My name is Josephine Marie Cooper Fisher. I was born at St. Alphonsus Hospital, September the 6th, 1916 in Boise, Idaho. I was considered a birthday present for my mother, as she was born September the 8th, only it was 1891. We left Boise early in June of 1921 in our Buick Touring car for Jarbidge. My father knew he could get work there. he truly had gold fever and with his knowledge from working in Idaho gold mines, Tonopah, Virginia City and several others, he became the foreman of the Bluster in Jarbidge.
When we moved there, my sister Lillian was eight; my brother John was six; and I was four and a half. We were all very close and shared everything. Everything about Jarbidge was exciting to us. Dad rented a house on the upper end of Bear Creek. I don't remember how large it was but I think perhaps a kitchen and two small bedrooms. I know our weekly baths, Saturday evening, consisted of a large tub which was used for the family laundry once a week on wash day. The white clothes were put in a boiler on the kitchen stove to make sure they were white when they came out. The baths were all in the kitchen.
I don't remember any neighbors names but we children all played together and in winter we would sleigh-ride down the sloped street. It was great fun even though we had to walk back up each time. We never complained of the cold because we knew we wouldn't be able to be out and play if our parents knew that we were freezing.
There was never much money. I do remember that our grocery bill was paid once a month when Dad was paid and the store owner would give an all-day sucker to the one who was with him. that was a vivid memory. Our mother would make wonderful divinity at home for special occasions. No one ever talked about money, it was just understood that you made ends meet. I remember we ate anything that my mother cooked and she was a marvelous cook. Her bread was the best in Jarbidge and women would ask my mother her secret, which my mother discussed freely. The divinity was what I looked forward to the most.
Many times when Dad would walk home from the mine, I would run down to meet him and then I'd say, "Daddy, did you leave anything in your lunch bucket?" And so one night he pulled out a jelly sandwich and handed it to me. that was the most important thing. After that I ran down every day to meet him after work and my mother put in half of a jelly sandwich so that he could save it for me.
Christmas was most exciting in Jarbidge and the miners, many of them so young, all donated money so each child would have a huge red stocking made by the women in town. Each stocking was filled with one orange, an apple, some nuts, candy and one present. Usually mittens, scarf or a cap. We all were in a program put on by the school at the town meeting hall. When I was six, I had to hold my doll, which I had received, and recite a poem alone on stage. I remember it like it was yesterday. It goes like this:
Just see this lovely dolly that Santa brought to me,
And I'm the happiest girlie that ever you did see.
If I could see old Santa, I'd give him a great big kiss.
Well, Santa started to walk over toward me and I ran off the stage in tears. Later I learned that my dad was Santa that year. I still have the doll, but she has lost her hair in all our moves [Josephine donated the doll to the Jarbidge museum].
The only businesses I remember was the post office, grocery store and the dentist. The dentist would come once every six months and he would use the barber chair and, of course, that had to be arranged ahead of time. One day I was sent to the dentist and I had to have a tooth extracted. Anyway he gave me a shot to ease the pain and the needle broke off in the gum. He was very concerned and said that if I didn't cry and let him pull the needle out, he would give me a big box of candy. Needless to say, I was very scared but I agreed by nodding my head. He kept his word and, I remembered, he removed a box of chocolates off a shelf and handed it to me and said that I was very brave.
I remember that the post office was small and mail came in by stage from Elko. In fact, everything that I remember came in by stage from Elko. I don't remember a lot of mail, but each letter from family was an occasion.
The "red light district" was well-known and proper ladies never went on that end of town, believe me! As children, we knew that they were very special ladies as the young miners didn't have any wives and no one to keep them from being lonely. We accepted the explanation and only remember how beautifully they dressed. When we ever got a glimpse of them, which wasn't too often, but they did attend our Christmas programs. The one person I remember so well was the sheriff. I have forgotten his name, but he and my dad were good friends and I hung around them when he came into our house. He was very kind to me and would talk, which was so important as a child to have an adult just sit and talk to them.
