Jen1180

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Philip Varney is the author of seven ghost town guidebooks, including Ghost Towns of the Pacific Northwest, Ghost Towns of Northern California, Arizona’s Ghost Towns and Mining Camps, and Ghost Towns of Colorado.  Varney visited his first ghost town—Central City, Colorado—at the age of 11 and has been an enthusiast ever since. A former high school English teacher and department chairman, he has toured and photographed more than six hundred ghost towns throughout the American West. In addition to his ghost town books, Varney has authored a book on bicycle tours of southern Arizona, was a contributing writer for Insight Guide’s Wild West, and has been a contributor to Arizona Highways magazine.  Philip Varney lives in Tucson, Arizona.

By Philip Varney

For The Journal

As a writer of nonfiction, I’d like to think most of my observations are objective. In the last thirty years, I’ve written books about ghost towns in all the western states, but I have to admit that my feelings about Idaho defy objectivity because, since the late 1990s, I have been an annual visitor to your state, usually for weeks at a time. How can anyone be objective when gaping at mountains, when they are the Tetons or the Sawtooths? How can anyone be objective when gazing at rivers, when they are the Salmon or the Snake?

It’s difficult to be objective about Idaho’s ghost towns as well, because some of the finest in the West are in your state. The opening entry in the chapter on Idaho in my new book, Ghost Towns of the Mountain West, is also the closest ghost town to Pocatello. If you haven’t been to Chesterfield, you really should plan a visit. It is one of the finest examples of an agrarian ghost town in the West (as you might imagine, the huge majority of ghost towns are mining-related).

CHESTERFIELD

Chesterfield dates from 1879, when Latter-day Saint (Mormon) farmers came to the area because arable land in Utah was becoming scarce. In addition to farming, the community also served as a supply point along the Oregon Trail, which was fading in importance but was still being used. However, the town prospered for only a couple of generations. The site was isolated, with the railroad and major roads bypassing it, making it difficult to get goods to market. The last store in Chesterfield closed in 1956, long after the town’s heyday.

Chesterfield, listed since 1980 on the National Register of Historic Places, contains almost two dozen historic buildings, fifteen of which are being or have been restored. The best buildings are made of local brick, including the Holbrook Mercantile, the Meeting House, the Tolman-Loveland residence, and the Higginson-Holbrook home. Volunteer docents are frequently in the latter two buildings to allow you to explore the interiors of the residences.

A well-tended cemetery containing the graves of many of Chesterfield’s pioneers stands .7 of a mile south of the Meeting House.

THE NICHOLIA CHARCOAL KILNS

Several good ghost town sites are northwest of Pocatello, up near Salmon. On the way from Pocatello to Salmon are the Nicholia Charcoal Kilns, which were erected in 1885 to provide fuel for the smelter at Nicholia, today a site of two log cabins within a private ranch. The smelter reduced the ore from the Viola, a lead and silver mine, which was located in a canyon above Nicholia. Originally sixteen kilns stood at the site, but now only four remain. The “beehive” kilns were used to convert wood to charcoal through a controlled-heat, slow-burning process. The kilns used an astonishing amount of wood, about 75,000 cords per year.

Of those four kilns remaining at the site, two are partial, but two are virtually complete.  Each was originally twenty feet high, plastered almost a foot thick. Be sure to take a walking loop tour at the site, as you will learn a great deal about the kilns and the surrounding area.

GILMORE

Just twelve miles up the highway from the Nicholia kilns is Gilmore. The town features the most significant remnants of a silver and lead mining boom that began in the 1870s and ended in the 1920s in the Birch Creek Valley. A stage line connected the settlement, originally known as Horseshoe Gulch, to the outside world, and in 1902 the town’s citizens elected to change the community’s name to honor Jack T. Gilmer, one of the owners of the stage. The U.S. Postal Service approved the name but mistakenly spelled it “Gilmore.” Townspeople apparently decided to accept the error rather than fight the federal bureaucracy.

