Eva Delilah Stanford, daughter of Thomas Barnett Stanford and Mary Jane Hiatt, was born 15 May 1897 in Parker, Fremont, ID. Ralph Dee Caron was born 1 Aug 1894 in Enid, Garfield, OK.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Caron, whose marriage occurred in Walla Walla, Wednesday, September 20 [1922], were entertained with a shower at the home of Mrs. Anna Stanford Monday evening.
“Mr. and Mrs. Caron were invited to the Stanford home early in the evening. The guests assembled at a near by house and came over in a body. Many useful and beautiful gifts were presented to the bride and groom, providing both for present and for anticipated needs.
“Games were played and refreshments served to the guests who were: Mr. and Mrs. E. Hiatt, Mr. and Mrs. Stutsman, Mr. and Mrs. Will Graham, Mr. and Mrs. J. P. Desler, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, Mr. and Mrs. H. T. Desler, Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Wolverton, Mrs. Earl Smith, the Misses Ada Stanford, Mae Stanford, Gladys Gillman, Myrtle Grosgabaner, Lela Harris, Ernest Scheuch, Earnest Desler, John Desler, and Vern Desler.” [ref. Newspaper clipping; ‘Shower Given Newlyweds’ probably in Milton EAGLE, Milton Oregon]
Eva’s Story in her words
Taped June 13 1981 by Betty L Hanson
& Proof read by Eva
Ralph and I were married in September (Mae and Ernest Scheuch married in October of 1922.). After the fruit was over that fall, we went with Mae and Ernest to California on a honeymoon. Mae and I had been working at the telephone office in Milton-Freewater, but we quit. Ernest had an old model T Ford that caused us trouble all the way to California. The bearing kept going out. We’d go a little ways and another would go out. Ralph had a pair of high-topped boots with a leather tongue. So, Ralph and Ernest took the tongue out and made a bearing for the car, which lasted until we got to California where it went out again. On the way we camped out along the road. We also stopped to see Aunt Lou Rands at Boardman. After we arrived, Ralph and Ernest went to work picking oranges. Mae and I stayed in camp at our tent in Redlands. There were quite a few Mexicans around the area and sometimes Ralph and Ernest would not get back before dark. Mae and I were kind of scared of the Mexicans. We had a little Coleman burner that we kept hot water on, so if any Mexicans came around we would scald them with it. Later on, Ralph and Ernest wanted us to pack oranges. So we did. At one packinghouse, they packed the Blue Goose brand and all the geese on the packing paper on the top layer were suppose to fly the same direction. But, Mae and I didn’t see what it mattered, so we packed them every which way. We quit! (Later in Arizona, I did pack the geese flying the same direction. It is easy to do.)
We had been living there awhile when Mae got sick. Ernest took her to a hotel room in Redlands. She got well. The old Ford, (you had to crank to start. Ralph held on to the crank while Ernest was inside the car.) Kicked back and broke an artery in Ralph’s lung and he spit up a lot of blood. But, he let it go and never went to the doctor.
In the spring, Ernest bought a Chevy and Ralph bought a Model T Ford. In the winter, we came back to Walla Walla Valley. On the way back we stopped in Athena, Oregon. It was snowing and we couldn’t get the cars to push through the snow. So, we left them there and came on by train. Later, Ralph and Ernest went to get the cars.
In the fall we (Ralph & Eva) went to Ritzville, Washington and packed apples. Ada, Eva’s sister went along. Ralph was waiting on us (brought fruit to table to be packed) while we packed.
Ralph’s health was pretty good until we got back, then he got pneumonia. I took one of Mom’s remedies of mustard and plaster and put it on him. I thought, “I’m going to brake that cold up.” He started bleeding like he was throwing up. I took him to the doctor in Ritzville and he gave him some medicine and told him to eat well including medium rare steak and baked potatoes.
In late fall or early winter we went down to California on the train. Ralph had sold our car to his brothers, Bert and Fred. We stayed around Redlands for a month then went to Arizona for Ralph’s health. We had a hard time. At first, I didn’t know much about packing but learned. Ralph had a little money saved up but doctor bills and such took it all. Ralph’s parents bought a place on 7th street (Sunnyslope), Phoenix, Arizona and put it in our name. There was about 5-10 acres. We sold some of it and Ralph built a house, until it was built we lived in a tent with a wooden floor. Ralph wasn’t able to work for four years after we arrived.
Ralph went to work on the stamp machine (put imprint on fruit – like Sunkist) at a packing shed. Guy and Susie Burkdoll (don’t remember how we met.) were living in Prescott and Ralph was talking to them at work. Guy told Ralph that there was 140 acres of land that the government was going to sell for taxes and were taking sealed bids. (The government would also give you a lease for 40 acres.). Guy said, “If you put in a bid for $300.00 you will probably get it.” He already knew what another person had bid. We got the land. We lived here for about 24 years (1933-1957).
Ralph went out and built a house while I worked in the fruit at Phoenix. The land had no improvements, so I worked while Ralph fixed it up. We weren’t always sure where the next meal was coming from until I started working.
I worked in the pack sheds every winter. Sometimes they would start in July and then have a few months off until starting again and work until July. When I had several days off; I rode the bus to work and back; I’d come home. We never had a phone so I’d have to let Ralph know ahead of time when I would be coming. The bus would let me off at the Junction where Ralph would meet me. Sometimes some of the kids from the pack shed would give me a ride. I worked from 1924-1949. One winter we had an apartment in Mesa, the other winter we kept one in phoenix.
After my father died (I wasn’t able to attend the funeral), mother came down and spent the winter. Another winter, Blanche (Eva’s sister) spent a winter with us and worked in the citrus fruit.
