One day, our daughter, Bailee, crawled beneath that vanity, likely with a screwdriver in hand, hoping to disassemble one more thing. (She had already loosened the bolts holding our “farm house” kitchen table together along with every screw in the house she could reach). Beneath the vanity, wedged in an area above one of the drawers was an interesting find. Had the vanity not been in use, had my “Curious George” daughter not been searching every nook and cranny, and had, as usual, every drawer she could find not been pulled open, her discovery may have gone unnoticed to this day. The vanity sat with several other turn-of-the-century pieces that served as our bedroom set for years and, when we moved east for work, the vanity eventually landed in Madison’s bedroom on the second floor of a farm house in which we lived, in Damascus, Montgomery County, Maryland. As for Bailee’s find, that is the real story.
The Little Black V8 Book
Somewhere along the line, the negative of that 1937 photograph surfaced. Soon everyone in the family had a long narrow "Panaram" print of the farmhouse. We would strain to see the people in the photo; someone by the tractor, another amid the cows on the far right, and how the otherwise straight drive into the farm bent across the bottom of the picture.
The photo features left to right (based on Grandpa's notes on the back of one of the picture prints), Harold's 1935 Ford, George's Dodge (193?), the farmhouse, a circa 1930 ford Model A Tudor, the dairy parlor and barn, located just a few hundred feet north of State Highway 89 at 1000 West State Road in Pleasant Grove, Utah. In the foreground of this photo is Harold Thomas Peay in front of a 1937 Ford Panel Truck with the words, "PEAY DAIRY Milk and Cream" painted on the side. Also in the foreground is Great Grandpa George B. Peay. Arthur Joy Woodworth (Ruth's husband) can be seen in the back, over George's shoulder, by the tractor. Elbert McKell "Mac" Williams (Anna Eliza Williams Peay's older brother) is at the far right edge of the barn. The cows appear to be Jerseys though I am not sure.For as long as I can remember, the times spend at 676 Milton Avenue were a child’s dream; running downstairs to get the two gallon jug of ice cream from the chest freezer, the gadgets grandpa made, watching as Tinkerbelle turned the black and white TV screen into living color. Life was simpler then, and Grandpa made it more so. Having had his right arm amputated just below the shoulder in 1963 as the result of spreading cancer; Harold Thomas Peay (my grandpa) spent much of his life figuring out how to do things more easily. Sometimes that involved a much more complicated solution, but that was the fun part. He refined fishing for trout to both and art and a science. And if something was broken, he fixed it. The few times he did need help doing something usually ended with him showing us how it was done. The memories of that time are so many, that a lifetime of writing would never do them justice.
I inherited from Grandpa an insatiable curiosity of how things work, along with some of his knack for all things mechanical. Grandpa recognized that in me, and when the time came to distribute his worldly possessions, I was given a small wooden box. Not one of the many ornate and beautiful pieces of woodwork he had created on his wood lathe; just a box. A box filled with dirty oil for that matter. To most anyone else, that is all it was, or ever would be. To me, it was fascinating… a masterpiece of forethought. In my hand I found a piece of history. You see, when Henry Ford needed an inexpensive way to manufacture an automobile the people making them could afford, the engineers used what they had to accomplish the tasks at hand. In this case it was an ignition coil; two simple windings of copper wire encased in a wooden box filled with oil to keep it cool and dry. With the right wires attached, and the rest of the pieces in place, this box would send a high voltage spark to the engine, igniting the fuel that powered Henry Ford's early Model-Ts. That was the way Grandpa was; that was the way his generation thought. Grandpa seemed as impressed that I knew that it was an ignition coil and how it worked, as I was that he thought to give it to me.
