had windows all on the north side, as all schoolhouses were built at that time, due to government regulations. So when it was hot one day, we opened the window, right above where they sharpened their pencils. Billy came by, and he took a look outside, and he just jumped out the window. And it surprised and startled the kids of course. So, I opened the back door and he came back in, and I said, "Why did you do that, Billy?"

"Oh, it looked so nice out there, I just thought I’d jump out."

Lulu: Do you remember any unusual problems, such as extreme heat, or cold, or drought, floods, fires, earthquakes, anything?

Mrs. Tuttle: There’s two things I thought of. One thing, we did not have a fire department in those days. If there were fires, the smoke just covered Anderson Valley. A lot of people would set fires, to clear out the undergrowth, and so forth. So, if I were ever wanting to go anywhere, I would go in August, at that time, because the smoke just was layered over the Valley. And, let’s see, the other problem that I remember was the lightning that we had one day. That was when I was living with my parents down at--we had a house close to Con Creek. They had this terrible lightning storm, and my brother, my older brother, was there. He ran and picked up my little girl. We had her on a cot in one of the bedrooms, and you know how the iron top was on of those? He picked her up out of there, because he remembered he’d been touched by lightning once when he was small. So we were all scared. The house shook.

When everything cleared up, we looked out, and the wires, the telephone wires, that went across the road from our home, had just broken into pieces that size. (Beth shows a length about a foot long) Now you have different kind of wire, but I’d never seen anything like that. So there was a time there we didn’t have telephones or electricity, for a while. In fact electricity only came to Anderson Valley when I was thirteen years old. Oh, I thought that was the greatest thing!

Lulu: What were the every day difficulties of rural living? You said you didn’t have any electricity, was there any thing else?

Mrs. Tuttle: Yes, water was a trouble always. When you moved to a different place, if there was not water on the place, you dug a well. That was sort of unusual when you had to dig a well. Then if you didn’t get too much water, you had to conserve water, because you, you know, you’d let a bucket of water out of the faucet, and then you would use it without letting it run while you got a drink of water, or anything like that.

And, let’s see, there was a lot of difficulty, because this was in the years when there was a depression in the United States. I remember that I wanted to go to college, so I worked. I worked in a resort, and I got one dollar a day. And you worked all day. You had a break in the afternoon, but then you went and did dinner also. Everybody else was in the same boat. Nobody had much money, so we just did it. And, as I said, they talk about the poor people in cities and so forth. I think all of Anderson Valley was poor. We didn’t know it; we just went on. We went on living, and everybody worked as they could, and shared. You did without a lot of things. As I remember the clothing. Girls liked a lot of clothes and different things And as my mother sewed, we were more fortunate, my sister and I, but we didn’t really need anything.

Lulu: Do you remember any other residents, early residents of Anderson Valley, that you and your family knew?

Mrs. Tuttle: Well, I knew a man who was nearly a hundred years old, before he died, Lester Bivins. He worked around the town, and in stores and everything, and had a large ranch up on this road (Mountain View Road). I remember the J.T. Ferrers. The Ferrer building, up here, was owned by the Ferrers for a long time. And their sons worked in it. Unfortunately, their daughter was killed in an airplane accident at Apple Fair time, one time. That was a tragedy. I knew the Gschwends. They have a lot relatives in the Valley, still! Do you know them?

Lulu: No, well, I don’t think I do at least.

Mrs. Tuttle: Bobby Glover is related to them. And let’s see. They were sort of big families, and I guess they just married their neighbors, or something. And the Bloyds. They were related to the Gschwends. And I knew the Browns, and the Dutras, and the Haynes. Now I think there’s only Alice Haynes that lives here now. But they had a big family, and they lived up this mountain. And the Chrispens. Let me see, somebody that you might know, is the Gowans. I knew the older Gowans and I knew the Studebakers, because the older Gowan married a Studebaker. And, by the way, they always drove Studebakers because that was her family back there.The Days--there’s only Richard Day now. This is down in the area where you see the wineries, where they sell wine. They Days owned one of those places, and part of the others I expect. And the Nuns, and that’s the same area back down there, because they had sold their place to one of the wineries. They’re long gone, of course, and the Gosmans, Crispens, Donally. Let’s see if I can--did I say Ruddicks?

Lulu: No.

Mrs. Tuttle: Clow, of course. Sanders-- Mrs. Sanders had the store up town where the building burned.

Lulu: The Mannix building?