We had a one-room schoolhouse and one teacher for eight grades. I remember there was usually only one person in the 8th grade. Each morning during roll call when our name was called, we had to go up by the teacher's desk and she would hand us an iodine pill and we would use the dipper in the bucket and take our pill. It was to help the thyroid and to prevent us having a goiter, which seemed to be very prevalent in those days. My biggest and saddest memory of school was when my brother was seven. he apparently said something to the teacher that she didn't like. She said, "Josephine, you come up to the desk." I couldn't imagine why. She then said, "You go out and get a switch. Your brother deserves punishment." I told her I couldn't as it would hurt him and she sternly said, "You go and go now!" I went out and took my time and brought in the smallest I could find and gave it to her. She had John come up to her desk and she switched his bare legs. The tears rolled down my face, but he didn't cry.
One time when Dad was working at the Bluster, one of the miners had money missing from his pocket where his things were hung. Everyone trusted each other then and so they felt they had to know who would do such a thing. Nobody confessed and one miner had an old Ouija board. he said tha tif they used it that the thief would have his name spelled out. The decided it was time to try. The owner of the board took control and sure enough the pointer spelled out a name. The man confessed and was dismissed immediately, making restitution.
I can't remember any favorite teacher but I truly loved spelling and arithmetic. I don't know why except they came easy for me. In fact, we all loved school. I don't remember the number of children in school, but I know there weren't many and the building was small. We each had our own desk and were very proud. There was one young boy in school whose father owned the Bluster. he was constantly challenging my brother. John took all he could stand and one day he hit the boy across the nose and the blood poured out. Dad heard about it when he came through town after work that day. Secrets weren't kept very well. When he came home in the house he said, "Mother, we better start packing as John has ruined everything for us." Later that evening when a knock was heard on the door, Dad opened it and there was the owner. He said, "Bill Cooper, I want to shake your hand. Your son did me a big favor." he said nothing he ever did could keep his son from being a bully but now he had been taught a lesson. My mother and dad were so relieved, as we all were.
When we lived on Bear Creek, we had a special place to hike to called "the rabbit's den". We hiked up the mountain which was a long ways to a narrow ledge which we had to cross to reach the den. The den was huge to us and just inside of it was very exciting. We never told our parents about it because we would have been forbidden to go there anymore. But you know how children are, they do keep secrets!
Also, certain times during the year, we had to bring mahogany to stack for winter fires. It was used for summer cooking also. No one complained because it was a chore that we all did. We didn't have indoor plumbing but no one else did either so that wasn't a big deal. A big inconvenience, however one can adjust to anything. With so few children in town we all got along well. Once in a while there was someone who wanted things their way and they would holler insults. In reply, we would holler back "stocks and stones may break our bones but names and faces will never hurt us!"
Another exciting thing that happened in Jarbidge that I remember vividly was the saloons there made their own liquor and they would throw the mash out in back. One day this cow got into the mash and ate until it got drunk. When it started up the road and before it had gone too far, it fell into the creek. So we children happened to see it and we ran and got whoever we could find to gather some men to pull it out, which they did. That was an exciting moment for children.
Another thing that I remember very vividly in Jarbidge was when short hair came in and none of the barbers in town, in fact, I think we only had one, would cut the ladies hair. so, they found out that my mother had cut my father's hair all the time so they came to her to see if she would cut their hair. They called it "bobbing" the hair in those days. Well, my dad was a little upset, he didn't want my mother to be ostracized, but she said, "Well, if that's what they want and it makes it easier for them to shampoo their hair, so be it." So he said, "Go ahead." So she cut the hair of several ladies and they were so pleased, she carried on. I remember the picture that I have of myself, my sister Lillian and our friend Geraldine Eckley, my mother cut her hair. So naturally, my sister wanted hers cut but at the time my father wouldn't allow it so that went by the wayside.
All the holidays were very special. Everyone pitched in to make them a real occasion. the children had sack races, tug of war and several other things on the 4th of July. The men had competitions but we were all too busy to care. I only remember our Thanksgiving was at home. I guess it was because of the weather. The weather was very severe in the winter and people didn't go out much. Christmas was different and the weather was ignored. We had church services and Sunday school. A minster from Elko would come and before he left, he would give out lessons for the next Sunday. Most families insisted their children learn the Bible. There was always someone to take charge.
