Tribute to Victor Barth

A TRIBUTE TO MY PAL OF SIXTY YEARS

Written in 1966 by Clio Davidson, following Victor’s death on January 9, 1966, in Los Angeles.

Isn't it strange that Princes and Kings,
And clowns that cavort in sawdust rings,
And common folks like you and me,
Are builders of Destiny.
To each is given a shapeless mass,
A bag of tools, and a book of rules,
And must create, ere life has flown,
A stumbling block or a stepping stone.

Truly, the above fits my pal's life perfectly. He never made a stumbling block. All that he made were stepping-stones.

We first met when he came east, during the winter of 1906, to earn money towards the expenses of Emil's and his homesteads on Deep Creek in Routt County, Colorado. Through me, he was put in touch with a canvassing job and it paid so well that I joined him. We made good money and got along so well, he suggested I come West with him when he returned. He got a job for me with Ed Fischer on the "DF" Ranch on Elk River, so we started for Colorado. All our friends were at the railroad station to see us off and we were on our way. This was when I began to learn so much more of the resourcefulness and varied abilities of Victor Barth.

Our first stop was at Niagara Falls, free feed at the shredded wheat plant (a new breakfast cereal at that time), then on to Chicago to buy ranch supplies at Montgomery Wards. Lots different then than now. We were taken to the different packing boxes, which held the items Vic was interested in. The items were put on your order and later collected and packed and shipped to Colorado. No frills, no displays . . . rough warehouse floors and dim lights but good merchandise at reasonable prices.

Now we were on our way to Denver, then on the D & R G (Denver and Rio Grand) Railroad through the Royal Gorge to Meeker, where we were to start on a stage coach ride of a hundred miles to Steamboat Springs. All this time, an eastern tenderfoot was being educated in the "ways of the West" by an old cowhand in experience, but young and full of "get up and go". That tenderfoot was enjoying every minute of it.

From Steamboat, on to the Fischer ranch where Emil and Julia had been working, Emil winter-feeding and Julia keeping house. They were very much surprised when Clio followed Victor. We had met when Emil had been east and he and Julia were given a going-away party at Carl's home (Aunt Adele's mother-in-law had remarried). It was a gay party (masquerade) and it lasted into the early morning hours.

They were to brand a few late calves the next day and we, I mean, I got into it. Immediately I was upset by a roped calf coming my way and I dodged the wrong way, thereby getting my first lesson in ranching. The Barths went back to their ranch at Deep Creek, some twelve miles from the Fischer ranch. I stayed and worked and soon learned to be useful as a ranch hand and work as such for other ranchers.

Time passed quickly, with weekend visits to the Barths, meeting their friends, going to dances, and seeing the practical and speedy manner with which my pal got things done. He was a "hustler". Some Saturday afternoons we would play ball and sometimes we would ride back in the hills and in a little mountain park, make our coffee over a small fire, eat our sandwiches, picket our horses, talk, and enjoy the beauties of a Western Sunset. Then, rolled up in our blankets with our saddles for pillows, we were off to Dreamland. Just before daybreak we'd be awakened by the sound of our horses grazing and the sound of running water in the nearby mountain stream. Then we would hunt. I must have been a Jonah, for we got no deer, but always some fool grouse to add to the dinner table fare. All of these never-to-be-forgotten associations with my pal Vic will be treasured to the end of my days.

Now for a few stepping stones I witnessed as time passed. Vic was very much in demand by those ranch owners who could afford hired hands so, whenever there was some time when Emil and Julia could manage alone, Vic would hire out. He could plow, harrow, seed, build a better haystack (and faster) than any other hand. It was a revelation to see him work. Every move counted, there were no lost motions, no time-out for coffee breaks, nothing but hard work, from sun-up to dusk. But he was paid a third more than any other worker. I think the radio and television producers got their idea of Superman from Vic . . . well, almost. He was a perfect example of "early to bed and early to rise," always the first to retire and the first one up to start the fire and warm up the cabin.