Mrs. Tuttle: Yes, uh huh. Prathers--there’s only Sammy Prather that I know now, but there were many. Katherine Eubanks was a Prather before she married. The McGympseys--that’s in my background. The Burkes--my grandfather was a Burke. The Johnsons--the Johnson’s Store was the Philo store. They had it fixed in a certain way that isn’t that way now. They hung extra things they didn’t have room for. They hung them on the ceiling. You know, you could go in there and there would be lanterns. Everybody had to have lanterns, you know. So if you broke your lantern, which you had to see by night, why you went down and got a lantern. They’d have to get up on their ladder, and get down a lantern--a lot of things up there. Kind of a handy way really. After going into the new Safeway in Ukiah the other day, I thought, "Well they don’t have a thing hanging from their ceiling." The Rileys, I knew them. I guess that’s about all that I wrote down there. The Bloyds--I was going to tell about the new chiropractor up town. If you go by you see his sign up there.

Lulu: Yeah, I saw that.

Mrs. Tuttle: He’s the grandson of Mrs. Bloyd, who lives here when she gets home, and the great-grandson of the man who was the doctor at Navarro Mill. And so, those are just about all the stories I think I know. That’s enough probably.

Lulu: Yeah. So, could you tell us about your family?

Mrs. Tuttle: Yes, we had two daughters. Our oldest one is Linda Stewart and she was born in 1943! She thinks she’s getting very elderly, but I don’t. Anyway, she works at the BLM, Bureau of Land Management. She goes and checks on all the areas of four counties, which I think is a lot of writing. But she sees the beauties in our forests. That’s one thing. And Doris, the second girl, works for the--she’s a claims adjuster for the state compensation insurance, which happens to be in the news right now. But I’m sure she does a good job. She lives in Santa Rosa. I have seven grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. Of the seven grandchildren, let’s see, four are out of college, two are in, and one is out working. And Rachel Hiatt- Henderson is my granddaughter, and she has The Horn Of Zeese, if you know where that is.

Lulu: Yeah.

Mrs. Tuttle: And, let’s see, the great grandchildren. I have to tell you, they are very smart these days. They know so many things. When the child was three, the little boy, he was looking up there and he said, "Is that Africa?" That was our clock, which is shaped like Africa. And do you know what shook me is, I didn’t think he’d know what Africa looked like! But they learn a lot of things and they have so much of a world opening up to them. I left out one grandson. After his college, he’s been hired in the Detroit area in the art field. He goes and buys for the company and he’s also good. Oh yes, I forgot about Betty! Betty came to live at our house when she was 10 years old. She has a store, in the mall, in Santa Rosa. It’s called the Country Crow. So if you ever go down there, walk upstairs and find the Country Crow. It is just a beautiful place. She loves the things that decorate homes, so now that’s her joy.

Lulu: Do you have anything else to say?

Mrs. Tuttle: No. I appreciate that you came and talked with me.

Lulu: Thank you very much, Mrs. Tuttle, for inviting us into your home and telling us all your stories about Anderson Valley. It was very interesting. This has been Lulu McClellan, seventh grader from the Anderson Valley NCRCN Oral History Project.

 

Lulu: This is Lulu McClellan––

Derek:––Derek Wyant––

Tom:--––Tom Jones––

Maria:––Maria Malfavon––

Mike:––and Mike Wellington, student historians from the North Coast Rural Challenge Network, Oral History project in Anderson Valley. We’re here today with Walter Tuttle, also known as "Shine." Thank you very much, Mr. Tuttle, for speaking with us.

Mr. Tuttle: I’m happy to be here to talk to you children. You––I call you children––you’re a little bit younger than I am, but you’re our future we have.

Lulu: Before we start I’d like to mention that we also interviewed your wife, Mr. Tuttle, as one of the first interviews of our first book which I was lucky to be a part of.

Derek: Most people around town know you as "Shine." How’d you get your name?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, I hope this doesn’t disappoint you because I didn’t get it from fightin’. (Laughter). I have had some fights, but I was lucky enough to not get a black eye. I got this playing basketball. (Laughter). I was probably a sophomore in high school, and there was a boy in front of me, and we both went up after the ball, jumped, and as he got up in the air he threw his head back and hit me right above one eye, and they both turned black. Well, they started to call me "Shiner" and for some reason they dropped the "er" and so ever since that, I’ve been known as Shine. I thought I’d leave that back in Iowa, but I didn’t, and my kid brother come out here before I did. We were down having a good ballgame down at the old high school, and the first thing I heard was someone holler "Shine," and I knew he’d spread the word. (Laughter).

