Life History of Ivan E. Lauper

Chapter 4

To Los Angeles, 1924

We lived at the beginning of the automobile age. There were a few cars in the Delta area ---but not many before Serge and I acquired the first for our family. Learning to drive was an experience. Both Serge and I had learned by borrowing and riding with others while working at the Foley Camp on the drain. Learning to use the foot pedals ---to step on the clutch and the brakes at same time, the clutch throwing the auto out of gear, all of this took some doing. We decided we had to have a car. We had to talk Dad into parting with a cow. Then we went into Delta to the Pace Dealer Garage. The sum of this vehicle was $325.00. The old celluloid windows were what was available those days, with an adjustable windshield, also a roll down top; but the side curtains were also of this celluloid isinglass variety, which was never very durable. This was about a 1923-24 model and we were truly proud of it. It is my recollection that we (Serge and I) left for California the first of 1924.

We were sorely tempted to take this car with us; but finally decided through our discussions that Dad and the family needed it worse than we, realiz­ing what a chore it was to get to town of Delta by team and wagon. Dad was not mechanical but we figured he would learn; and he did after a fashion. Before leaving, during that winter, I had learned how the radiator could freeze up, coming for just two or three miles. If you didn't leave the water petcock open, for that distance, before arriving at your destination, you would have to stand in the freezing cold waiting for the water to drain com­pletely, for it must be completely drained while the motor was yet running. So we learned to time it just right, from the main road to the canal, then back into the farm road. The next morning we usually had to use a bit of a torch made up from newspapers to warm the engine in order to get it going. Another unique subject in this connection was that concerning tires. People today think little of having a tire burst, for they seek service from a mechanic immediately. Forgotten is the art of mending a tire and tube. We used to have kits and knowledge of repair. On one of our trips going to Stake Conference in Delta, we were riding, fully loaded, on little old narrow tires, badly worn. I can still remember, and I don't think I am exaggerating if I state that we had an explosion nine or ten times along the way that day; but we would whip out our kits and repair the tube and then pump up with our hand pump. The dust was about six inches deep in the ruts; and I was sick of it! I thought, "How come we are going; what kind of spirit can we have when we get there?" That was my worst experience on that subject! We did have to purchase a new tire in Delta before return­ing to Sugarville. This problem is forgotten today on the freeways; but then, it was not uncommon for several autos to be stalled along the roadside with tire or other motor problems.

I had some rough experiences with the car before leaving but still felt it was in excellent shape as we left it with Dad. Next year in Los Angeles, Serge and I talked it over and decided one of us should go home to help, and since I had been away three years previously, I felt morally obliged to go, so I did. I will never forget getting off that train in Delta. There the family had come to meet me also a girl friend of mine. By some un­explainable reason, I am not now able to define, I was most embarrassed meeting this girl there that day and I remember her wearing galoshes. I still can't explain why it was so upsetting. But ----the most horrible sight to see was what remained of that Model T Ford, of which we had been so proud. Stuffing was bursting from the two seats, nothing was left of either the top or the side curtains, and the windshield was shattered. I have since thought many times, living with nice highways and in fine climates, (today, a car would take ten years of hard solid driving to look like that), but all of this had occurred in one season in that extreme climate and on difficult roads. It looked fifty years old to me! I was thoroughly disappointed. Everything and everyone aged painfully in that area! I didn't stay at home but a few months and upon my return to Southern California I signed on with a firm, which Serge was now working with ---a road construction company. We were working for very modest wages those years --$25.00 per week or something of that nature, and it was sometime along here that I received that small beet bonus check --a real sur­prise! I worked in various capacities, as warehouseman, and purchasing agent with quite a bit of authority to spend, which was quite an experience for a kid from the farm. Later I became paymaster and carried huge amounts of money and had access to all kinds of check writing. I remember my hard, tough old bass saying, "Old Ivan is the only one who didn't steal from me". I enjoyed my work and wanted to go ahead. The Company was very success­ful, to prove this I'll state that I witnessed two of the men who were apprehended for stealing $100,000.00, being hauled off to account for theft. John M. Nicholson, a favored man, was a debonair accountant/controller for this Oswald Brothers Contracting. He used to talk with me about Clarence M. Darrow. I later learned he was thinking of this famous Dow as an attorney for himself. John engaged in duplication of checks. When he would go to the bank, he would ask others if they wanted him to cash their checks, this becoming a weekly thing to do for five or six years. About four o'clock one evening the sheriff walked in, saying, "John N. Nicholson, we want you." John never picked up his hat that afternoon, he went out so fast.

Those were booming days in Los Angeles in paving roads, our Company doing a major amount of the work.

It should have been mentioned that shortly after I got on steady at Oswalds, Serge left for his mission, and I, having steady work, was able to contribute toward his stay. Although Serge had received his call from our old Sugarville Ward, we had become quite active and well accepted in the Matthews Ward, Los Angeles Stake; and I continued more so after his leaving. One of the main social activities included the Men's Chorus in which I participated, both singing and as an officer. This was a large group with an ambitious program. Edwin N. LeBaron was in charge, and a Brother Salt was the chorus director with Hortense Steed (Jean Lauper 's sister), as organist. We had a wonderful sophisticated chorus there. In performing, the men wore tuxedos and the women wore white formals. We had plans of singing a schedule that would even include Honolulu (which was then a world away from each of us). We had weekly rehearsals and my task of gathering and caring for the dues money was quite a job. I had accumulated about six thousand dollars in our Hawaiian Fund before we ran into difficulties, making it necessary to cancel and return the money to the various contributors.

In connection with this job I became well acquainted with Stake Pres. Leo J. Muir and others. Following Serge's return from his mission, and after several months had passed, I was asked to fill a mission. I had for a long time felt we should concentrate on helping Dad and the family be-come a little secure; but upon Serge's return, it took a while for him to find work. I was helping him a little; but by this time Alice was estab­lished with me and was working and paying her way. Early in year 1929, Dad made a trip to California and fell in love with the growing areas. We couldn't talk him out of buying into some acreage out in Camarillo. Well, I definitely wanted the family down before leaving Los Angeles, so I went home to help sell the farm equipment and anything of value. Dad didn't go back ---it would have been truly hard for him to liquidate his possessions back on the Sugarville farm. He loved it here and said of California, this is the land where I want to die".

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