Vignettes - Life's Tales Book Two. William M.D. Baker

      Bill Baker

      A Thadeus T. Throckmorton III Production

      VIGNETTE NO. I

      Fishing the Head Waters of the Colorado

      Lowry AFB, Aurora, Colorado

      The year is 1950. I am a First Lieutenant in the Air Force living with my wife and our first two children, Billy, age 2 and Peggy, three months in Aurora just outside of Lowry Air Force Base where I am in charge of the Machine Accounting School (IBM punched card equipment). Two years earlier before going to Officer’s Candidate School (OCS) I had been an enlisted instructor in the Officer’s course . Now, I am back as the Officer-in-Charge (OIC) of the school.

      Master Sergeant “Pinky” Cochran had been and still was the Non-Commissioned Officer In-Charge (NCOIC) of

      Prior to my attending OCS Pinky and I made many after work and weekend fishing trips to the rivers and streams of the Rocky Mountains. One of our favorite “holes” was on the Elk River a few miles North out of Steamboat Springs, about 170 miles or a four hour drive from Aurora. Our series of holes were located in a carved out channel of slow moving deep water moving through high walled box canyons. These holes were particularly hard to fish because of the sheer walls and the distance of thirty or more feet to the water. But, the rewards were worth the dangers and the loss of many fish in the long haul up from the water.

      On this particular trip, Pinky, myself and two instructors from the school were going for the weekend. Everyone had something to bring in the way of food and drink. I made arrangements for picking everyone up, readied my 1946 Chevrolet sedan and started off. The last pick-up was Pinky. Up to this point, everything had just been piled in the car since we would pack it for the trip at Pinky’s house.

      Another thing to be done at Pinky’s was to dig worms. Pinky prided himself in growing the best fishing worms West of Louisiana, his birth state. I joined Pinky while the others packed the car. We hurriedly dug the worms, returned to the car and headed for the Elk River.

      It was twilight when we arrived and dark by the time we had the tents set up, a fire going, had a few beers and had something to eat.

      It was not quite day-break when I crawled out of my sleeping bag, kicked up the fire and started the coffee. Pinky was right behind me and the other two were grumbling and saying things like, “Hell, the fish aren’t up yet!” All of a sudden Pinky whirled on his heel and came full into my face. “Where’s the poles?” He was furious. I stammered, “In the trunk, where I put them!” We took a few strides to the car. The trunk lid was up and there were no fishing poles in the trunk. I looked in the back seat. No poles there. “What the hell!”

      I turned to the other two who had packed the car, “Where are the fishing poles?” Both, humped their shoulders and rolled up empty palms.

      This brought on a string of vulgarity and promises never to be kept. What to do? At the time, Steamboat Springs was nothing more than a wide spot in the road and buying rods and reels was out of the question.

      Even if the town did have some we couldn’t afford them. I suggested we try making some “Tom Sawyer” rigs. Then, after picturing how I would hang thirty or more feet of line from a dead branch, catch a fish and then try to haul it up without loosing it, I concluded the fishing trip to be over. The others agreed. We packed up and headed home.

      As we rounded the corner and Pinky’s house came into view we could see the fishing poles all leaning against the wire fence. The mood was quiet and explosive. I pulled to the curb as Pinky’s wife came from the house and jokingly called, “Forget something?”

      I dropped everyone off at their houses, went by Pat’s mother’s home, picked up my family and returned home. It was my last trip to the Eel River.

      END

      VIGNETTE NO, II

      Making a Movie: Romance of Rosy Ridge

      Sonora, California

      After my discharge from the Navy in June, 1946, I spent some time in and around Sonora visiting my dad and doing one thing or another. One of those things was working on a movie crew making a movie starring Van Johnson and Janet Leigh. The movie takes place in the days following the Civil War when a Missouri farming community lives in a state of constant tension due to conflicting pro-North and pro-South sentiments. Into this situation ambles ex-Union soldier Henry Carson (Van Johnson), who briefly camps out at the farm of unforgiving Confederate sympathizer Gill MacBean (Thom

      The setting for this movie was in the foothills outside of Sonora where we built the shell of an Ozark house with a walk-around porch and three sides of a barn. A few hundred yards from the house the ground was scraped to a depth of about a foot to form a pond. A walkway was built across the pond for Johnson and Leigh to walk on in the scene where they wade across the pond in a moonlight night. Then, a nearby stream was diverted to fill the pond. The house and the three–sided barn were set afire, filmed, put out and charred remains filmed in follow on shots.

      This was a fun job. At one point, one of the big-shots gave me a “screen test “ of sorts, including singing a line or two. I wasn’t discovered, but Van Johnson knew I was there, he said, “Hi”.

      END