Tom: Will you tell us more about your childhood?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, I was born and spent the first nineteen years of my life in Iowa on a small farm. My father was a building contractor, and I started to work with him when I was so small––I had to carry a bundle of shingles up on the roof––I had to break it open and take them up. I think I was ten years old. I enjoyed it and I guess I took that up as a life occupation. When I think about it, I had a wonderful childhood; we went to a country school. After I got through the third grade there was no school, and my sisters tried to teach me something. They were young––they were a good deal older than I am, and it was a big job for them ‘cause I didn’t want to come in the house and learn, and my younger brother, he also had to put up with that. One time they were standin’ at the window looking out, and was tryin’ to get us in the house, and the girls were crying. They said those boys are not goin’ to amount to anything. Well, she was almost right. (Laughter).
After that, we went to the county seat to the––they had a school there, and my brother hauled us in an old Model-T car. There was, I think, five of us, and that’s where I started the third grade and my younger brother started the first grade. Then, I think maybe the next year, we got enough people moved into the valley that they could afford to hire a teacher, so we had our own school. I think it was about three-quarters of a mile from where we lived. We walked through the timber, the three-quarters of a mile, which was lots of fun for kids. We thought it was a long ways. We took our mother back to bury her back in ’72 from Wyoming and then my brother walked up on the hill and looked over where the school was and my brother said, ‘You know, I got to go back to Denver and tell my daughter it wasn’t that far.’ So our legs must have been shorter. (Laughter).
As we graduated from high school, why, we moved off the farm; my father had passed away. My mother and my younger brother moved into town. I worked for the Bankers’ Life Insurance Company as a carpenter fixing up real estate. Back during the Depression, a lot of the farmers lost their farms to different big companies. One of ‘em was the Bankers’ Life Insurance. They foreclosed on ‘em and I would say that maybe over half of those two counties we worked in belonged to the Bankers’ Life. That was back in maybe ’28 when they started to lose the farms and this that I’m speaking of would be maybe ’34. They had already fixed up a lot of the farms. This was kinda the second time around for a lot of ‘em. I think that in the state of Iowa, they passed a law that they had to sell those farms back to anybody that wanted to buy ‘em because they had a monopoly. That’s what we were doing was fixin’ ‘em up, gettin’ ready for them to put them back on the market. That takes me back up to about 1937, that’s probably past my childhood anyway. I’ll take the next question.

Mike: Why did you move to Anderson Valley?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, most of my brothers and sisters went elsewhere from Iowa. There was just I and my mother left there in Iowa. In the fall of the year, when the weather got bad and we couldn’t work in the carpenter trade––we always had about three months off in the wintertime because the weather was too bad for construction work––my mother and I loaded up the old car and come out to California, because my older brother had come out here in ’36 and we came out to see him. He’d also brought my younger brother out when he’d been back there to visit for a few days. He brought my younger brother, Kenneth, out so we came out to be with them.

Lulu: What did you start doing when you got here; did you have jobs?

Mr. Tuttle: I went to work almost as soon as I got here. I’ve done some work here in the Valley for different people. Harry Neeson was one of the fellows. He lived over on––I guess they called it Rawles Lane––where you turn there at the telephone building back in there; I built a house for him. Then I went to Santa Rosa to work. They had a carpenter strike down in Santa Rosa; they were begging for carpenters. I went down and talked to a contractor and he put me to work. Of course then the union was right on me. (Laughs). Then when they settled their differences and I joined the union, I worked a couple years in Santa Rosa because they were not yet ready to pay union wages up in Anderson Valley.

Lulu: Do you have any buildings that you built in town that you’re proud of?

Mr. Tuttle: I didn’t hear you––

Lulu: Do you have any buildings in town that you’re proud of?

Mr. Tuttle: I’m proud of all of them. (Laughs) I––just pick out one––I really enjoyed my work, and I really––it was rewarding because you could build something, and you knew if you looked on it, you knew you’d do something good––it’d be useful for somebody. So to pick out one that I like the best––I’ve done some interesting ones, maybe they’d want to talk about it later. There was one that I built for promoting plywood for the construction of homes. It was not here in the Valley; it was out in Ornbaun Valley, Pardloe Crick.

Mr. Mendosa: Why don’t you go ahead and show us?

