The Echoing Green by William Blake
The sun does arise, Old John with white hair, Till the little ones, weary,
And makes happy the skies, Does laugh away care, No more can be merry;
The merry bells ring, Sitting under the oak, The sun does descend,
To welcome the spring; Among the old folk. And our sports have on end.
The skylark and thrush, They laugh at our play, Round the laps of their mothers
The birds of the bush, And soon they all say: Many sisters and brother,
Sing louder around "Such, such were the joys Like birds in their nest,
To the bell's cheerful sound, When we all, girls and boys, Are ready for rest,
While our sports shall be seen In our youth time were seen And sport no more seen,
On the Echoing Green. On the Echoing Green. On the darkening Green
The “echoing green” to many of us is fondly remembered as Dragerton, Utah. Stories of this once teaming coal mining town — once the home to thousands of hardworking miners, businessmen and their families — are now being passed down to our posterity. Stories of those magical moments of time in our lives spent in Dragerton continue to intrigue our posterity—stories of our youthful exuberance, mischievous adventures and carefree times.
Dragerton was a coal mining town but not a typical coal mining town. It was built in 1943, for the coal miners that worked at Horse Canyon. The coal provided coal needed at Geneva Steel Plant in Orem which made steel to make ships and other equipment for our soldiers. It was to resemble a modern urban community, estranged from any canyon where most early turn of the century coal mining town could be found. Dragerton was situated on a beach, with a back drop of the rugged and colorful Book Cliff Mountains. It was starkly different from Sunnyside, our neighbor to the east, which was built within the confines of the rugged Whitmore Canyon, surrounded by mining equipment, railroad tracks, and coal tipples, that filled its narrow canyon and valley floor.
Because of its distance from Horse Canyon Mine, Dragerton was far removed from the pounding, thunderous noise produced at the mine by the large mining equipment and locomotives moving and switching coal cars. One of the benefits of this distant location was that the residents of Dragerton were not pestered by the thick, heavy, oily sulfurous smoke produced by the hundreds of coke ovens and foundries’ smokestacks located in Sunnyside. Nor was it affected by the ever-present coal dust that inevitably found its way onto everything.
Having now settled into my “Golden Years” of life, with graying hair and a weathered face, I can confidently attest to Dragerton’s uniqueness, and of that magical moment in time that has come to mean so much to so many of its former residents. I fondly recollect several prominent landmarks and individuals that contributed in making Dragerton such a magical place to live. The first of the prominent landmark that comes to mind is the mercantile center. It stretched one hundred and fifty feet in length and fifty feet wide. During its hay day— from 1943 to 1967— it served as the community center, where as a young boy I would jet past the Dragerton Department store on my bike or homemade scooter — made out of two-by-fours, a wooden fruit crate and a metal roller skate — as the “old people” stood around recollecting “harder times” and telling stories from the past. I would then pass the wonderful shops and businesses with their glass windowed store front, and their interesting displays that allowed the residents of Dragerton to peer into them. Among the businesses were the barbershop and salon owned and operated by Leslie Peterson; the drug store was next door to the barbershop and as a young junior high student I often went there for lunch to enjoy my favorite lunch, a tuna fish sandwich with a pickle and potato chips. I still vividly recall the smell of leather and shoe polish whenever I entered J. M. Jones’ shoe shop. At the east end of the mercantile center was the post office. I remember going there as a young boy with my piggy bank to purchase my ten-cent defense stamp from Postmistress Agnes Scow or Marjorie Predovich who also worked there.
The Dragerton Department Store was my favorite place to hang out during the Christmas season. Just inside the store to the left was the toy department where during my spare time I could be found admiring all of the new gadgets and toys. At the age of seven, I became fascinated with the original Red Ryder BB Gun. It was a lever-action, spring-piston air rifle with a smoothbore barrel, adjustable iron sights, and a gravity feed magazine with a 650-BB capacity. It was displayed just behind the counter and out of my reach. Every day after school I would run over to the store and spend several minutes looking at the gun. My fascination with the gun was brought about by my encounter with the original Red Rider and his side kick Little Beaver at a rodeo in Pagosa Springs, Colorado. Every year during the summer my parents would visit relatives in northern New Mexico and while there we would go to the rodeo that was held annually on the fourth of July. After my personal encounter with him, the Red Rider BB gun became the object of my obsession and the only thing I wanted for Christmas. I was in my eleventh year of life when Santa finally brought it to me for Christmas.
