I, Ross Shirley, was born at our home in Salem on June 25, 1912. Dr. Shupe came down from Sugar City in a horse and buggy and delivered a baby boy to James Frederick Shirley and Sarah Francis Virgin Shirley. That’s when I came into the picture. I was the 8th of eleven children. We grew up in a five-room frame house in Salem, Madison County, Idaho. Population of Salem – about 200 people.
I was given a blessing in the old Salem chapel by George Inman, On August 4, 1912. I was baptized a member of the church in the irrigation canal that ran by the front of our home by Peter Mortensen. He baptized his son, Floyd, and me the same day since we were close neighbors and were born just a few hours apart. Christian Mortensen confirmed me in July 1920 and I was ordained a Deacon by George Hogge. I was ordained a Priest in 1931 and an Elder by David Archibald on May 22, 1932. I was President of the Elders Quorum from 1937 to 1939. I was ordained a Seventy by Milton R. Hunter on May 15, 1949.
I was ordained a High Priest by Edward S. Covington on February 11, 1968. Was High Priest Group Leader in Wilford Ward, St. Anthony Stake from 1979 to 1983.
My earliest recollections were when I was about five or six years old. At that time we ran a dry-farm east of Dubois, Idaho. Water was hauled from Camas Creek in a tank mounted on a wagon. The water was pumped by hand into the tank then hauled eight to ten miles to the ranch and allowed to drain into a cement cistern for culinary purposes. Also, to water the livestock. Periodically the cistern had to be thoroughly drained and cleaned. I was often lowered to the bottom by a rope and assisted in bailing out athe last few gallons of water which often contained a few grasshoppers and stink bugs.
We also had a ranch in Kilgore where we pastured cattle and put up hay. I remember wading in the ice-cold creek that ran nearby. It was there that I was the first to come down with “mump’s.” That fall I came home to Salem and I started my first year of school at Sugar City. When we were farming at Dubois, Dad bought our first automobile – a Model T. Ford. I remember getting stuck in the sand with it on our way across the desert north west of St. Anthony.
My health, as a rule, was pretty good when I was growing up. As I said before, I got the mumps when I was about six and nearly the whole family got the “flu” when that epidemic came around. We were nearly all seriously ill but all survived. Rod was the only one that didn’t come down with it. My most serious accident happened when I was about 12 years old. Rod and I were running across a cattle guard on the railroad track in Salem. They were the open type with ties about 10 inches apart. My foot slipped through and I fell forward tearing the ligaments loose in the back of my leg. Other than having my tonsils taken out when I was about 14 I didn’t see much of hospitals until I was well into my fifties. It was then that I had stomach ulcers and had the lower part of my stomach removed. About ten years later, I had an operation for a prostate condition and a year later had to have a kidney stone removed. My latest visit to the hospital, 1984, was to have some excess cartilage and bone removed from my right shoulder. Now, three months later, it is much improved.
Religion always played an important part in our home as we were growing up. Mother always saw to it that we attended church regularly, and it was through the faith and prayers of my parents that we all pulled through the “flu” epidemic without losing anyone. (
Pictures at left provided by Aunt Myrtle from her journal).Economic conditions were real bad when we were growing up. Father died in 1924 and Mother still had eight or nine children living at home – in ages from about 8 to the low twenties. We all worked on the farm which Leo took over and managed to eke out a living. The worst part came in late twenties when the depression struck. I was a senior in high school at Sugar City at that time and I remember the day the Sugar City Bank closed it’s doors. This was a serious blow to me as all the student body funds were in the bank which meant that all of our student activities were seriously hampered – including no year book. That was the one year that I really wanted one as I was student body president, captain of the football team and co-=captain of the basketball team.
We had about a dozen milk cows that kept us busy. Rod and I would get up in the morning, do the milking and feeding, then go to school and come home at night and do the same thing over. It was a tough way to make a living but that was about all that kept us going. Jobs were hard to find during the summer and if we did find one, it only paid one dollar a day. When I graduated from Ricks College, my first teaching job, in Teton Basin, paid $75.00 per month. The next year I got a teaching job at Sugar City that paid $90.00 per month and I didn’t have to pay rent and board. This was a considerable improvement. In fact, Bonnie and I traded in our old model A Ford for a brand new Ford V-8 which cost $750.00 – right off the show-room floor.