We had a truck garden. Cabbage was the main crop, but we also had radishes, eggplant, tomatoes, and winter onions. If the onions froze a little, there were okay until thawed out. In the summer Ralph would haul eggs, cabbage, and different produce to Phoenix and Prescott two or three times a week.
We would put the winter onions in orange crates and stack them outside the garage and cover them up. In wintertime we would take them into Prescott. Every week we would have an order. When Ralph went into Phoenix with a load of produce, he would bring a load of chicken feed and supplies back.
Later, we stared raising chickens. At one time we had about 500 laying hens. We’d clear $2000-$3000 a year on our chickens. We did pretty good, of course, there was a lot of hard work.
We got a few cattle; we’d sell them too. We fed them cabbage leaves and everything else. We had some land across the Hampampa River, where Ralph planted grain and hay to feed the cattle. We sold wheat and butchered the cattle ourselves. The State Inspector from Kirkland would tell us to drop him a card when we were ready to butcher and he would come out and inspect the meat. We’d stamp the meat to make it legal. We had good customers for the meat and butter I made.
We were out branding calves and Ralph had one down and tied, but it kicked loose and hit him in the side of his rib cage. He never paid much attention to it. All summer though, he kept saying his side hurt when we went to milk the cows, but he never went to a doctor.
When I was up here (Milton-Freewater, Oregon) in November (1956) to see Mother, I got a letter from Ralph. He wondered when I was coming home. He said, he had been sick and had never been so sick in his life but was feeling better. Gallstones passing from the kidneys into the bladder caused this, we found out later. I wrote then and told him when I would be home. He never went to the doctor until May. The doctor said he should go to the clinic in Cottonwood (between Flagstaff and Prescott) and see what they can find. They diagnosed it as kidney stones and said he would need to be operated on. So, we made an appointment. Kirby’s took us to Cottonwood where Ralph was operated on. I stayed 3-4 days there, then since he was feeling fine, went home for a few days. When I went back he was really sick. The place where he had been kicked flared up also. The doctor tried giving him everything to stop the infection that had set in but it didn’t do any good. There was a red streak (probably caused from infection) about one inch wide that went from the kick in his side to the private parts.
He was conscious all the time so I stayed. Susie and Guy Burkdoll stayed out at the place and took care of things (chickens, cattle, etc.). In the meantime, I called Blanche (Ralph’s sister), and told her Ralph was real sick. She had better come if she wanted to see him. The doctor didn’t give him much chance. I was pretty worried. So, she and Tom (Ralph’s brother) came down on the bus from Calgary, Canada. Before they got into Cottonwood, Tom had a spell (don’t know what it was … altitude?). He was real sick. Blanche said his eyes just ‘popped’ out of his face. She was terribly scared. Tom came out of it okay. They got into Prescott in the early morning (10:00 am), but too late to see Ralph.
I was in Ralph’s room. I stayed right there with him and I’d say, “Ralph, You listening to me?” He’d groan and you could see he was slipping off. His fingernails were turning blue and he was hard to understand. He died early that morning. He had suffered terribly. He died June 18, 1957 and is buried in Prescott, Arizona. He would have been 60 years old August 1st.
I had the cattle, chickens, etc, to sell. That spring, I hadn’t gotten any young chickens. Usually, I’d get a couple 100-baby chicks, that way I never had any roosters and the eggs were better – no germ in them. I sold the chickens to a place where we had taken a lot of feed in Prescott.
We had the place up for sell before Ralph died. “I prayed to goodness that someone would come along and buy the place.” These people, the Truman’s from Waddell, Arizona that finally bought the place, hadn’t been up to Prescott for along time, and had never been around the area. They were taking a trip and drove by the place and saw our ‘For Sale’ sign. They would think about it and talk it over. By that time, about September, I was getting kind of leery, as I had no way to take care of the cattle. A neighbor, Bob, below me bought the cattle (10-20 head) from me at the going market price. The Truman’s did come back and buy the place. I knocked a thousand off the price since I already had sold the cattle.
Ernest [Scheuch] said he would come down. I sent him a ticket and he drove my old DeSoto (car) back (to Milton-Freewater). It was a ‘big old thing’. Ralph and I didn’t pay much for it, a few hundred dollars. We got it second hand at Kingman, Arizona. It was semi-automatic.
I let the furniture and things go with the house.
“Why didn’t you bring the cider press?”, Betty asked. “Because, I didn’t have anything to press!” replied Eva.
I stayed up here then with Mae, Blanche and Mabel (Eva’s sisters).
Final
Eva was in the living room talking to her sister, Mae on the phone. Blanche and Sims were in the kitchen. Pretty soon, Eva stopped talking and they assumed that she had gone into her room. But, Mae knew something was wrong because Eva never said good-bye. Mae tried to call back but the phone gave a busy signal. She then called Fernie, who lived next door, and told him what had happened. He came right over. In the mean time, Mae tried to call again and this time the phone rang. Blanche went in to answer it and found Eva slumped over in the chair. About this time Fernie had made it over and they called an ambulance. She was taken to the hospital where she remained in a coma from a massive stroke.
Eva died Sunday, Feb 28, 1982 at St Mary’s Community Hospital in Walla Walla, Washington after a week’s illness.
In Memory
By Jack and Helen Truman
From a letter to Betty L Hanson
Thank you for letting us know about Eva. We missed hearing from her with her note on the card, so we were afraid, that it might be the news you sent.
She was a very warm hearted person, someone we learned to respect and love because of her thoughtfulness to us. We had some pretty rough times during the years and Mrs. Caron always seemed to understand and trust us.
Even though we had such casual communication, we feel that we have lost a true friend. She will remain in our memory, and our last visit with her there in Milton-Freewater, is still a joy to recall.