As Dragerton’s population began to swell the mercantile center soon became a community center for all the town’s people. High school students would gather there each morning to await the school bus that would take them to school in Price. The Esquire movie theater was located there and kids would gather there to watch the older boys with fixed up cars drive by. It was also the site for the annual kick off of the Christmas holiday season, with a tree lighting ceremony held in the parking lot. Beginning in 1944 it became an annual tradition for the Dragerton Volunteer Fire Department to place a twenty-five-foot tall Christmas tree on the south side of the parking lot from the community center. After the tree was put in place, the community leaders held a celebration with the elementary and junior high school students participating in a special Christmas program. In 1958 as a fourth grader my class was selected to sing several Christmas song as part of the program. Every day for several weeks my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Hartley had us practice Christmas songs in preparation for our part in the program. When the day arrived my parents took me to the community center where we all gathered around the large Christmas tree. After all the singing was done and the junior high band led by Mr. Salazar had finished their part in the program we watch as members of the volunteer fire department placed the star on the top of the tree. The calumniation of the program was when fire chief Mr. Fred Johnson flip the switch that turned on the Christmas Tree light.
When I was in the sixth grade, Mrs. Ruth Hersh selected me to play the part of “Comet” one of the twelve reindeer in our annual school Christmas program. I didn’t want to because I was required to run around wearing a stupid set of horns on my head. I felt sorry for my friend Ronnie Quintana, because he was selected to play Rudolph and he had to ware a big red ball on his nose. The play was held in the lunch room and we had to perform in front of the whole student body and our parents.
One of the best memories of the Christmas season was our family trip up Sunnyside Canyon to cut down a fresh Christmas tree. My dad always waited until two weeks before Christmas to get the tree. He gathered his boys in his 1946 Ford pick-up and headed up Sunnyside Canyon to a certain spot he knew where he could find a nice Christmas tree. Occasionally there would be snow on the ground and we would have to trudge through the deep snow to get our tree, but despite the temporary discomfort it was well worth the effort. During our absence my mom and sisters were at home baking biscochetos (a traditional Mexican cookie) and made hot coco for us when we returned with the tree, it was a family tradition. The girls would also have the Christmas decoration out and ready to be placed on the tree after dad got it ready to be put up.
My favorite recollection of Christmas in Dragerton was Christmas Eve, not so much because it was the culmination of the Christmas season when our excitement and anticipation for the next morning were at its apex. No, it was because I looked forward to seeing Santa arrive on my street riding on the back of the fire engine. It was a feeling of excitement and anticipating that existed while waiting for his arrival. I fondly recall staring out my front window along with my siblings with bated breath—— anxiously awaiting that first glimpse of the fire truck as it turning the corner from Denver Street down eighth west. We watched and waited patiently as the volunteer fire man like Fred Johnson, Julius Rossman, Al Rowley, George Trujillo and too many other to recall all their names ran ahead of the fire engine, knocking on the door of every house as they moved closer to ours. It seemed like it took an eternity for the fire engine to arrive at our driveway. Our parents would constantly have to restrain us from running out the door before they arrived, we had to be warned several time to behave or else we would have to go to our bedroom and miss out on seeing Santa and receiving that treasure that we so longingly waited for, a paper bag filled with candy and nuts. After his arrival my parent would load all of us kids in the car and drive to the Good Shepard Church for Christmas Mass with father Sanders. It seemed like the whole town would gather there for this special occasion.
Other notable landmarks that gave Dragerton its great character were the Community and Catholic churches (both still standing), Menotti’s grocery, Nick’s Café and Tavern, and the old wooden boarding house. The most prominent landmark in Dragerton was the old wooden school that stood majestically in the center of town representing our youthful years. It represented the years we felt so cared for, so vulnerable, but yet so blessed beyond description. It was a time in our lives when all the iniquities in the world were shrouded by the love of the wonderful people that contributed to our lives during our formative years. The moments when we felt that the world was a better place to live in especially in our little town, which I will always be eternally grateful for.