There was a small cabin on Bear Creek, considered the hospital, where the miners who were hurt on the job were brought in. It was almost across from our house. My father's family in Boise had raised a girl like one of their own and she was the nurse there. Her name was Faye Myers. Her father was alone and knew she would be loved by the Coopers. She was born in 1900 and felt she wanted to go to college, so she left and later went to Berkeley, California and attended the university there. Later she married, but she never gave up nursing. She died just a couple of years ago and had a wonderful full live.
Dad was not feeling well by that time and the decision was made to move to Pavalok. I think Dad worked in the mill. I remember it so well and how the three Cooper kids would climb up the mountain. On the way up, we passed a sheepherder shack and he would let us rest there. He always had a pot of butter beans and gave us each a dish. I've never tasted anything that good, which is locked in my memory forever. If only you could know how it has been a highlight in the lives of three children. Dad wouldn't let us ride the tram which brought the ore in buckets to the mill. He felt it was too dangerous for children.
In Pavalok, we lived in a house whose back porch was almost to the creek edge. My brother John and my mother always fished from the porch and they had very good results. Mom was one of the best fisher women up there. We kids hunted the creek for gold nuggets and always found some regardless if they were small or large, we had both. We would save them until men from California, the gold seekers, would come and they were anxious to buy them. We were anxious to sell them for cash. I don't remember how much they paid, but I'm very sure it wasn't very much. I would give anything if I had saved them.
Our lives went on as usual, except we had to walk the two miles to Jarbidge to school and back each day. And for little children that was a long walk. Winter was hard and we had to leave early. We walked on the crust of the snow when possible. When we arrived at school, the teacher would let us warm our hands by the pot-bellied stove. Looking back, I think it helped shape our lives and we knew you had to do the very best you could.
My saddest memory was when the doctor finally decided that Dad's illness was due to miner's consumption and he said you must leave and get out into the fresh air. This was in 1924. I think it was about late August or September. We packed up and left for Twin Falls. Dad never complained about his illness or discussed it in front of we children. I do remember it was a hard change for a man that loved mining. It meant a new job, new schools and illness to deal with.
After a few months in Twin Falls, we moved to an acreage in Gooding, Idaho. My mother loved working in the earth and Dad later became the water master in town. He regained his health being in the outdoors, but later returned to Boise and finally back to the mining country above Boise and Centerville where his youth started.
In Jarbidge, all books were furnished, all papers and pencils. Moving back to Idaho, all school supplies had to be paid for. That was quite a shock. What I have recorded was the happiest days of my life and my sister Lillian, who is now 85 and will be 86 in June. My brother John was diagnosed with cancer and given one month to live. he died September the 20th in St. George, Utah, almost to the day. I regret that we didn't have time to recall life in Jarbidge. It sounded like I said "Jarbridge", but I certainly didn't mean it that way. Jarbidge has always been the way it was pronounced.
Jarbidge set the pattern for our lives to come. Loyalty to friends, helping those who needed help, and most of all, always speaking the truth. Until you walk in someone else's shoes, you cannot know what they are going through. Before my brother died, just a few months ago, he had written down a few things that he wanted to leave behind and this was just before he entered the hospital, about four weeks before he actually died in 1998. He said, "Believe in the Supreme Being, have faith eternal, use judgement in all acts, idleness breeds contempt, work first and play second, be tolerant and understanding in relating to people. Accept people as they are in all social situations, show appreciation, actions speak louder than words, and you learn from your mistakes."
I'll never forget Jarbidge, the happiest days of my life. I have met people since we moved from Incline Village, Nevada to Reno. When they heard that I had lived in Jarbidge, they said, "Oh, wait till I tell my family. We spend summers up there or at least our vacation and they won't believe that I have actually talked to somebody who lived there as a child." So, of course, I'm always happy to tell them about it and one of these days I hope to go back and see Jarbidge again.
God bless.