We sure had lots of fun at the Barth ranch, in fact, I spent my 21st birthday there. Emil's [Emil was a brother of Victor's] and my birthday fell on the same date. Julia baked a three-layer cake and set the table with her best dishes and linens for our birthdays. It was a gala occasion and I photographed the set table. It is still one of my treasured possessions (the picture) along with many pleasant memories of those days. Emil played the violin, Vic played also, Julia played the mandolin and I had a good singing voice, so we never lacked for entertainment.

Time went by all too fast. I took a job for the winter, back in the mountains helping mine a vein of coal that could be chuted down to a rancher's sleigh on a snow road we were preparing. I had not been on the job very long when Julia rode up with my mail from home. A letter from Mother indicated, between the lines, that I might be needed at home. So I went back. It was well that I did, for the evening of the day of my arrival, my dad was badly hurt in a trolley accident resulting in a compound fracture at the base of the skull. He was unconscious in the hospital and the doctors said that his chance of recovery was very doubtful as they had no record of anyone recovering from such a fracture. Dad was made of sterner materials and after three weeks of unconsciousness, with Mother with him during the days and I during the long, silent nights, he came to, one early morning and recognized me and in one week's time, we took him home and in about six months he had fully recovered his memory. The doctors were amazed and said he was the first one to recover from such an injury. So Mother's premonition was true.

Now Vic and I became "pen pals" and a letter now and then kept us each informed of the other's doings. Emil married and brought his bride to the home ranch, Julia married and went to live at her husband's ranch and Vic married the girl of his choice [Jennie Grace Cool, who had lived with her parents on a nearby ranch] and moved over to his homestead to live.

After proving their homesteads [a method of getting ownership to the land from the governmet], they decided to dissolve partnership and Vic and his wife went north [near Renton, Washington] to work for one of his wife's relatives, coal mining, and then a job at a hydraulic placer mine, then back to Denver to several different ventures. He finally went to work fort the Hardisy Iron Works and with that ability of his to do a better job than the average, he rose to the superintendency of the company.

Their marriage was blessed with three fine boys, Vincent [Vincent David], Donald [Donald Scott] and Jack [Jack Edward]. His letters of their various camping and hiking trips were most interesting. The Great Out of Doors was his book and he was well acquainted with all its pages. Lean, hard, "fit as a fiddle", quick thinking and full of vitality was my pal, Victor.

In 1931, I decided to take my family west to visit Routt County, the Fischers, and Victor and his family. What an enjoyable visit we had! His children and our children and Gary, the well-trained police dog, had a marvelous time together. Vic showed us all around and introduced us to the Mosers, a wonderful couple whose artistry know no bounds. The world would be much better for more of such perfectionists as the Mosers.

We went on a trip to Estes Park and got caught in a storm and decided to stay over night at one of the big shelters there along with other folks and it was there that my wife had her first experience with camping out. From then on, she was a devotee and when we got back to New Jersey, we spent many pleasant vacations camping, on various trips to all the scenic and interesting places in the East.

Victor's family, Julia's family [Julia was a sister to Victor], the Mosers and we, all started on a trip to the Tetons in Wyoming. There were many enjoyable side trips on the way and all of our children got along fine. We were too late for the Cheyenne round up. At the hot springs at Thermopolis in the big swimming pool, tragedy was averted when Lerwell, Julia's oldest boy, called my attention to my boy, Walter, who could not swim. He had been bumped off the tube he'd been paddling around on, in deep water and was in bad shape. I dove in, got him out, and after some sputtering and gasping, he was all right, thanks to Lerwell's noticing what had happened.

We visited Buffalo Bill's winter quarters in Cody and then on to the Tetons. At Jenny Lake, I suddenly realized that we had over-stayed our vacation time and regretfully took leave of such enjoyable friends.