Mr. Tuttle: (Shows picture). This is a––the fellow was in the advertising business, Jack Bridgeman owned this property. He was advertising a––promoting plywood for construction, and this was Georgia-Pacific and we built this house for him––it’s quite different from most houses. This’d be like the rough framework––it’s more like what we call a post house now, and these big 8x8 posts were put up. The roof was made out of plywood; these are 4x6’s here, and they have plywood on both sides––it’s 1/2" waterproof plywood, and it was glued on there with Resorcinol glue, which really, really holds. And that’s where the strength comes from––was from the plywood on both of these sides of these 4x6’s. And they were strong and this whole overhang here you see sticking out is about eight feet. It got its strength from the plywood, and then we used it on the deck too, on the floor.

Derek: Did you build any buildings at the school here?

Mr. Tuttle: I worked on several of the school––I didn’t work on this one. When they let the contract––contractor in Santa Rosa had the job and the school board hired me to be their building inspector. I was to see that the contractor did what the blueprints and the specifications called for. So that was my job. I think my––I forget, but I think my wages was a dollar and a half more an hour than what a union carpenter would’ve got. I stayed here until it was completed. I think it’s been a pretty good building. I was thinking the other day––this is about forty-five years old. My daughter moved up from the old high school––my oldest daughter––when she was a sophomore.

Lulu: We’ve heard that you worked with Delmar June and that you have some stories about him, could you tell us about that?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, I could tell you some of the stories. Delmar was the most humorous person; it fit my needs. Some humor I don’t go for at all like your sitcoms that you have on the TV. When one of those comes on I switch the channels or turn it off because I hate canned laughter. I think I’m most intelligent enough to know when to laugh––when somethin’s funny, ya laugh! But Delmar had a sense of humor, and he didn’t think about what he said. It just rolled off his tongue. I’ll tell one story, but to tell more––you can’t appreciate stories ‘til you know who he’s talking about, the situation. My brother-in-law said to me one time, ‘Do you hire Delmar to help you or to entertain you?’ And I said, ‘Well, he’s a good help and the entertainment is not bad.’ (Everyone laughs).
One morning we went to work and we were talking about the weather, and it had rained in the night, and I said, ‘You know, Delmar, I built our house. It’s well insulated and we have double glass windows. And I can hardly hear it rain in the night and I didn’t know whether it rained or not.’ Delmar said, ‘I can feel it in mine.’ (Everyone laughs). The ol’ house that they lived in was the Fry place down there––and it’s been worked over several times, and it’s not as ramshackle as it was when he and his wife lived there and raised his children. But I can just see––and what he would say might not be all truthful, but it had enough of it in that it made it funny. (Laughs). And he was good help. I have some pictures here (indicates photos) of I and Delmar workin’ sometime, if you want to look at those. This is a good picture of Delmar close up. These photos are taken by professional photographer because it was for advertising to go in these magazines. Some of them are in the magazines so––it’s not––there’s Delmar and I puttin’ down the subfloor. Here is me with my head down, you can’t tell. And that view looking out through to the end of the house, gives you a pretty good idea of how the construction, how they––this is the picture of the interior of the house after we––

Lulu:––a nice house––

Derek: Where’s this house at?

Mr. Tuttle: It’s, if you go up to Ornbaun Valley and go through Ornbaun Valley and a little bridge––have you been up that way?––about half a mile through Ornbaun Valley. It’s over Pardloe Crick.

Mr. Mendosa: Is that off Fish Rock Road?

Mr. Tuttle: Yeah, I guess it is called Fish Rock Road. You have to turn and go back, back inside. It’s almost behind Yorkville. If you could get through there, maybe if you had to walk through there be about five miles. Pardloe Crick runs through there. They tried to mine copper there. And that was one of the reasons that my wife’s father come into this country as a young man. He come in here because his brother-in-law had a copper mine there. They also get mercury from copper mines. Alex, my father-in-law, came out there and it’s almost where I built this building out on Pardloe Crick. I think Guido Pronsolino owns that property now, if you know Guido.

Lulu: Uh, huh.

Maria: Will you tell us the story of how you met your wife?

Mr. Tuttle: I think I mentioned that I come out here in November of ’37. They had a dance on New Year’s, here in the Valley. My younger brother, and my older brother, and his wife went up to the dance. It was up above J.T. Farrer’s store.