As a young school boy, I looked forward to the start of a new school year that always brought renewed enthusiasm—I can still remember all of the names of my elementary school teachers, Mrs. Janie Henderson, Mrs. Alice Stephens, Mrs. Francis Blankenship, Mrs. Gwen Hartley, Mr. Harry Balle and Mr. Kenneth Bearden. It was also a time that many of us came to realize that we would be building new friendships due the absence of some of our former classmates. It was a common occurrence that many of them would abruptly depart Dragerton during the summer. We were acutely aware that since its inception as a war time project Dragerton had a whirlwind of movement, as families constantly came and went — including us. It was a reality of life in Dragerton, which we all had to accept due to the volatility of the coal mining activities at Horse Canyon, Geneva and Kaiser Steel’s mines.
My aging mind still longs for those carefree days as young elementary school students when I played on the teeter-totter, monkey bars and metal slide. My mouth’s still waters as I imagine the wonderful smells that radiated from the lunchroom down the halls into my classroom. One of those familiar smells came from the “pig in a blanket” and home made rolls. I also remember my least favorite food they served, lima beans. I recall lining up in class and being march down to the lunch room while holding on tight to the two pennies my parents gave me to purchase an extra carton of milk. I recall the difficult I had as a first grader holding on to the large metal trays that the lunch ladies served the generous portion of food on. Many of us recall as elementary students the excitement we felt as our class marched down the hall to the audio-visual room to watch a movie from the sixteen-millimeter projector. I remember the practice session with Mrs. Koski, in the audio visual room where we went to practice folk songs like “My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean, Get Along Home Cindy, Cindy, Oh Susanna, and There’s A Hole In the Bucket. I recall the smell of the mimeograph machine that sat in the corner of the room. I remember during my first year of school in Mrs. Henderson class practicing the atomic bomb drills—ducking under my desks and covering my eyes. One of my most exciting times in grade school was at Valentines, exchanging valentines with my classmates and going home with a box full of valentines and goodies. Playing marbles and jumping rope outside on the blacktop and playing tetherball in the area between the lunch room and the audio visual room. Sliding down the snow-packed hill located next to the playground equipment. I remember how I looked forward to the start of sixth grade so that I could participate in the school safety program. There was a sense of excitement and a feeling of tremendous responsibility that I experience when my sixth grade teacher Mr. Bearden’s handed me a whistle and a safety-sash. That was the uniform we had when we stood guard at the school crosswalks before and after school and during lunch time.
I marvel at the years I spent as a student at East Carbon Junior High School, my transition from the unfettered abandonment of youth to my most enthusiastic, energetic and memorable time of life. When I walked down the halls of the junior high school for the first time, and attended my first school dance, lyceums and basketball games. It was a time when I made new acquaintances and friends that would last a lifetime. I recall my first encounter with the “Lopez’s boy” Bernie and Frankie and their buddy Michael Deporto from Sunnyside. It was the time that I became acutely aware of Lilla Frazier, Carolyn Ware, Ralphie Aguello, and Kathy Burdick. I loved it when I was able to work with plastic in Mr. William J. Smith wood shop class and using water colors in Mrs. Arvetta Satterfield art class. My favorite class was P.E. taught by Thomas Gabriella and Fred Regis. It was in this class that I was able to shoot a basketball at a real basketball hoop rather then rickety reamed out bike rim hanging from my garage at home.
One of my most memorable activities was staying after school and watching my brother Julian along with Richard Deporto, Bobby Dixon, Lane Cook and other members of the basketball team practice. During my junior high years I along with several junior high school boys would flip for coins (odds/evens) behind Menotti’s during lunch time. Immediately after the bell rang for lunch, I darted out of the school and headed straight to Menotti’s. I purchased a bottle of Pepsi, a bag of peanuts and then went behind the store and there flipped for nickels with my friends. Another wonderful landmark that reminds me of my wonderful experiences living in Dragerton was the boarding house, located just below the old wooden school. It was built in 1943 to accommodate the construction crews that came to build the town of Dragerton. Josephine Tomsick, whom many former residents may remember from her days as a lunch lady at the wooden school ran it until it closed in 1949. The boarding house stood vacant during my youthful years, but it presence still did cast a large shadow over the community because of its integral role in the development of Dragerton. I was somewhat spellbound by its mere presence due to my curiosity of what took place in that large vacant building that I knew very little about.