More than two dozen buildings, ranging from habitable to tumbledown, remain at the town. The best is the long, one-story, wood-frame general merchandise, which is covered in ornamental tin. The false front has three messages, the top bleeding into the middle, as they were painted in different years. The top reads “U.S. Post Office.” Halfway underneath is “Gilmore Mercantile,” with “general merchandise” below that. Painted in large letters on the north side of the roof is the town’s name, likely so it could be seen by that new-fangled contraption, the airplane. The store was built in 1910 by the Ross brothers, the same year the railroad came to Gilmore. Incidentally, there is hope for the derelict structure: The Lemhi County Historical Society and Museum have purchased it for preservation and restoration.

LEESBURG

Leesburg, northwest of Salmon, is an unoccupied ghost town, which is quite unusual. Most true ghosts have disappeared due to neglect or vandalism. Leesburg is doubly unusual because its fifteen buildings are primarily constructed of logs, indicating that the town never rose to the relative sophistication of milled lumber, a sign of gentility in a community.

Visiting Leesburg is a captivating experience to true ghost-town enthusiasts. A kiosk at a nearby parking area provides a great deal of information about the history of the town, along with a map detailing the buildings that remain. As a result, the visitor knows a great deal about the town before walking in. There are no interpretive signs within the townsite itself, so one has much more of a feeling of intimacy with the place. It takes little imagination to experience what it might have been like to be a resident of this tiny community.

Leesburg came to life in 1866 when placer gold was discovered in nearby creeks. Named by Confederate sympathizers for General Robert E. Lee, the community eventually bloomed into a town of about three thousand citizens. The gold deposits finally gave out after World War II, and the town was abandoned.

Leesburg’s cemetery is .3 of a mile back down the road from the townsite’s parking area. A walkover across a buckrail fence indicates the way in. Five headstones, a metal fence, and a couple of wooden fences make up the graveyard.

BAYHORSE

            The final site on this odyssey out of Pocatello is south of Challis. In about 1864, a prospector with two bay horses began working the creek in the area, but other nearby prospectors didn’t know his name, identifying him only as “the fellow with the bay horses.”

            The creek, and the town that grew along it, both became known as Bayhorse. Several silver mines developed in the canyons above the town, most prominently the Ramshorn. The town of approximately three hundred residents  boomed into the 1880s but faded with the Silver Crash of 1893. The post office managed somehow to hang on until 1927, perhaps out of federal indifference.

For decades, the ghost town of Bayhorse was privately owned and off-limits to visitors. The best one could do is gaze and photograph from across Bayhorse Creek, trying to get a good look through the trees and brush.

            The Idaho Department of Parks and Recreation, however, now owns the site, and, after considerable cleanup and decontamination of the townsite, visitors can walk through a genuine ghost town. The approximately one dozen buildings are being stabilized and at this writing are not open to explore, but you can still get very close to the structures.

Across the creek stand the remnants of six charcoal kilns and, beyond the kilns, the tiny Bayhorse Cemetery. Remnants of mining efforts stand high above and beyond Bayhorse along roads for serious four-wheel-drive vehicles only.

MORE NEARBY GHOST TOWNS

            I have been intentionally vague about directions to these towns, because, naturally, I’d like you to go to your local bookseller and purchase my book. Inside you’ll find more photos of the sites mentioned, informative maps, and detailed directions to each site. You’ll also find that Idaho has many other excellent historic communities and ghost towns, like Custer, Placerville, Idaho City, and the gem of the Gem State, Silver City.

            In addition, your neighbor to the north has some excellent ghost towns, and Montana’s Bannack is not that far across the Idaho-Montana border. To make visiting it even more convenient, it is just off of I-15. If you travel up to see that wonderful town, now a state park, you might as well explore some of the other wonderful sites showcased in the Montana chapter, such as Virginia City and Nevada City, Garnet, Comet, and Elkhorn.