This brings me to the next part of my story. Grandpa once told me how a man came to the dairy one day to take a picture of the farm. Based on the white shirts and ties, I have to assume they new before hand that the photographer was coming. He pounded a stake into the top of a fencepost directly across from the parlor and mounted the camera. As it was the only readily available camera at the time that could take pictures with a view angle greater than 120 degrees, the camera was likely a clockwork-slit No. 5 Cirkut Camera patented by Eastman Kodak, Co.; this photo is nearly 180 degrees. It also matches the size of the picture and the negative. I am certainly grateful they had the foresight to buy it. (If anyone knows the whereabouts of this negative or an original Peay Dairy bottle, let me know).
I inherited from Grandpa an insatiable curiosity of how things work, along with some of his knack for all things mechanical. Grandpa recognized that in me, and when the time came to distribute his worldly possessions, I was given a small wooden box. Not one of the many ornate and beautiful pieces of woodwork he had created on his wood lathe; just a box. A box filled with dirty oil for that matter. To most anyone else, that is all it was, or ever would be. To me, it was fascinating… a masterpiece of forethought. In my hand I found a piece of history. You see, when Henry Ford needed an inexpensive way to manufacture an automobile the people making them could afford, the engineers used what they had to accomplish the tasks at hand. In this case it was an ignition coil; two simple windings of copper wire encased in a wooden box filled with oil to keep it cool and dry. With the right wires attached, and the rest of the pieces in place, this box would send a high voltage spark to the engine, igniting the fuel that powered Henry Ford's early Model-Ts. That was the way Grandpa was; that was the way his generation thought. Grandpa seemed as impressed that I knew that it was an ignition coil and how it worked, as I was that he thought to give it to me.
This brings me to the next part of my story. Grandpa once told me how a man came to the dairy one day to take a picture of the farm. Based on the white shirts and ties, I have to assume they new before hand that the photographer was coming. He pounded a stake into the top of a fencepost directly across from the parlor and mounted the camera. As it was the only readily available camera at the time that could take pictures with a view angle greater than 120 degrees, the camera was likely a clockwork-slit No. 5 Cirkut Camera patented by Eastman Kodak, Co.; this photo is nearly 180 degrees. It also matches the size of the picture and the negative. I am certainly grateful they had the foresight to buy it. (If anyone knows the whereabouts of this negative or an original Peay Dairy bottle, let me know).
 |
| Thanks Sandie |
Somewhere along the line, the negative of that 1937 photograph surfaced. Soon everyone in the family had a long narrow "Panaram" print of the farmhouse. We would strain to see the people in the photo; someone by the tractor, another amid the cows on the far right, and how the otherwise straight drive into the farm bent across the bottom of the picture.
 |
| The Peay Dairy Farm - circa 1937 - 1200dpi scan of a 5 inch x 22 inch print |
Grandpa loved to tell the story of his trip to the Ford plant in Dearborn Michigan. He told of how it was cheaper to pick the truck up at the Ford factory then is was to pay the shipping charges to the Ford dealer in American Fork, Utah. “Mom packed me a sack full of sandwiches, I took a night roll, and jumped on the Greyhound for Detroit”, He said. To hear him tell it, was so matter of fact that any other way would have been ridiculous. He made it sound like he was running to town for a new pair of overalls. But, for the son of a small town dairy farmer from the relative obscurity of Pleasant Grove, Utah, to drop himself in the middle of the one and a half million people who had flocked to Detroit for jobs making cars, it was nothing less than amazing. But that was the way grandpa was. Well, for me to go on would detract from each of our own versions of the story, as told to us by an incredible man with a mind as sharp as a tack, even at ninety years young.
Needless to say, Bailee’s discovery brought it all back to life. Now years later, I have rediscovered that find… a small black book with a few little jots… much like my small box of oil. Not a big deal to some, nothing more than an interesting footnote of the time. Yet to fate, lies the gift that must be shared with all who knew him. You see, that book, a Ford dealer’s giveaway, picked up by a Utah dairy farmer's son on his way to Detroit, holds secrets untold. It was a simple little log book to be placed in the “glove compartment” with the Ford Reference Book that would be waiting for him in Dearborn. As you browse these pages, read between the lines... the stories, the character, the history of our family... enjoy.