Prior to our trip west, wonderful and gracious Aunt Ida [a sister to Victor] had brought all her nephews on a trip east and they visited a few days with us at Springfield, New Jersey. We had a lot of fun and we hated to see them go. Aunt Ida was surely a Lady Bountiful and the sweetest person we have ever known. She visited with us often when she was in charge of the Young Ladies' Home in Newark, New Jersey.

Again, it was time for Vic to show what he was "made of". Hardisy sold out to another company and Vic was out, as they put one of their men in his job. The going was hard, he tried several ventures, but they were not to his liking. Then he heard of the Bureau of Reclamation and made application to take a position as Inspector of Riveting and Welding, with which he was thoroughly familiar, had worked at, and had become a supervisor. This was not an easy thing to accomplish. These jobs were political plums and the Administration was Democratic. This did not phase him. He kept at it until he finally got to the governor, who told him about the patronage angle but Vic finally sold him on his record and his accomplishments as an all around supervisor in this field and got the position.

Another "stepping stone" had been created and he was sent to Boulder dam as an inspector, from its start to the time when all the iron and steelwork was completed. He was sent to various plants to inspect work that was to be shipped to dam sites and there he inspected their assembly. He was very proud of the fact that when his O.K. was put on a job, it was completely up to specifications. Several contractors tried to bribe him to pass jobs that did not meet what was called for, but he turned them down and his big boss in Denver upheld all his decisions and complimented him for his honesty. Vic worked on all the dams built by the Bureau, and was retired at the age of 72 with the rating of an Engineer. What a career, from a sixth grade public school class to a rating that requires a college degree! Wow!

A final stepping stone in this field was his being selected as the engineer to go to a big dam that the Mexicans were building near Vera Cruz, to teach them how to read, electronically, inspections of welds. Three months were taken up with this and he was much pleased with the results.

Vic had told Edna and me about the trip he was going to make, visiting all the folks on both Grace's side and his side. When he returned, I visited him at Jack's home but he did not show that old pep I had been used to, over the years. I asked him to come down to San Diego with me and stay for a while, as he wanted to visit Julia and Arthur in their new home. He was not feeling too well and I drove him to their home where he stayed overnight. I picked him up the next evening. We made reservations for Vic to fly home on Saturday. Later in the month I called on him at Jack's and he was feeling no better. Shortly after that, Polly called me and said they had taken him to the hospital. When I visited him there, I was surprised at how much he had changed. I tried to be cheerful and encouraging, but did not think my pal would so soon leave us to join his loved-one in that Spiritual World. May the Good Lord keep them ever in His care.

We had so many wonderful experiences over the sixty or more years we were pals. Vic was the closest of all my friends. My mother loved him as her own son and always said that we two should have been evangelists. Both being Masons, perhaps we were. Knowing that he gave so unselfishly of himself to all, and of his many good deeds surely must have influenced others to emulate him. It was most gratifying to us both when our sons, Donald and Robert became Master Masons. After all the years of our friendship, it was even more satisfying to know that we embraced the Principles of that Honorable and Ancient Order.

Now, of the four pals I, alone, am left, not mourning for their passing, but so very thankful, to the Supreme Ruler of the Universe for the wonderful times we had together. I shall patiently bide my time until I, too, am called to again be with those I love. So long, Old Pal, for a while and thank you for being such an example and inspiration to me, and to all, over the past years.

Vaya con Dios and Adios, Old Pal.
Clio

The following is a letter from Clio Davidson to Vincent Barth [Victor and Grace's eldest son] and his family that accompanied Clio’s story, above.

769 33rd Street
Manhattan Beach, CA 90266

August 12, 1966

Dear Vincent, Norma Jane, and children:

This word picture of your Dad’s and my friendship through the years, is my offering to you all. It was an honor and privilege to know him.

What I have written has come from my heart, for he was my dearest friend, so please accept my words as my thank offering for knowing such a wonderful man and Masonic brother.

Most sincerely,
Clio Davidson

P.S. This is being written from my daughter’s home where I will be staying until after Labor Day, when I will go back to San Diego.
Clio