            If you aren’t already one of those who consider ghost-towning a terrific way to see the backroads of the West, I hope Ghost Towns of the Mountain West gets you started.

By Sam Wyrouck

    It was the year 1944 that ten men trained together as a crew on the famous Flying Fortress and on their completion were given a new B-17 four engined bomber to fly to England in order to take part in reducing Hitler’s industry to rubble. After arriving in England, crew No. 5383 was assigned to the 351st Bomb Group. It took us very little time  to realize how combat naive and dumb we were. We were billeted with veterans of many combat missions. After all that stateside training we then learned how to really take on enemy fighters, how to really stay alive at 30,000 feet altitude, how to really find the home base after a mission even at night and how to fly a really tight defensive formation.

    We received training on how to avoid capture if shot down and arrived on the ground safely in Germany or occupied countries. Each flyer had two pairs of G.I. shoes. One pair we kept polished and the other we scuffed up and muddied up because if walking around Germany, highly polished shows were a dead giveaway. The pair of shoes was to be tied together and stowed in a handy place so in case of bail out we could snap the pair onto our parachute harness and would have a good pair of walking shoes. You wouldn’t get far walking in a pair of sheepskin boots.

    We also had German language lessons. On one of those first days we new crew members assembled for an instructional briefing. The instructor opened by saying “You all must have had sermons at your churches on FAITH, but I am going to give you a new perspective on faith that you may remember all your life and that may even save your life.

    When you are flying your missions, there will be a good chance that your plane will be hit and that you will have to bail out at 30,000 or more feet altitude. Do not pull the rip cord, but allow yourself to lapse into unconsciousness. After falling for a considerable distance, you will regain consciousness, and only then will you pull the rip cord. Your natural inclination will be to pull the rip cord as soon as you leave the plane. There are at least three reasons to delay opening your chute. Reason number one is that hanging below temperatures with no oxygen after gloves, boots and helmet are ripped off will surely cause loss of body parts, brain injury or possibly death.

    Reason number two is that both German and American flyers have orders to not let an enemy hanging in a parachute to reach the ground alive. Reason number three is that you want to fall away from the bomber formations as soon as possible to avoid getting you and your chute tangled up with some following bombers.”

    Sam Wyrouck is a Pocatello native who served as a ball turret gunner on an Army Air Corps B-17 bomber during WWII. He now lives in Hurricane, Utah.

    Editor's Note: The following recollections of the Auditorium Theater were written by Robert E. Watson and first printed in the Idaho State Journal on April 29, 1951. The Auditorium was built by a company organized by Col. G.A. Hannaford and opened in January 1901. Over the years it was owned and operated by a number of people including Frank M. Watson, owner of the Hub Store and father of Robert E. Watson. "Bob" Watson was an usher at the Auditorium from 1907 to 1908. He later took over his father's men's clothing store and died in Pocatello in 1964. This article was edited and adapted for use here by retired Idaho State University history professor Jo Ann Ruckman.  

    In the early days of Pocatello it wasn't practical for all devotees of the theater to journey to New York City to view the latest theatrical productions, so arrangements were made to bring the finest shows to Pocatello.

    Rail connections between Salt Lake City and Butte and the east and Portland were ideal to break a jump at Pocatello and the Opera House, also known as the Auditorium, located in the 200 block of East Center, received enthusiastic support, not only from the silk-hatted and black-caped occupants of the loges, but also from the ticket holders on the lower floor and the enthusiastic critics who managed to fight their way to the gallery.

    There was no camouflage or substitution in those early days and when an announcement was made that Maude Adams would appear in person, supported by the original cast, playing "Peter Pan," that's exactly what could be expected. Followers of the theater came from miles to witness these truly great productions.

    The four boxes were frequently occupied in those days by what were known as the "painted ladies." When not in use by the bon ton, one of the boxes was invariably occupied by Lena Cathcart, who had charge of the modern-day version of the "powder room."