The Dragerton Hospital when built in 1943 was the center piece of the community, taking care of all of Dragerton’s residents medical needs. Many former residents like myself were born in that hospital. Doctor Columbo a native of Sunnyside ran it along with a staff of competent nurses. In 1960, I had my appendix taken out there and I still recall the apprehension I had whenever I went there to get my shots which I needed to play little league baseball.
As a young boy, I recall the many taverns (The Miners Club, NZ Inn (Nicks on the Hill), and The Elite Club, that dotted the landscape. I especially recall Nicks on the highway, because he was the first businessman to have a television in Dragerton. I would go to his place of business and peer through his window as his customers watched the Friday night fights and major league baseball games. All of those buildings and businesses left an indelible mark on my life as a young child growing up in Dragerton. I am overwhelmed and also somewhat dismayed at the reality that they are no longer a part of this town. I wonder why other businesses have not been established there to replace them. The changing of the name of Dragerton to East Carbon City removed the last vestige of my youthful days in that wonderful town. What now remains of my beloved town are empty lots, and exposed foundations of ruined buildings. Abandoned and dilapidated buildings that once provided vital service to the residents dot the landscape of Dragerton.
Giving rise to hope is that within the town of East Carbon City reside many long time residents that have their roots firmly buried in our little town among that group is Earl Gunderson, Benny and Julia Cisneros, and Mrs. Guadalupe Valdez. They have established some measure of relief to the wayward residents that have long since moved away. These staunch residents bring some measure of hope for maintaining a lasting legacy for our town of Dragerton. They have enriched the legacy of our little town by establishing “Community Daze” which is held annually on the second Saturday of July. These reunions have evolved to include class reunions for graduates from East Carbon High School. Individual have been placed in-charge of the establishing class reunions and setting up a program for the returning graduates and former residents. There are events like dinner party and various types of entertainment. Bo Huff a long time resident of Dragerton oversees a car show that features restored cars from the 40s, 50s and 60s era, with prizes given in several categories. This car show stirs within each of us the fond memories of our glory days when we owned a similar car. It also stirs within us a feeling of regret or remorse for getting rid of it. Scattered throughout the park are some former residents, old and young, waiting for an opportunity to visit and reminisce with former friends and acquaintances, and reconnecting with old acquaintances.
One of Dragerton’s favorite hangouts was the Star Lite Drive Inn. During the summer months residents of Dragerton would flock there to watch a movie on the out door movie screen. Car loads of kids and families would be stretch from the front gate of the Drive Inn down past Nick’s on the highway which was almost a quarter mile. During the intermission the kids would get out of their cars and stir about visiting with one another. Some of the younger kids from as far away as C section did during the summer months and, often well into the fall, walk from their home through the cedars to the Drive-Inn. They would sit in the boulders located just outside the fence with their blankets, and a few goodies to watch a movie. The large outdoor screen— that stood like a light house standing on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, a beacon to the sea faring man— was the last of the prominent landmark to be removed from Dragerton’s legacy. This large outdoor movie screen could be seen for miles away along highway six. Former mayor Paul Clarke bought the property and was later forced to tear it down and later built storage sheds where the Drive Inn once stood.
Winter time was an especially exciting time for the youth of Dragerton. It seemed that there was always lots of snow on the ground in Dragerton. In early January 1949, a vicious three-day blizzard hit Dragerton that broke windows, damaged roofs, and blew snowdrifts that reached to the bottom of the outside on the window sills of our house. The temperature fell to below zero. On January 15, another blizzard struck, bringing more minus temperatures. Then on January 22 the mother of all blizzards roared in. Wind-whipped snow and slides closed roads all over the state. After the storm quit, the cold air hit: -25 degrees. School was closed because of the freezing temperatures and the deep snow made travel impossible. The big freeze continued for several days, and then again on February 5, headlines read: “New Blizzard Throttles Utah.” And so it went, snowing all the way into April. The one thaw came in late February. Yep, it was a hard winter, but the residents of Dragerton rose to the occasion. They did what needed to be done. The residents of Dragerton helped each other get through a bitter cold time. It was during this cold miserable winter that mom was expecting her fifth child, me. Many of us recall going down to the Big Spring Ranch and ice skating on the large pound found on its property.
