Santiam Summer Time

I remember the time, about  19 and '49 as I recall, Billy Boy was fire boss up in the Santiam Pass. There where the massive Detroit Dam now closes off the once graceful running Santiam river water, storing and slowing its free flow along the then remote forest settlements of Idanha, Mill City and on down the slope to Falls City and on passed bigger Salem town.

This was Billy Boy's first return to logging days after the war had ended. He had left the woods and First Love her waitress jobs just as the Big One began, both joining the growing throngs in the busy, bustling boat building Victory Ship Yards of Portland place, they and other hard laboring folk did bit by bolt and nut, build those sailing vessels helping bring peace to far away shores.

I remember those days quite well! Yup, old Billy Boy and First Love sure had some wild celebrations in them days... why I recall the time Pete "The Squeeze" came to play his accordion in the corner of the living room, the red rug rolled up and placed out of way on the big covered back porch, Billy Boy, First Love and others dancing the polka or jitter bugging down the halls and through the house! Someone though got irked that night, yoowie! A fracas short lived did occur, but Billy Boy insured none got hurt, its a bet those starting it never got invited back to our house again! Nope, Billy Boy did not take kindly to that sort of goings on, he expected folks to behave like gentlemen and ladies... "he, he, he", I remember I think a time he wore the floor lamp's shade like a hat on his head, now that was funny, really it was!!

Now as I am recalling, this was after the big war, Roosevelt had died, Truman was there, price controls were in place, the Yards shut down, so Billy Boy he returned to the wilderness space, those places he knew so well. He had grown up and lost his childhood at an early age on the timbered southern slopes of Mt. St. Helens and Adams. Along the banks of the Lewis, Salmon and Cowlitz, Billy Boy fished, hunted and survived, logged and became quite a man.

Billy Boy's fire boss job task took him, First Love, brother and me for a summer's stay to one of the last remaining company logging camps. The rustic, remote and picture perfect little camp was on the western side high Cascade mountain range where Hood, Jefferson, Three Sisters and One Finger Jack stand in majestic majesty, thick and heavy Doug, White and Noble fir crowding their downward slopes, here too where the Willamette, Santiam and McKenzie all begin their rushing runs to the lush emerald greens of the valleys below. To get where this remote logging camp lay nestled along the steep banks of the Santiam river, Billy Boy drove us up a narrow graveled one-way twisting and turning roadway, buses, trucks and cars would blow their horns to warn of approach on a blind side curve. It was a harrowing ride hugging those tight steep cliff bank sides. I held my eyes closed most all times!

Well this was a place to live even if just for the summer, here in this wilderness place...blue clear skies, sparkling bright nights, dewy fresh mornings mysterious and adventurous places for us young'ns to explore! But I'll tell you of some of those another day. Right now one of Billy Boy's most serious times was ready to unfold.

In the summer of this Santiam year the streams were bank filled with the fresh and fast cold waters melting from the unusually hot blazing mid-summers sun, the western Cascade mountain sides tinder box dry. Because of the heat, a suffocating dryness in the air, hoot owling was in effect. No saws which sparked, no rigging to snag a line allowed to operate protecting the massive forest trees from destructive fire, no woods work from early mid-day to evenings fall. But what man deems, nature can, and will, turn! This was sure a time.

Billy Boy and other timber men were relaxing and resting, all quite and peaceful, the logging tasks over for the day. Suddenly the sky darkened, ugly huge grey clouds blowing eastward from the Pacific to the craggy Cascade mountain range, forest animals of the ground ducked in burrows, caves and other secret places to guard against the coming gloom, flying creatures fled to nests or places safer to be found.

The first roaring crack of thunder was seen before heard, it struck the ground with flashing light, blues and yellows streaking from sky...Boom! Boom! Boom!, the loggers dreaded sound, drowning out the sirens wailing cry!

Billy Boy ordered his "hot shot" fire fighting crew to the ready waiting trucks, cabs laden with fire cache to battle fiery blaze. They ran, racing, raising the awful call, "fire" Fire now threatening all! With team of fifteen fighting men, Billy Boy sped to command post, alarm now spreading cross mountain side.