To begin with, a larger image of each scan can be viewed by clicking on the image. The original scans are 1600dpi Jpeg files. If anyone would like the original book, they can come to Maryland and try to take it from me. You can stay at my house, look at the book, I'll even take you on a tour of Washington, D.C., Gettysburg, or the Baltimore inner harbor, just don't try to leave with the book.
As best I can tell, the book was given to Grandpa before he left Pleasant Grove to retrieve the Pannell [sic] from Detroit. He told me he took the Greyhound Bus, but it doesn't say that here. Telling from the entries on later pages, he left for Detroit on 6 April, 1937, so he likely received the book shortly before that.
Notice the address, or lack of address, and the telephone number. I like the populations listed here. Salt Lake City was a booming metropolis of 140,267! There is a phone number, 3-5711 extension 7, written at the top of the top of the "HELPFUL HINTS" page. It looks like the number to the bakery he ended up working at, Continental Bakery. This could be the first time he was ever given the number.
The leaf opposite "FORD FACTS" has the prices of Hostess products and the date 1945. I know my dad (Morris) was twelve when they moved to Salt Lake City and Grandpa took the Hostess Job. Dad was born 14 February 1933 so 1945 would have been when grandpa started. Knowing Grandpa, he had the prices memorized before his first stop.
The next entry is a list; nail file, coal bucket, file case, xmas tree light globe, hair bow holder, barrett for hair, button, token, compact, overall bucket. That page and the opposite leaf start a list of addresses and prices! This is getting good!
Flip the page and behold, 676 Milton Avenue. There are no addresses after that so he must have liked it on first sight.
Looks like 1947 brought Hostess fruit cakes with a 74 cent markup and a list of possible sales for next year! The opposite page lists some potential clients? This is interesting considering names and the era... post World War II.
What... a blank page? I'm sure if Grandpa realized there was a blank page he would have used it. Come to think of it, he was likely just planning ahead in case he needed the space.
This and the next side of the leaf have the requirements for a chauffeur's license.
Now we get to my favorite part, The next few pages hold details of the legendary road trip to Michigan. When I first looked at these pages, I imagined a 28 year old Harold Peay and I though of the time; post depression America. I thought of how as a young boy, he had pulled a wagon along the outside bend of the railroad tracks that ran along the state road, gathering coal.
Grandpa told of how the gypsies would sneak into the train yard and place lumps of coal on the top edges of the coal cars. As the trains made the first turn after having left the train yard, the precariously placed lumps of coal would fall to the ground. The waiting gypsies would quickly gather their booty. When Grandpa and his brothers were certain the gypsies were gone, they would take their wagon and gather the remaining small fragments of coal to heat the farmhouse.
He told of the times his dad would be gone for long periods of time, to travel to Salt Lake City, or wherever there was work, to supplement the income of the farm. He told of a man, I don't recall his name, that helped them when things were tight, giving them food and sometimes money. I think of the hardships the people of that time endured and how blessed we are now. I thought of how, like those opportunistically placed lumps of coal, Grandpa headed out of the yard, hoping not to fall.
Looking at the map of the western US, you can see where Grandpa began marking the towns he stopped at during the trip to Detroit. There is also some markings along the Columbia River Gorge between Washington and Oregon.
The path to Detroit continues on the next page but his markings do not. I'm sure as he neared his destination the new surroundings kept him occupied.
It looks like the journey began on Monday, I would guess Monday morning from Pleasant Grove, then leave Salt Lake to be in Laramie, Wyoming for breakfast.