Perhaps the most dangerous thing we did as kids occurred when the roads were snow packed. We would wait on the streets at one of the many speed-bumps that were located in various location around Dragerton and when a car slowed down grabbed onto the bumper and slide along behind the car. Most of time I would I could hold on until I almost got to the community center. Sometimes Jay Fowler would close Grassy Trail Drive between A section and C section so that the kids could slide down the hills on their sleds. The community leaders also contributed to this recreational fun by building a large bonfire near the Elite Club so that the kids could get warm before making another run down the hill. My favorite place to go for winter recreational fun was behind the Saulseto’s place just above the creek. My small gang of friends from A section, which consisted of my brother Julian, Bobby Dixon, Arnold Rowley, Chuck Abeyta, Scotty O’Brien, Roger Trujillo, his nephew Bobby Trujillo, little Jay Fowler, Kenneth Valdez and Louie Starzel would go there to slide down the hill to the creek. It was always a rough and precarious ride because of the many rocks and bushes that protruded from the ground. On a cold and snowy New Years day in 1952, Ronald Dickson and Donald Fourcault found the frozen body of Peter Begay along the banks of the Grassy Trail Creek.
The young boys and girl that grew up in Dragerton had many wonderful and meaningful experience. I think of all the possibilities that existed from the undeveloped land (the cedars) surrounding Dragerton— these young folk were only limited to their own lack of imagination. We can all attest that the residences were without exception understanding and willing to overlook our youthful exuberance. They did not get annoyed with us kids and didn’t hinder us from having a good time. Unless of course we intruded into their lives in some bad way. Our parents were great, because they allowed their children the opportunity to experience life and all that it had to offer. The community leaders were also fantastic, because they sought a way to give the youth of Dragerton the opportunity to have great life experiences. Although there was a creek near by, which was feed by a reservoir located up Whitmore Canyon, there were no fish in it for us catch. However, there were plenty of polliwogs/tadpoles in the creek that entertained the boys of Dragerton for hours trying to catch them.
When I was about six or seven the community leaders sponsored a fishing for the youth of Dragerton. It was a make shift fishing pond, which was dug near the boarding house in B Section. After digging the hole they lined it with a special lining to keep the water from seeping into the ground and then filled it with fish. They even provided fishing poles for the kids. The children were only allowed to catch one fish and take it home. I cannot recall how long the pond was there but I do seem to remember that once all the fish were caught they discontinued doing it. The community also provided busses to take the kids from Dragerton to Price (26 miles away) to go swimming at the Price Swimming Pool. In 1953 when I was only four years old they started Little League Baseball for kids’ ages 10 to 12.
As a kid some of the older boys had dammed up the creek and made a swimming hole which I took advantage of. The water was no doubt not of the best quality and some that we should not have been swimming in. It was full of tadpoles that eventually turned into frogs unless they were caught and put into a quart jar and taken home and forgotten. My mom found the source of the stench that fill our home and she was not very happy with me. Swimming was an activity that I enjoyed as young boy but was limited due to circumstances beyond my control. The most fun I had when swimming was at the Labor Day celebration held at the Price City Park. The mine unions held an annual Labor Day celebration and some of the activities they sponsored for the youth were different types of races, like a 40 and 50-yard dash, and sack races. The winner usually got a half dollar piece while the rest of the participants were given a quarter as a consolation prize. Every year they also sponsored an event for us kids that we looked forward to. They would line all the kids around the pool and throw quarters, dimes, nickels and half dollars into the pool. A horn would sound that signaled everyone to dive into the pool and start gathering as much money as they could. It was chaotic but fun and because I could hold by breath for a long time I was able to collect a lot of those coins. There were always more dimes and nickels then anything else.