It was about this time that Leslie was called on a mission to Florida, so Bonne, Sallie, and I did what we could to keep him out there – as we were the only ones still at home who had a job. Then after he got back Rodney was called to a mission in England. So – Sallie and I each sent him about $35 per month. I don’t know how he managed on that amount but that was about it.
Things went on like that until 1939 when I heard of some job opportunities in the air-craft plants in California. So I went to Los Angeles and found a job with Lockheed – building P-38’s. This was a little more interesting than teaching school and the pay was much better. The P-38 was the pursuit plane that had two booms extending from the wings to the tail section. These booms were the part we built in our section of the plant. We got so we could put all the parts in a jig and complete it in one 8 hour shift. In fact, we got so far ahead that they sent some of us to another part of the plant to help them catch up. After I had been working at Lockheed for a year or so, the Japs attacked Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. The whole city of Los Angeles and near by towns was blacked out and we all expected air attacks on L.A., especially the aircraft plants. But nothing materialized.
The attack on Pearl Harbor really stirred everyone up. So – a lot of the younger plant workers were going down to the Post Office Building in Los Angeles and signing up with the Navy which was offering some pretty good ratings to any0one with special skills – such as air-craft mechanics, etc. So I went down to see what they had to offer. The best they would offer me was Seaman 2nd Class and I said “Make that 1st Class and I sign on the dotted line.” The recruiter said he couldn’t do any better at the time. So, I said “When you can, let me know,” and went back to Lockheed.
A few months later, 1942, I went to Pocatello, Idaho with Otto Jorgensen a nd took some tests to see if they would accept me in the air-corp to train to be a pilot. We both passed the test and signed up. However, they said all of the schools were filled at that time and to go home until they called us. Well, I went home and waited but nothing happened. So I went to Ogden, Utah and got a job in construction work at Clearfield and Hill Field. After about a year, I finally decided I had waited long enough so I wrote the Air Force and told them I either wanted “in-0or-out.” So they said they had all the pilots they needed so I got out. I then joined the Merchant Marine and took three months training at Catalina Island, California. And upon graduation, they took the two from each class and sent us to an officers school in Florida. After graduation from St. Petersburg, they sent me to New Orleans, Louisiana for more training. Here we took boat training on Lake Ponchartrain and also on the Mississippi River. One time we sailed down the Mississippi – out into the ocean and to Florida. When we got back the word got around that the army T. Corp would offer us a commissi8on to come work for them. So a lot of us accepted and we became army 2nd lieutenants and were sent to Fort Gordon Johnson for further training.
Finally, we were sent to the P.O.E. in San Francisco, California and landed in New Guinea. After joining a large convoy we headed for the Philippines and landed at Tacloban, Layte. This was a month or so after the initial landing so things were still a little unsettled. We often had air raids and had to head for the fox holes but outside of a few bombs nothing much exciting happened.
After being ashore for a week or so we were assigned to our first shp – an army rescue tug. With this, we were to go out with convoys and in case of enemy attack we were to tow in any disabled or wrecked ships. Our first trip was from the Philippines to New Guinea. We had trouble keeping up and the convoy commander must have finally decided after a few days that we were too slow so just pulled away and left us. It was then that I hoped the Jap subs wouldn’t find us or we would have been sitting ducks. However, we finally made it and the army decided that we were better qualified for towing barges than rescuing people so we towed barges between New Guinea and various islands in the Philippines for a long time – 7 round trips, in fact. We also made numerous short runs and finally towed a floating machine shop from Manila to Okinawa and on up to Japan.
It was in Japan that we put our ship, a 143 foot tug, in dry dock and had some repairs made. It was in the spring of 1945. The cherry blossoms were out and the country was really beautiful. However, the outskirts of Tokyo and Yokohama were a shambles of burned out buildings. Nothing much left but smoke-stacks and rusting metal. After three months here we sailed back to the Philippines and waited our turn to come home. In August 1946, I boarded a Victory Ship in Manila and after sixteen days, landed in San Francisco. Sally and Howard were there to meet me. However, I had to travel to Ft. Lewis, Washington to get my discharge 16 Sept. 1946.