Mr. Mendosa: Do you know which building that is ?––it’s where All That Good Stuff is…

Mr. Tuttle:––and, I got introduced to my wife that night. I think she had to come up to the dance under protest because she wanted to go with some of the other younger people to Santa Rosa or someplace like that, but lucky for me that she––(laughs)––but anyway, that’s the way we met, and that was––would be in New Year’s of ’38. And that was her first year of teaching. She was teaching at Indian Crick School. Anyone know where Indian Crick is?

Derek: Yeah.
Lulu: Uh, huh.

Mr. Tuttle: You know where Philo substation is? The schoolhouse used to be right there; they tore that out. And she taught one more year after we were married, and then she took off ten years. We had our children and then after the War, the baby boom hit the schools, and they opened up the school up where the Legion Hall is now, and they had eighty first-graders.

Maria: Wow!

Mr. Tuttle: So they asked Beth if she’d come back and help. We had a little girl that started the school that year, so she went to school with her mother. Beth said she never called her "Mother" one time during school. It was always "Mrs. Tuttle." But soon as the kids got on the bus to go home, Doris just piled right on her mother’s lap. (Chuckles).

Lulu: So how long have you been married?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, it’ll be sixty-two years this June the sixteenth.

Lulu: How long was it? Sixty-two?

Mr. Tuttle: Sixty.

Lulu: Sixty?

Mr. Tuttle: Sixty-two years!

Maria: Oh, my God!

Lulu: Wow!

Mr. Tuttle: We were married in 1940.

Lulu: And how did you manage to stay married so long? What’s the secret?

Mr. Tuttle: (Chuckles) Well, I think marriage is––you not only have to love a person, you have to be a good friend too. And I think Beth is just a wonderful person. You met her.

Lulu: Yes.

Mr. Tuttle: And you know what I see––always laughing, and she’s just, she’s easy to get along with. (Everyone laughs).
Mr. Tuttle: That’s probably the secret, there. She’s recuperating now from a broken hip, and it happened over three months ago, and it’s been a slow process. I know there’d be a lot of people that’d be hard to get along with, but not her. She’s a good patient. (Lulu laughs). She’s getting better. She walks in the walker now. I think it was a bad break because it broke in two places, one completely off where the big bone of your leg goes into the socket. Then it had a crack below that. I think that’s the crack now that gives her trouble because they replaced the socket.

Lulu: You where born in 1915, so do you remember any of World War I?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, the only thing I remember about World War I––I was only maybe three or four years old. And it had to be in 1918, or maybe ’17. Things were hard to buy then, or you couldn’t buy them. The thing that I remember about it was the cubed sugar that Mother had to buy and when you put that on your oatmeal, well, it was just like a rock––if you’ve seen cubed sugar. As a child I made quite a fuss over that, but that’s about the only remembrance I have of actual World War I.

Derek: Can you tell us about World War II?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, World War II, I didn’t get into World War II at first. I might say it changed my way of operation because in the building trade you couldn’t get material to build anything, like glass for windows. You couldn’t get windows. And I knew I had to do something else besides building. So I thought, I don’t wanna go to the shipyards because that’s where most men went, to the shipyards to work. My brother was down there, and he told me that they didn’t like it too well. There was too many men and not enough to do. I think he said what they had to do on one shift, they could do in five hours, him and his partner. And the rest of the time they had to be there, but be out of sight. That’s not a very good way to spend your time.
So I read in the paper where they were giving civil service examinations, to train aircraft engine mechanics, or airplane––I guess because it was engines, and the airship itself. So I took the examination and passed that, and the government sent me to school––down at Reedley Junior College in Reedley, California. And I forget how long I was down there. I had to go down by myself because Beth was still teaching and that was in the wintertime. I think I went down in maybe the following year. And then as soon as school was out, why, she came down. Anyway, you had choices of places you could go to work and Sacramento was not my place of choice, but that’s where I got sent––at McClellan Field––and I was assigned to the engineering department which runs the aircraft engines. And I worked on the test block where we tested the engines. And I was there about two years––almost three––before they finally decided that––they got down to my age group, and we had one child. And then the Field wouldn’t let me go––about three times that they tried to draft me, because it was a very important job that I was doin’ and I realized that. And they realized that––what I might tell you about the people that were over me––on the final assembly, they call it–– they worked the engines and this final thing that it went through before it went into the crate to be shipped overseas. All the people that were foremen and superintendents had been at Wright-Patterson Air Field. And most of them had been in World War I, pilots.

Lulu: Wow!

Mr. Tuttle: And they were a great bunch of fellows, and some great stories. They used to tell how they’d go up in those old planes and see who could leave the longest rubber mark on the roof of buildings. (Laughter).