    As near as we can learn the theater was built about 1900. We recall a lawn reaching from the structure to the alley, cluttered with lawn chairs, umbrellas and some trees.

    Wagner's "Parsifal" was perhaps the biggest production to be presented. Bug Spillman, stage manager, had to virtually "bend the scenery" to get it on the stage.

    Many Shakespearean plays were presented. We recall "The Merchant of Venice," "Othello," "The Taming of the Shrew," "Much Ado about Nothing," "Anthony and Cleopatra" and "Hamlet."

    There was a lot of melodrama with heroines rescued in the nick of time after being tied to buzz saws and railroad tracks, and suspended from towers or cliffs.

    We must not overlook the minstrel shows. One of these companies brought the first automobile seen in Pocatello and paraded it through the streets.

    In the early days many productions carried their own orchestras, but the theater maintained its own musicians "just in case," with Charlie Fetzer as violinist. Charlie always wore a black bow tie and a straight standing white collar. Between acts Charlie used to make visits to nearby points, and as the plays progressed Charlie would sink deeper and deeper into his collar.

    In later years the theater was taken over largely by stock companies, notable among them being the Taylor Players and Glendora Players.

Dr. Minnie Howard, M.D., was always the authority on the Oregon Trail and Fort Hall. She signed my ‘‘official Fort Hall Centennial book’’ in 1934. As I recall, Dr. Howard lived on South Garfield in Pocatello, next to the public library.

    Her articles in the book were illustrated by Bethel M. Farley and were most helpful in helping a young man appreciate the amazing history of the trail and the pioneers who settled Idaho and the Northwest.

    I am also indebted to my Pocatello High School history teacher Himena Hoffman (signature HH) who reminded me that there was more to the newspaper than comics and sports. The Oregon Trail monument on the high school grounds also aroused my curiosity. After all, these events occurred just a short time prior to my high school days, since Pocatello was still a young city developed by the Oregon Short Line of the Union Pacific.

    Dr. Howard reminded us that Mount Kinport was the highest point on the mountains that surrounded Pocatello. From the top, one could view the Snake River bottoms on the other side. Here Nathaniel Wyeth had located the fort to compete with the British Hudson Bay Co. from Canada.

    Massive numbers of Americans were induced to travel the Oregon Trail's arduous route from Independence, Missouri, over the plains and through the mountains at a snail's pace of 12 miles per day. The publication of the exploration of the Lewis and Clark Expedition in 1804 had an amazing effect on New Englanders who saw opportunity in new land and American expansion.

    England claimed Oregon and the boundary of 49 degrees north was not agreed to until 1846. Old Fort Hall played a significant role in settling the dispute.

    Looking down from Kinport one can see why the Portneuf Valley with its lava beds was not suitable for Conestoga wagons to traverse through the Wasatch Mountains to the bottoms. The route from Soda Springs had to go behind Mount Putnam and come farther north.

    The motivation of Wyeth and the first 200 wagons was partly patriotic, partly religious, and partly economic. The fur trade had brought the Hudson Bay Co. into the region. The Portneuf River was full of beaver. The trade with the Indian tribes looked promising. The area where Fort Hall would later be built allowed for roads in five different directions. The 35-mile stretch of the bottoms was lush with vegetation, animals and fish.

    Wyeth shot a buffalo here on June 15, 1834, and said, ‘‘Here is where I will build my fort.’’ Although never used as a military fort, the location soon proved to be profitable.

    Dr. Howard was able to locate the site of old Fort Hall with the help of a few aging pioneers and Bannock Indians. During my time in Pocatello the site was covered by the waters of the American Falls dam. A replica of the fort has been built at Ross Park.

    Fort Hall's centennial celebration made a vivid impression on Aug. 5-8, 1934. Many Pocatellans grew beards, donned Levis and costumes, and wore holstered pistols. My father, YMCA CEO Ralph R. Wolf, and YMCA Physical Director Austin L. Jones put together costumes and a parade float for the ‘‘Y.’’