When I got home I took a trip to Ogden, Utah, to see a girl that I had met on a blind date just before I went overseas. After a brief courtship, I decided she was the one for me and we were married in the Logan Temple on 14 May 1947. After our honeymoon in California we remodeled the old Tom Dalling home and settled down in Salem, Idaho. There we raised four children, three boys and a girl – in that order.
As the kids were growing up, we always saw to it that everyone went to church on Sunday and Marge always took them to Primary as she worked in that organizat65ion for many years. This gave the kids a good understanding of the Gospel and aroused an interest for all the boys to go on a mission. Neal and Dale went to Brazil and Scott to Guatemala and El Salvador. After getting back from the service I went into construction work with Fred, Rod, and Fred’s boys. For a long time we did the lion’s share of the building in Rexburg. Besides the framing and finish work, Rod and I did the brick-laying. So when we started a house, we did about everything but the plumbing and electrical work and the painting.
(Family photo left to right front, Janet, Scott, 2nd Neal, Dale, Ross, Marge, about 1959).
We always kept quite busy in construction work but quite often found time to do a little fishing. Our favorite spot was Staley’s Springs on Henry’s Lake. When we first started to fish there in the 30’s and 40’s, the fishing was fabulous. There were many cut-throats and rainbows that averaged 3 to 4 pounds. Once in a while we would hook onto a tackle-buster like 8-10 pounds. Rod caught one that weighed 16 lbs. And the limit was 15 lbs and a fish. So we always came home with a good supply of fish. I remodeled an old refrigerator and made a smoker out of it. Some people used to say that Henry’s Lake fish were too mossy and not good to eat, but everyone seemed to like them when they came out of that smoker.
Hunting has always been a favorite sport of mine. Some of the most fun trips were when we used to hunt antelope out on Birch Creek. When we first started to hunt them, not many people applied for a permit so nearly every fall one or two of us were lucky enough to get a permit and away we’d go.
The antelope weren’t too good to eat but it was great sport to chase them around and finally get into position for a good shot. I still get a charge out of hunting deer and elk and go somewhere every fall. My problem is – I-m always going with young fellows that like to climb the high peaks after the big bucks. Pretty soon I’m going to have to stop that.
During the summer of 1960 I was working with the other Shirley boys on the new library at Ricks College and I was offered a job as building inspector for the college on the new Science building. This looked like a pretty good deal so I went to work for them. After that building was completed, I worked for them steady as a maintenance foreman in charge of carpentry and painting. This I did for several years and then transferred into the Security Depart. This was real interesting work and I stayed there until I retired in 1977.
It was as a police officer at the College that I became quite interested in pistol shooting and went to several shoots each year throughout the state and Montana, where I picked up a few trophies. Even now that I am retired, I’m still an active participant. The eyes are not quite so good but I can still out-shoot most of these young bucks. Otherwise, I quit going.
It was quite interesting to work at the same college that I had attended as a boy and see all the changes that were taking place. When I went to Ricks in 1933-35, there were only two buildings. When I started to work at Ricks there were three buildings and I watched it grow to its present size. After I retired from Ricks, they asked me to come back and supervise the construction of the new stadium. This I accepted and it was a pleasure to watch the new building go up and get paid for it. It reminded me of when I used to play football for Ricks. We had no stadium, no bleachers, or anything along that line. But we still won the championship and the right to go to the Hawaiian Islands. That was the first and probably the last time Ricks has sent a team to the Islands and I was real lucky to come along at the right time.
Just before I retired from work at Ricks College, the Teton Dam burst on the 5th of June 1976. Marge and I had gone to Salt Lake City, Utah to bless our new grandson, Christopher. Just afternoon on Saturday, we got a call from Neal stating that the dam had burst. We watched the news come in on television and expected the worst because they said hundreds of people had lost their lives. After church services the next day, we headed home. Dale, Janene and two of their friends came up with us to help. We couldn’t come directly home because of blockades and washed out bridges so we had to detour up through Lava, Palisades, Victor, Driggs, and almost to Ashton, then back to St. Anthony.
(Photo view from northwest corner of lot looking southeast, just after June 5, 1976).We spent that night at Neal’s home and went down the next morning to see what was left of the old homestead. The approaches to the bridge on the Teton River were washed out and filled with running water but the bridge was still there. So we waded to the bridge, climbed upon it and then waded a quarter mile or so to higher ground. The house was full of gooy muck and the basement full of water. Everything on the first level was ruined. The steel building had the east side caved in and the big door on the west was torn away. Many stored items had been washed away. The new Ford pick-up and Bronco had been flooded as well as the snow machine, snow blower, lawn mower, etc., just to mention a few major items.