Mr. Mendosa: What? They’d land and hit the roof of buildings? (Everyone laughs).

Mr. Tuttle: Yeah, and leave the rubber on there. But they were great fellas. Finally the draft board called me––I was crew chief––I had my own crew. And that was just in the engines alone, nothing to do with the aircraft itself. That was separate. And I was glad of that because I was inside most of the time. And the poor guys that had to work out on the field, out on those aircraft; sometimes the engines would be running, and the wash off of that prop would just freeze ’em. You could imagine what it would be like last night, if you were working on a airplane and three or four engines be running and blowing that cold air on you. But anyway they finally got enough engines, and they got down to my name, and they called me up. My wife and daughter––we lived in a government housing that they built for workers in the defense. So I went down to check out and they said, ‘You don’t have to go to do that. Didn’t you listen to the radio today?’ And I said, ‘Yes, I read that they didn’t want anybody over 27 years old.’ I was a little tired of working for the government because I’d been self-employed too long, I guess. I said, ‘I’m going back to Boonville. I have a truck coming, and I wanted to check out.’ We did, and we come back to Boonville.
And I had a notice laying on the porch that somebody had delivered from the draft board in Ukiah. It said you don’t need to report and we want to let you know that it is a penitentiary offense to not give your address (laughs) where you are supposed to be, because they tried to catch me in Sacramento and we had already left. That didn’t worry me so much. I stayed around Boonville for about over a year, I think it was, before I was called up again. The reason I was called up again was ‘cause of the Battle of the Bulge. If you remember the European front after D-Day and they landed and they got into France and things were going fairly well when Hitler made his last surge. He almost went to the sea, but they stopped him and they turned him around. He was outta gas. He was losing in Russia, and then it wasn’t too long after that he surrendered. He surrendered first and then Japan was next. I was probably on my way to Japan when they surrendered. So I spent the time over there in occupational troops. I spent ten months over there. It was an education in a lotta ways. I felt sorry for the Japanese people. They didn’t have enough to eat. They seemed to have a little money. At our mess hall we put the garbage out in cans out by the fence and the women would come with babies on their back and get into those garbage cans. That’s hard to take.

Lulu: Yeah.

Derek: Were you in Japan while the atomic bomb was dropped, or after?

Mr. Tuttle: It was dropped before. It was dropped three days before they surrendered; that’s why they surrendered, you know; that’s the reason they did surrender because they could see handwriting on the wall. I can’t tell you where I was. I was either at the port of embarkation or on the ship. I thought a lot about it. I didn’t remember the date when we got shipped out, but anyway, the bombs we dropped three days apart and they could see that it was all over. It was a good thing. I felt sorry, like everybody, that so much life was lost, but if they hadn’t dropped the bomb, ten or fifteen or maybe twenty thousand more people would have died if they went into Japan, if they hadn’t surrendered when they did. It would have been foolish because they would have got in, but a lotta soldier boys would have lost their lives, but I might have been one of ‘em because I was going over as replacement; I was on the way over.

Tom: So how did the Japanese treat the American soldiers that were in Japan after the bombs were dropped?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, the Japanese people themselves, as far as treating the occupational forces, showed no animosity towards us. I don’t think they exactly liked us, ‘cause a lot of them that could speak maybe a little English would say, ‘When you go home? When you go home?’ Well, they knew when we go home as much as we did. We didn’t know either, but I didn’t see anything out of them that was bad towards the occupational troops. I suppose there might have been some cases, but I never heard of any and I never heard of any of the boys that were over there that complained about that. I think the reason that it went so slowly was because of MacArthur. I mean when he took over the occupational command there, he must of had it well organized, but they showed no problem and the people that had any authority left, of the Japanese, cooperated fully.

Mike: Could you tell us about your general’s inspection?

Mr. Tuttle: General’s inspection? Well, that’s the funny one that I––you know in the army that’s one of the worst things that the GI’s have to put up with is the inspections from higher up. They sent word down to us that a three-star general was coming to look things over to see how things was going. They sent the Japanese in to work for us the ones--––most of ‘em was ex-soldiers, you know––and they had to have somethin’ to do or somethin’ to pay ‘em ‘cause they had to get some money to live, that’s what it is, so they done all the dirty work, you might say, that the GI’s would normally do around the post, so they’d send them in so for us to work ‘em. Well, they said, ‘Get your boys together and get things cleaned up, picked up.’ Well, I went out to get my crew and it happened to be their lunchtime and I couldn’t speak Japanese, and they couldn’t understand English. They did understand pick ‘em up, you know, pick––that’s what they had to do––police the area, and those little rascals didn’t want to go back to work, they didn’t want to––so they started running from me and they ran down through the tent area and me chasing ‘em and I was throwing rocks at ‘em and I got out to the road and here went the general by. (Everyone laughs).