I recall the colorful buckskin beaded garb of the Fort Hall Reservation Indians as their horses pranced through the streets behind wagons during the centennial parade in Pocatello.

    The Conestoga wagon, a favorite among pioneers, was not only a mobile home and protection from the prairie sun but also a boat to carry supplies on the Oregon Trail and across numerous rivers.

    Many settlers died on the trail. Crude grave markers of wood and stone stood for many years. Ruts of the steel-rimmed wagon wheels can still be viewed at certain locations today.

    From Fort Hall most wagons continued to Oregon up the Snake River Valley. After gold was discovered at Sutter’s Mill in California a trail heading there branched off near the fort. In all 250,000 migrated on the Oregon Trail. The Hudson Bay Co. tried to deflect traffic to California but most went on to settle Oregon. Eventually Fort Hall helped account for both destinations becoming states. Dr. Howard thought the gold produced in California and Idaho helped the Union finance the Civil War. Fort Hall played an important part in the destiny of the United States.

John Wolf is a Pocatello native, retired Methodist pastor and author who now resides in Valparaiso, Ind. 

This piece was originally published in the Union Pacific Bulletin new letter in July 1946.

Rampton Barlow, Pocatello music instructor, who organized the union Pacific R.R. chorus here in 1940, is preparing his men for a number of Southeast Idaho appearances.

The group has become increasingly popular in the Pocatello area since it went in1941 to the National Federation of Music of Music Club's convention at Los Angeles, Cal. Since then the chorus has sung "several hundred times for public gatherings, I don't know how many," Mr. Barlow said.

He added little solo music is sung in the chorus' appearance, but several first-rate soloists have developed among the men.

Information and photo courtesy Fred Evans.

By Sam Wyrouck

     My crew, number 5383 was part of the 351st Bomb Group. During World War Two the Eighth Air Force was the thrust of the air was against Hitler’s Germany and was made up of forty some groups. Each group consisted of four squadrons each of twelve planes and twelve crews plus spares. These were heavy four engine B-17’s and B-24’s. Except for rare occasions, each group put only three sqaudrons for each mission. This gave the standing down crewman a chance to do personal things.

    When a mission is completed, returning bombers with wounded aboard fire red, red flares and they have priority to land first. After each mission there at the end of the runway are lined up the inevitable “Meat Wagons.” After that, planes with battle damage land next. After that each bomber takes its turn to land. It takes time for each group of 36 bombers to get them all on the ground, especially during the long nights of winter months. They often present English fog and the fact that other nearby groups are in the same landing mode make for a complicated and dangerous undertaking. Once when  my crew was not flying that mission a collision and explosion happened nearly above where I was standing. Not many large pieces of those two B-17s hit the ground, but one engine fell about 50 feet from where I was standing. One evening when we of the 508th squadron stood down for that day’s mission, some of us decided to go to the base movie theater. Half way through the movie, the show was stopped. A Medic Sergeant jumped up on the stage and said the following: “The mission came in and there are eight wounded and we need eight pints of blood. As you know, we get blod plasma from the stats, but not whole blood.”

    He then gave a list of how many of what type he needed. Some from the movie audience stepped up, but he still needed more. He called our “Corporal ------- you haven’t given blood lately, it’s your turn.” He called out a few more and then and then he said that the movie wouldn’t resume until he had enough donors. All service people always know their blood type because that information  is printed on each dig tag.

    He got the rest of the donors and the movie resumed. Combat crewmen were not permitted to give blood because maybe the next day they may be in need.

    The medic knew just about each of the ground pounders and their blood type and their rate of donations.

    When the day’s mission returns, then the ground pounders work begins. They work all through the night to get the planes ready for the next day’s mission, which starts when the start engines flare is sent off at about 6 or 7 a.m. They patch holes, change engines, load gasoline, bombs, ammunition and oxygen. Besides all this, they are also the blood supply.  