We all pitched in and salvaged what we could but many of the salvaged items were ruined later because there was no place to store things out of the weather. The mice also played havoc with clothing and other items before we got our new house built. The next spring we had things pretty well squared away with the government and started construction on our new home. I did most of the work but the kids were good to help with the framing, plumbing, wiring, and painting. Finally, we got it about completed so that we had Thanksgiving dinner in it that fall. The next spring I had a mover come in and move the steel building up to it’s present location. This helped things considerable. Many of the pine trees at the old location were also moved to the present location.
During my life-time I have come from the horse-and-buggy days to the jet-age. As kids, our main means of transportation were horses. We used to drive the cows to pasture each day on horse-back. The pasture was down on the ranch where Leo and Mary lived – about 3 miles away. So herding cows took a good share of my time as a small boy. Later on we finally got a bicycle and eventually a model T Ford. My first car was a 1929 Model A, then a new ’35 V-8, then a 1937 Oldsmobile. After getting out of the service, Marge and I bought a 1949 Plymouth;. The next one was a ’63 Plymouth which lasted until we bought a new 1968 Ford Torino. Incidentally, we have 183,000 miles on this car and are still driving
it – even though we have a new Chrysler New Yorker. It, the ’68 Ford, has never had an overhaul of any kind and is still in good running condition. I’m quite sure we can get 200,000 miles on it if we live long enough.
(Photos of cars borrowed from various internet sites).
Yes, transportation has really changed during my life-time. Last fall we flew to Alaska via Western Airlines. This spring we flew to Washington D.C. – took Amtrak to New York City and then flew back home. That’s a far cry from the way it was when I was a boy.
The day the Teton dam broke, Ard and I had gone to Lagoon Amusement Park. We were totally unaware that the dam had broken until we got back to Salt Lake and got word from Stretch. Mom and dad were in Salt Lake for Chris’s baby blessing. I remember we went to church at Stretch’s ward long enough for Chris to be blessed, then we all got up and left to head for Idaho. If I remember right, we traveled up to Idaho in a three-car caravan, with mom and dad leading the way. We had to detour east up through Lava Hot Springs, Victor, Driggs and almost to Ashton because of road closures resulting from the flood waters before we could get down to Neal and Cathie’s place to spend the night.
The next morning we got up and headed down to mom and dad’s place. We had to walk in from the north until we got to their place. I was shocked at the devastation. Railroad tracks were ripped up and standing on their sides like a picket fence, trees had been flattened, fences were swept away. Mom and dad had a big steel building in their backyard and the east side of it was caved in and the door on the west was pretty much ripped off.
When we went in the house there was a water line in the living room showing how deep water had gotten inside. There was mud and straw from the neighbor’s barnyard inside the house.
Sometime mid-morning, I remember the guys coming inside the house to tell the womenfolk not to look out the kitchen window to the west. Well, of course, the first thing we did was go look out the window. Some poor man had drowned in the flood and his body was just below the surface of the water near the garden. Somehow word was transmitted to the authorities and a helicopter was dispatched to transport the victim. I remember the guys struggling through the mud, carrying the man out to the road where he could be picked up. (The photo at left came out in a Utah paper. It was recognized by Stretch's mother-in-law, who saved it for us. It shows the men carrying the victim.)
I remember Mom cobbling lunch together and we sat out in the front yard on kitchen chairs eating our lunch. (The photo at left shows everyone eating lunch on kitchen chairs lined up on the sidewalk in about six inches of water. Dad is sitting in the recliner at the end of the sidewalk. This was shortly before the victim was retrieved.)
(The photo at left shows the refrigerator which had tipped over on its back during the flood. Mom had opened the door, which had been water-tight, and made sandwiches out of what was left inside. What resourcefulness!)
This is the view to the south, showing our front yard. The water was not too deep on the road for the cars to get through. There was a lot of talk about evacuating, but Dad was determined to stay. The car is our 1953 Ford. The water was about two-feet deep according to what Mom had written on the back of this photo. Irving Ball's home is shown to the south.