Tom: Oh, no!

Mr. Tuttle: I don’t know whether he seen me or not, but anyway, I’m pretty sure he probably said, ‘We found one of your boys throwing rocks at the Japanese boys.’ (Laughter).

Lulu: So what was it like coming back to town after World War II?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, it was great to get back to the United States; we had good food.

Lulu: Finally.

Mr. Tuttle: Our company of the––I don’t think I told you, but I stayed right in the same place that we landed and they kept me there and some of the other fellas to make a company that received the troops going over, the replacements, and then the boys that had enough points to come home, come into the main depot there that was on an academy, a lot like our West Point, but it’s not––it doesn’t look like––too much like West Point looks like. But––I lost my train of thought––

Lulu: So what was it like coming back to town after the War?

Mr. Tuttle: Oh, I was talkin’ about the food! I didn’t miss milk, you know. But the boys who come home with me, I’m telling you, when they got to where they could get a bottle of milk, you would’ve thought it was sent from heaven. (Everyone giggles). I was not a milk drinker. And as I say, we didn’t have to worry about the food because we had a French chef from Louisiana (Lulu and Maria laugh).
We just had this small company. There was just four companies in the battalion or in the––yeah, four battalions and there were four in each company. So we had our own mess hall. And we had this fabulous cook and he just cooked for us, you know. He’d let the other cooks cook for the other casuals and they had to eat regular army chow! But we had French-fried steaks everyday. Oh, man, and we had good meat because it come up from Australia. That was one way they were paying the United States back was to furnish food from Australia. My brother-in-law come through there and come to see me and, of course, he ate chow with us. And then Bob Rawles––anyone here know Bob Rawles?––he’s dead now; his wife just died about––about a month ago. But anyway Bob was over at the depot and he come over to the annex to see me. And I think he was––I think he was a major then. And he had an officer friend with him, so I invited them to go to lunch with us and they really appreciated it because they had been on regular army chow for a long time.

Mike: Could you compare the feeling of patriotism after World War II, back then, and to the attacks now?

Mr. Tuttle: I would say it’s a good deal similar. Because of the other war––two wars we’ve had since World War II. I think there was a lot of feeling against that. The people weren’t––didn’t think that we should have been there. But this same––September the 11th––seemed to hit everybody. They could see that it could happen to them, that they could be the ones. I think the government saw that. And everybody showed patriotism that they hadn’t for a long time. You go up and down California and you see flags that you haven’t seen for years. I think it woke people up. And World War II, there’s some difference in the amount of people helping because we had nothing when World War II started, to fight a war. And the build-up that we did in those few years––you can’t imagine the stuff that was produced and put in the fields by United States. And everybody was involved. The women––I give a lot of––I’ve asked the question several times, ‘Who won the war, the G.I.’s or Rosie the Riveter?’ I think Rosie had a lot to do with it. And those women didn’t have it easy. A lot of those women––most of ‘em didn’t have anybody at home to help ‘em out because their husbands was in the service and some of ‘em had children. And they worked ten and twelve hours a day and they produced a lot of stuff, done a good job.

Tom: So, your photo’s on the cover of the book. Could you tell us about that?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, this photo was taken in––it had to be ’50. I was the commander in ’50 and ’51. We had the department convention here the same time as we had the Fair. And this is the Legion leading the parade, in 1950. The department commander’s on the back seat, there, with me. And Fred Rawles is in the front seat, there in the right-hand side. And I think that’s one of the supervisors, and I’m sorry I can’t remember his name, in the center. And then there’s a lady setting in the back seat, I think she must be the president of the Legion auxiliary, from the department. So you could say it was the Legion.

Mr. Mendosa: Who’s driving?

Mr. Tuttle: I don’t know who the driver is. I imagine he’s probably a salesman from that automobile. You boys or maybe the girls too, could tell what kind of a car that is. I’m guessing it’s a Chrysler.

Lulu: I have no idea.

Tom: Woody.

Mr. Mendosa: We could zoom in on it later to find out what that says right there. No pavement in town then, looks like gravel road.