     Sam Wyrouck is a Pocatello native who served as a ball turret gunner on an Army Air Corps. B-17 bomber during WWII. He now lives in Hurricane, Utah.

Evenings that we did not fly, often times we Ariel gunners would gather around the lone radio in the barracks and listen to the American Forces Network or to the German Radio Berlin and listen to Lord Haw Haw and other personalities give out the latest news. Oh, I mean propaganda. After the news, we then enjoyed listening to the best popular music of Glen Miller, the Andrew Sisters, Frank Sinatra and others.

    When we were a brand new crew and had not yet flown our first bombing mission, the German announcer said, “We extend a welcome to Robert Parmell’s crew, we anxiously awaiting your first encounter with the Yellow Nosed Squadron of the Luftwaffe and the tens of thousands ground funs of 88 mm and larger. I’m glad I’m not in your shoes.”

    Well, something to think about. After the talk, we then enjoyed the good music. Some time later I was told that a German announcer said, “The American bombers have tried many times but have failed to demolish the world famous and huge Cologne Cathedral. It is still standing.”

    Before our first mission, we received much briefing information, but pounded into our heads was the order, “The one place in all of Germany that you must avoid damaging the ancient Cologne Cathedral.”

    Months later well into our 35 missions on Dec. 18, 1944, we crews in the 351st Bomb Group were briefed to bomb the railroad marshaling yards which were located a short distance from the great cathedral. Of course we were reminded to take care and not harm the great cathedral. The day started off with no flack nor bandits on the way, but there was a solid overcast over the target, and we and the other bomber groups circled in the area for a seemingly endless time. The ground guns were wonderingly silent nor did we see any bandits. As time wore on, we were hoping that at least one ground gunner or one bandit would make just one pass at us. No, we weren’t losing our minds. If we didn’t get shot at we wouldn’t get credit for a mission. Well, not a shot was fired and we landed back at our base with our bombs still aboard. This mission was different from all the rest.

    I have been told that bombers of the 8th Air Force did bomb the cathedral with sacks of flour just to show the Germans that we could if we desired.

    Sam Wyrouck is a Pocatello native who served as a ball turret gunner on an Army Air Corps. B-17 bomber during WWII. He now lives in Hurricane, Utah.

By Sam Wyrouck

    Four 17-year-old boys were pals as only going to school, playing hockey and baseball, hiking and hunting together could be. One winter Sunday morning the four boys together with a larger group of boys and girls riding down steep, snow packed Timber Butte Road located at the south part of Butte, Montana. That bright,  winter sunshine enhanced the natural exuberance of the group. The spent group was on their way to their homes beyond the bottom of the hill.

    The group was very non-silent as they passed the very small neighborhood store owned by Lydia Yarzenbeck’s parents. Seventeen-year-old Lydia ran out to great us with the words, “The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor and we are now at war! Hurry home and turn on your radios!”

    That news changed our mood and lives. We four boys’ first thoughts were, “What could we do to help with our share in this great coming conflict?”

    Mr. Yarzenbeck often told us boys about his experiences in the Great World War. He emigrated to America from Austria after that war. He claimed to be in the same army unit during that war as Adolf Hitler and knew Adolf personally. This was not a good time to claim friendship with Adolf Hitler.

    Don Ireland, Joe Driscoll and Phil Lyons all couldn’t wait ‘til they turned 18, but all three went to the Navy recruiter because the Navy would take 17-year-olds into active duty.  Don and Joe passed the mental and physical tests and were taken right in. Phil also took the tests, but Phil was a few pounds under the lower weight limit. The recruiter told Phil to go home and come back next week. He said, ‘Go buy about six pounds of bananas and eat what you can before you take your next physical again.’ Phil did as he was advised and then passed the test. Phil was shortly also in Navy uniform.

    Phil was just the right size, so he volunteered for submarine service. Phil enlisted in the war so that he completed about six grueling and dangerous patrols. Don was assigned to surface ships and took part in numerous sea battles. Joe was in the naval air arm and experienced his fighting from the air flying off of carriers.