With ax and saw, hoe and grub they made their line out on road number seven-ninety-nine. Through the night sirens sounded their claxon call, big bold diesel cats heard pushing earth building a strong stopping fire wall. But nothing could halt the roaring, raging wild running ball of fire! Down the canyon walls it sped, cross the ravines large and small its course unchecked by neither man nor natures hand!

By 1:21 am the sky shooting flames of orange and brilliant red glows blew the highest ridge, with fire born wind at eighty miles per hour or more the forest exploded in, "Crowning Fire"! "Run, run for your lives!", became the scary and worried cry.

Billy Boy, his crew now dwindled to five, others dispersed to places some distance far away, shouted for all to follow him out of this now awful speeding spreading fire. "We're surrounded and trapped, no place to flee", came back the panicky reply, "we're going to burn and die!"

But Billy Boy ever alert to forest way, knew none should perish this smoky fire night. The five only need to follow his heed, and they would live through the fearful coming night time flames. Summoning his frightened crew, the burning timber casting an eerie glow, heat now felt with burning sear, Billy Boy with powerful command told his men, "fall back to the rear, a stream lies not seventy-five yards from here!" All turned, placing hand on forward shoulder following the lead to safe shelter, dense, dark smoke shutting sight, choking out breath as they stumbled along to refuge sought. The deafening roar of the close racing fire adding more fear to pounding hearts...not much time before the flames would arrive right there!

All six safely reached the trickling stream, with shouted direction from Billy Boy they pulled broad leaf sword fern to soak and cover their face and head as they struggled to lay in the bed of the protective small creek stream.

The fire storm now yards away, all sides a barrier of soaring, searing flames, Billy Boy covered himself and with determined voice telling all to maintain their place, "the fire will roll over us, stay down and you'll be safe!"

The fiery inferno overtook the six stream bedded men, heat intense, flames dancing overhead, smoke blacking eyes and face, red hot embers like bright fire flies skipping in the sky, tall trees snapping and falling as wind and fire took their toll.

Again, Billy Boy, his chest burden with painful heavy smoke, eyes burning, sweat pouring from every pore, lifted his voice, "stay put, your safe, stay covered and down, dont run!"...three men did, but two did not. They rose, jumped with growing fear, threw off the wetted ferns making a desperate and fleeing running dash straight into the gigantic fire wall! Billy Boy could only hear them go, that was all... his head protected from horrible sight.

The "crowning fire" passed over, leaving smoldering ash, burning embers, and broken majestic timber strewn upon the ground, the three remaining lads and Billy Boy arose from watery places thankful they'd beat that horrible burning death.

Their clothes heavy with smoky smelly water, exposed face and skin black with ash and soot, some had first degree burns as the burning fire touched the ground and ran to stream's edge racing over trembling men, but the wetted ferns and small stream bed had protected them from further harm.

While danger remained around lurking to strike the unsuspecting, Billy Boy led his three stout remaining men down the stream bed and on to safety that day... others expecting them to be found dead, stared in silent disbelief as the four fire weary, water soaked and worn out men were seen emerging ghost-like from the smoldering forest ruins. Doc Dodare on the scene treated minor burns and pronounced all fit, later when the two missing chard bodies were found, old Doc gave out the official death decrees. Doc Dodare, a compassionate mellow fellow, didn't particularly like that part of his log camp job. I wouldn't either.

Well, I remember that time cause I was there. Not at the scene mind you, not where Billy Boy, Joe, Sammy and Jack "Hope" were when the fire crowned that awful night, they made it out...Johnny "G" didn't and neither did old "Stormy", I liked them fellers, they were always nice.

The company camp was spared a burning fate, we stayed till school date called us back to Portland home. We never spent another such summer's time in a mountain logging camp. First Love said it was because dams now flooded where camps once stood. I often wondered about that... I do know she was fearfully frightened during that Santiam summer time. But then... I guess, so was I.

T. Condon, Sept. '98