Mr. Tuttle: I don’t remember.

Mr. Mendosa: Maybe that’s paved.

Maria: How have things changed in Anderson Valley?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, since I’ve been here the biggest changes I could tell you about is in the agriculture. When I first came here the biggest crop they had was sheep and apples and prunes. They raised a lot of prunes. I think prunes were the first to go because they lost their export. Then apples––at that time they dried them––all the apples. They didn’t have the green fruit like they ship now; they dried the apples. There’s still a few of the old dryers around. Then that kind of lost out on account of the market. I think a lot of the dried fruit went to Japan and maybe China and maybe the Near East. So then they had to change over and they went into the green fruit that they could sell. And that’s the way it was for quite awhile. And then, of course, you all know the sheep men had to go out of business on account of coyotes. And then a lot of the apple business went out because the grape business come in. And it pays better evidently, so the agriculture has almost completely turned around. Now they raise some cattle where they had the sheep.

Mike: Do you think grapes would go out of style? (Everyone laughs).

Mr. Tuttle: I can make lots of money if I could answer that. (Laughs). I don’t know. My son-in-law was just telling me yesterday; he works for a big wine company, and he said they’re holding back on bottling. They don’t––they have everything sold that they can bottle. But they’re holding back and not bottling, getting a big bunch ahead in the warehouses and things which is smart, and they have not lowered their prices yet, they probably, maybe won’t, I think maybe it’ll stabilize, but if you don’t have a job, you don’t drink much wine. (Laughs). The economy of the country is reflecting back on that industry; so when it straightens out, why, so will the industry.

Tom: Can you tell us what it was like having gambling across the street from the Fair?

Mr. Tuttle: Say what?

Tom: Can you tell us what it was like having gambling across the street from the Fair?

Mr. Mendosa: Gambling during Fair time.

Mr. Tuttle: That’s kind of a bad story, but when we first organized the Legion, boys just home from the war, and we had to raise some money, so we had gambling during the Fair. We didn’t have it on the Fair property, we met in the Odd Fellows Hall across the street in the old church building, and we had full-fledged gambling going (laughs). We made some money, but we could’ve lost lots of money, too. ‘Course we didn’t have much to lose, but––(laughs)––but we did get our treasury––(laughs)––pretty well built up that time. And, of course, you couldn’t do that now, I mean, they look on things a little bit different.

Maria: Mm, hm.

Mr. Tuttle: And the GI’s couldn’t do much wrong then.

Derek: Could you tell us about your family?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, Beth and I had two daughters born to us and then we adopted another little girl when she was nine years old. Well, that makes three daughters and they’re married and they blessed us with seven grandchildren, and now we are working on great-grandchildren, (laughs). We have ten of those.

Mike: Ten great-grandchildren?

Mr. Tuttle: Yes, so, we have been lucky, and lucky in every respect that they all love us, and we love them. And they live close enough so we can see them. The furthest one that lives away in Santa Rosa, some live in Cloverdale, some live in Ukiah. One of the daughters lives here and––really close family, real luck. And those great-grand kids are the smartest kids ever born (laughter). I have a family picture reunion here that was taken back in Wyoming.

Mr. Mendosa: Oh, good, let’s see it.

Lulu: Oh, my God.

Maria: Is that the whole family?

Lulu: A lot of people.

Mr. Tuttle: Pardon me?

Maria: Is that the whole family?

Mr. Tuttle: Well, that’s all the family on my side.

Maria: Oh, your side.

Mr. Tuttle: On my side, I see one of my sisters who’s still living is not there, I guess––that was a dinner we were going to, and I don’t know, she was funny; she didn’t like to dine out or something. She didn’t go to that dinner that night, but her picture is not there. And we just buried her this spring. She was a hundred––she was ninety-nine.

Maria: Wow!

Mr. Tuttle: She didn’t quite make it to a hundred. There is only I and my brother left, but there was eight children in my dad––in my mother’s family, and they raised six of us into adulthood. And there’s two of us left. My brother’s, let’s see, he’s eighty.

Mr. Mendosa: Just a kid. (Laughter).

Mr. Tuttle: Just a kid.

Lulu: Well, thank you very much, Mr. Tuttle. It was really nice talking to you.

Mr. Tuttle: I want to thank you for having me. One disease that you have when you get older is talkin’ too much. (Laughter). I hope I haven’t bored you.

Everyone: No!

Mr. Tuttle: I appreciate you letting me talk to you.

Everyone: Thank you!