His entries began on Tuesday the sixth day of April, 1937. He had breakfast in Laramie, Wioming [sic] then on to Cheyenne, Wyoming then Sidney, Nebraska for dinner. He ate Supper in Kearny, Nebraska. My family and I actually stopped in Kearny on December 18, 2005 to celebrate my daughter Madison’s birthday while en route to Salt Lake City form Maryland. Supper was slightly more than 35 cents for us. Look at the entries! Six cent car fare to Ford, lunch at Ford 25 cents.
The stops tally each expense. $6.01 from this page, $3.71 from the previous. $18.91 for gas and oil. What is the $2.40 and the $24.00 for? Fifty-five dollars and three cents, I wonder how much he saved?
The rest of the pages appear to be his client list, see if you recognize any of the addresses.
Well, I hope you all enjoy this as much as I have. My next entry will revel the secret treasure I found INSIDE the little black log book...
Needless to say, Bailee’s discovery brought it all back to life. Now years later, I have rediscovered that find… a small black book with a few little jots… much like my small box of oil. Not a big deal to some, nothing more than an interesting footnote of the time. Yet to fate, lies the gift that must be shared with all who knew him. You see, that book, a Ford dealer’s giveaway, picked up by a Utah dairy farmer's son on his way to Detroit, holds secrets untold. It was a simple little log book to be placed in the “glove compartment” with the Ford Reference Book that would be waiting for him in Dearborn. As you browse these pages, read between the lines... the stories, the character, the history of our family... enjoy.
To begin with, a larger image of each scan can be viewed by clicking on the image. The original scans are 1600dpi Jpeg files. If anyone would like the original book, they can come to Maryland and try to take it from me. You can stay at my house, look at the book, I'll even take you on a tour of Washington, D.C., Gettysburg, or the Baltimore inner harbor, just don't try to leave with the book.
As best I can tell, the book was given to Grandpa before he left Pleasant Grove to retrieve the Pannell [sic] from Detroit. He told me he took the Greyhound Bus, but it doesn't say that here. Telling from the entries on later pages, he left for Detroit on 6 April, 1937, so he likely received the book shortly before that. |
| Continental Bakery 3-5711 |
Notice the address, or lack of address, and the telephone number. I like the populations listed here. Salt Lake City was a booming metropolis of 140,267! There is a phone number, 3-5711 extension 7, written at the top of the top of the "HELPFUL HINTS" page. It looks like the number to the bakery he ended up working at, Continental Bakery. This could be the first time he was ever given the number.
The leaf opposite "FORD FACTS" has the prices of Hostess products and the date 1945. I know my dad (Morris) was twelve when they moved to Salt Lake City and Grandpa took the Hostess Job. Dad was born 14 February 1933 so 1945 would have been when grandpa started. Knowing Grandpa, he had the prices memorized before his first stop.
The next entry is a list; nail file, coal bucket, file case, xmas tree light globe, hair bow holder, barrett for hair, button, token, compact, overall bucket. That page and the opposite leaf start a list of addresses and prices! This is getting good!
 |
| 676 Milton Avenue |
Flip the page and behold, 676 Milton Avenue. There are no addresses after that so he must have liked it on first sight.
Looks like 1947 brought Hostess fruit cakes with a 74 cent markup and a list of possible sales for next year! The opposite page lists some potential clients? This is interesting considering names and the era... post World War II.
What... a blank page? I'm sure if Grandpa realized there was a blank page he would have used it. Come to think of it, he was likely just planning ahead in case he needed the space.
This and the next side of the leaf have the requirements for a chauffeur's license.
Now we get to my favorite part, The next few pages hold details of the legendary road trip to Michigan. When I first looked at these pages, I imagined a 28 year old Harold Peay and I though of the time; post depression America. I thought of how as a young boy, he had pulled a wagon along the outside bend of the railroad tracks that ran along the state road, gathering coal.Grandpa told of how the gypsies would sneak into the train yard and place lumps of coal on the top edges of the coal cars. As the trains made the first turn after having left the train yard, the precariously placed lumps of coal would fall to the ground. The waiting gypsies would quickly gather their booty. When Grandpa and his brothers were certain the gypsies were gone, they would take their wagon and gather the remaining small fragments of coal to heat the farmhouse.