There were certain things that impressed me and no doubt impacted me. An example of this was when I was eight years old my brother’s Gilbert and Fermin had joined the local Boy Scout Troop and my parents purchased their boy scouts’ uniforms. I was really impressed when they wore them to go to their meetings. I wanted to be just like them, so when I turned eight-years-old they registered me to be a cub scout. I mentioned Johnny Carrillo earlier, he was my cousin, his grandmother and my grandmother were sisters. Johnny and I were not what I considered close friends and seldom associated with each other, although we were in the same cub pack when we were eight and nine-years-old. His parents were our den leaders and we did lot of neat things in cub scouts. He along with Michael Cisneros, Ronnie Quintana and myself were the only individuals that I remember being in our den pack. Michael lived next door to Bertha and Tito. My parents bought me a cub scout uniform and every week I looked forward to putting it on and attending my meetings. I attended weekly meeting at my cousin’s house and enjoyed the treats that we got at the end of the meeting. I remember three things most about my days in cub scouts. Tito had rubber molds of a bear, lion and wolf heads that we filled with the plaster of Paris. Each head represented a rank in the cub scout program. When the plaster dried, we removed the item from the mold and were allowed to paint them. Tito, was really involved in that sort of thing and his basement was full of molds that he used to make his product. Things like fighting rooster, fish, and all sort of plaques that he sold to the residents of Dragerton. Other memories that I have of my days of a cub scout were my trips without my parents to Price and Camp Maple Dell. The trip to Price was for our Blue and Gold banquet. During this affair the pinewood derby contest was held. I spent countless hours carving my block of wood to make sure it was the best pinewood derby car ever built. When I finished with making my car, I painted it all black and painted the number’s red. Cub scouts from all over Carbon County came to participate. My car was really fast and in my mind was one of the fastest there, but unfortunately it lost all of its races. As I recall, it wasn’t even among the top ten. I will confess that the thing I enjoyed most about this event was all the different type of food there had for us to eat. As a young eight-year-old I was in awe of all the food and availed myself to all that was there. Carbon County was a melting pot and there were people there of every nationality (Greek, Italians, Mexican, Asian and Eastern European) They brought their native foods that I had never before tasted so I had some of everything. I ate until I got sick, but I didn’t care because the food was soooo good. While everyone was eating, a drawing took place and my name was called for a camera, that was the first time in my life that I had won anything. When it was time to go home, I left a happy camper!!!! The last of my favorite experiences as a cub scout was our trip to Camp Maple Dell. It was located in the mouth of Payson Canyon. We rode in a bus and left Dragerton real early in the morning. While at Camp Maple Dell, we were allowed to participate at different workshops. There were lots of different kinds of fun activities as well as learn different scout procedures, like knot tying, and scout safety. It was the first time I had ever been away from my parents alone for the whole day. My favorite workshop was the one where I was allowed to shoot a bow. There was another workshop where we were given a knife to whittle with. I was never so glad to get home as I was that night. The most memorable part of that experience was the home made root beer. I was ten years old and had never had home made root beer. Every opportunity I had, I would fill by canteen with root beer. I drank so much that I made myself sick. I threw up and was nauseated--- after that you would have thought that I had enough but no I filled my canteen just before we left for home. I was drinking it and between it and the motion of the bus I threw up again. I remember when the bus pulled up at our house, it was dark, the porch light was on, and my dad was out spraying off the drive way with water from the hose. I knew then that my mom would make everything all right. I can still to this day visualize my dad standing there.
Having travel through the tempered waters of yesteryear, I joyfully recall the ambience of our little town and its wonderful people. A moment in time that many of us now long for, but have sadly come to realize is long gone. It’s unfortunate that Dragerton like many coal mining camps in Carbon County of that era have faded from the map. The last vestige of Dragerton’s remarkable life came to a halt in 1974 when the residents of Dragerton voted to incorporate and form the town of East Carbon City. Sadly, now through our aging eyes we can hardly look past the economic ruins brought about by the closure of the mines in East Carbon. Despite its demise we still hold fast to those pleasant memories of our youthful years spent there. Now we are left with only an awed admiration of this once vibrant coal town, out little town, Dragerton. And of course the lingering thought of what might have been had the coal mines not shut down.
|