    I waited for two months after Pearl Harbor to enlist in the Army Air Corps. They permitted me to turn 18 and finish high school before calling him to active duty. I  went through extensive training in the states and then was assigned to a heavy bomber crew and flew on 35 bombing missions into Germany.

    All four went into the war as boys, earned numerous medals and battle stars, survived and came home as men. All married, raised families, and led normal, productive lives. Phil still lives in Butte on the same street where he grew up. Sam lives in Hurricane, Utah. I have lost track of Don and Joe.

    Sam Wyrouck is a Pocatello native who served as a ball turret gunner on an Army Air Corps B-17 bomber during WWII. He now lives in Hurricane, Utah.

“Hail to the Chief”

This timeline of the existance of the Chief Theater in Old Town Pocatello was originally published in the Idaho State Journal on March 21, 1993.

Jan. 5, 1938 — A crowd of 2,496 moviegoers from across Southeast Idaho flock to the opening night of the Chief Theater to watch “Bad Men of Brimstone,” starring Wallace Berry and Virginia Bruce.

1945-1960 — The Chief is in its heyday as Southeast Idaho’s premier theater. Usherettes, clad in tight uniforms, escort patrons to thier seats aqs the Golden Age of Holywood shimmers to life on the big screen.

Sept. 1982 — The Chief’s 44 years as a commercial movie house ends, but remains open under a unique private/public partnership involving the non-profit Chief Foundation and the City.

Dec. 9, 1984 — Denver businessman Frank Ricketson donates the Chief to the city. A restoration project, which will eventually involve hundreds of volunteers and thousands of hours of work begins.

July 9, 1989 — A refurbished Chief Theater reopens with country singer Jerry Jeff Walker entertaining a crowd of 600. “Places like this remind you of your roots,” Walker says.

March 20, 1993 — Fire demolishes Southeast Idaho’s oldest theater.

“I was not built merely of marble, mortar and steel

But born with a heart, soul and purpose.

I was the creation of a mentality on fire;

The product of a dreamer.

I was a reality loved into life.”

From the Chief Theater’s opening day program

“And then with mutual embraces and many tears, they took their leaves of one another, which proved to be the last leave to many of them.” –William Bradford, of Plymouth Plantation, ca 1620-

    Each of us has a powerful journey story deep in our personal heritage.  It may be a story of a family uprooting itself in order to story together or of sons and daughters moving to another land or of a distant ancestor coming to America.  Immigration and travel have shaped American society.  

    Journey Stories is a Museum on Main Street project organized by the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service and brought to you by your state humanities council.  Journey Stories examines how transportation and migration helped build our nation, how it has changed us, and how our mobile world looked to travelers along the way.  

    Americans have traveled for many reasons throughout time.  Some journeys took courage.  Coming to America was often a one way trip, leaving friends, extended families and familiar surroundings behind, never to be seen again.  All travelers, whether coming to these shores by choice or by force, showed their courage in withstanding the difficulties of the journey.  

    Mobility offered a fresh start, a chance to find a better job, a new home or riches in a distant land.  An innate hope and desire for freedom and self-determination drove millions to undertake the journey to make America their new home.  

    The need for adventure often motivated Americans to travel.  

“Once I found the use of my feet, they took to wandering.  I always wanted to go!”

-Zora Neale Jurston, Dust Tracks on a Road, 1942-

The freedom to move is the freedom to be curious- to explore new place, try new things, and develop new ways to get there.  The pursuit of adventure is integral to American travel.  As Americans, we are still traveling.  Now we travel for fun.  American mobility means a great demand for new transportation technologies.  With jet airliners, high-speed trains, and interstate highway networks, it is easy for Americans to journey for fun and relaxation.   

    The National Oregon/California Trail Center invites all to attend the Smithsonian Journey Stories exhibit that will open July 16th and run through August 28th.  What is YOUR  Journey Story?