He told of the times his dad would be gone for long periods of time, to travel to Salt Lake City, or wherever there was work, to supplement the income of the farm. He told of a man, I don't recall his name, that helped them when things were tight, giving them food and sometimes money. I think of the hardships the people of that time endured and how blessed we are now. I thought of how, like those opportunistically placed lumps of coal, Grandpa headed out of the yard, hoping not to fall.Looking at the map of the western US, you can see where Grandpa began marking the towns he stopped at during the trip to Detroit. There is also some markings along the Columbia River Gorge between Washington and Oregon.
The path to Detroit continues on the next page but his markings do not. I'm sure as he neared his destination the new surroundings kept him occupied.
It looks like the journey began on Monday, I would guess Monday morning from Pleasant Grove, then leave Salt Lake to be in Laramie, Wyoming for breakfast.
His entries began on Tuesday the sixth day of April, 1937. He had breakfast in Laramie, Wioming [sic] then on to Cheyenne, Wyoming then Sidney, Nebraska for dinner. He ate Supper in Kearny, Nebraska. My family and I actually stopped in Kearny on December 18, 2005 to celebrate my daughter Madison’s birthday while en route to Salt Lake City form Maryland. Supper was slightly more than 35 cents for us. Look at the entries! Six cent car fare to Ford, lunch at Ford 25 cents.
The stops tally each expense. $6.01 from this page, $3.71 from the previous. $18.91 for gas and oil. What is the $2.40 and the $24.00 for? Fifty-five dollars and three cents, I wonder how much he saved?
The rest of the pages appear to be his client list, see if you recognize any of the addresses.
Well, I hope you all enjoy this as much as I have. My next entry will revel the secret treasure I found INSIDE the little black log book...
Update... Here is a photo of the exact same spot, taken on 16 June 2021. Note that eighteen months ago, the dairy "parlor" structure was still standing. All gone now!
4 comments:
Dear Rick,
I don't know if you already know this, but the male standing back in the distance next to the barn, it is hard to make him out. He is a little old man that lived in our ward when we lived in Pleasant Grove. His name was Mack Williams, Gary has known him all his life and one day when grandpa was visiting we drove by Mack's house and he was out front picking up apples.
Grandpa yelled, "stop the car I have to talk to that guy", so we did. It was the cutest thing, apparently Mack worked for the dairy. We went into his house to visit and they talked about old times. Mack said he never thought he would have seen grandpa again in his life time since they were both so old. Mack had that same print in his home and when Gary asked him why he explained that he was in the picture and was given a copy. Mack has since died, but it was a fun day for all of us, we laugh often about that day. There grandpa was in his golf shirt and loafers and Mack wearing coveralls and old farming clothes. I didn't mention Keith was the one driving us around for Grandpa to show us different people and who lived where etc... fun day!
Love Ya, Linda
(I posted this from an email from Linda)
rick
I love the log! I found a diary Grandpa wrote when they were in Needles. It had the weather for each day. Visitors that came. Fish caught and of course money spent for each day.It was so fun to read through. Thanks for sharing this with all of us. I love and miss you all
Kristi
Hello Rick,
I am your cousin Debbie's youngest daughter, Jessie. She emailed me the link to your blog. It was so fun to see all of this stuff and to read your stories about Grandpa.
My favorite things about him were his little inventions and refusal to throw anything away. I still remember when he got a new shoe upper put on the old sole that was "still good", the homemade card holders he had so we could play crazy rummy, the card shuffler he repaired with a rubber band and the mechanism he made for his fishing rod so he could do it with one arm.
I hope someday I will be excited enough to squeeze the living daylights out of my grandkids when they come to see me, just like Grandpa.
This is amazing and cool! So neat to read!
Vicki M
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