Living With Rattlesnakes

Growing up in Utah’s sagebrush mountains with its rocky cliffs, it’s inevitable I’d see a rattlesnake. My mother warned me to be careful where I walked or played as a child. My dad was more adventurous; he took me out hunting for rattlesnakes when we were on picnics in the mountains of central Utah. Carrying a big stick, he used it to deftly hit a rattler on its head killing it instantly. Seeing no need for snakes in the world, he hunted them and collected their rattles.

Working on the railroad, my dad’s family had lived in many out of the way places at train stops that no longer exist. When the children were old enough for school, they moved back into town where they attended classes. Grandpa still worked daily out on the railroad, then returned home for the weekends. During the summers when the kids were out of school, the family lived together in one of the small company homes located along the tracks in rural Utah. Living in the boonies without electricity or a nearby grocery store was an adventure. Many mornings my grandmother chased the rattlesnakes out of her house with a broom. (Photo on left is my dad proudly showing his dead? rattlesnake.)

The boys in the family became very skilled at hunting rattlers. As far as I know none of our family was ever bitten, even grandpa who had been a sheepherder, outdoorsman and hunter all his life. He respected snakes and stayed out of their way unless he was specifically hunting for them. I know some of the workers on his railroad work gang actually ate snakes for their scanty mealtimes. I guess that’s putting the reptiles to a good use.

When some of my grandparents’ ancestors arrived in the Utah territory, they lived in dugouts (see photo on right) before being able to build themselves proper homes. Finding an available hillside, a small room was dug out. Walls of adobe or wood, and a roof of tree limbs covered with sod made for temporary living quarters. A stove or fireplace inside provided heat and light. Usually the opening for a door was covered with a blanket. I can just imagine the number and variety of living creatures including snakes that looked upon this newly constructed abode as inviting. When it rained, the roof invariably leaked and had to be patched. Living in dugouts with rattlesnakes doesn’t sound fun to me but it was all they had.

Voices from the Past

I've had these old homemade records that my mom had preserved carefully packed in a box since 1943. She tried to play them for me once decades ago on an old record player but they were very scratchy and difficult to hear. They are homemade recordings that my uncle Les made in Venice California during WWII. But what made them most interesting for me is that Les interviews my dad who died in 1945, my mom gone since 2006 and my self as a little blond girl about 3 years old.

Always curious to what my dad's voice sounded like, I took them to a company in Salt Lake City that restores and digitizes old recordings, films and videos. Now I am in the processing of transcribing them and improving the sound quality to make CDs for my family members who knew and still miss these family members. Les also interviews his wife Esther, daughter JoAnn and two of her little friends, his bro-in-law Norman, his wife Gladys and their child Ruth. Most of these people are no longer with us but waiting in the heavens for the great family reunion we'll have one day.

As I'm doing this transcribing, I realize how important it is for each of us to preserve our voice for our progenitors whether on tape, video tape or just written down. There will be those of our grandchildren or extended family who will treasure our words and remember the contribution we made to their lives. So let me encourage you again to write your biography or experiences from your life, whether by blogging or emails or in a printed record to leave for your family and friends. We do make an impression on others during our sojourn here on earth.