A FOGGY DAY

In this vignette I recall working and living in Northern California. 02/29/2016

A FOGGY DAY

   The idea of moving from metropolitan New York to the Golden State appealed to me on many levels. It could kick-start my life, which seemed stuck in neutral. The aftershocks of the major earthquake that rattled the twin cities of Eureka/Arcata soon after my arrival made me sit up and notice how drastically my life had changed.

 Eb Brazelton, his wife, Jobie, and their adorable toy poodle, Character, had preceded me to this area. They lived in a trailer park. Another early arrival was Maurice Tarplee, his wife, Marie, and their two daughters. They lived in a beautiful home, which they probably rented. During the 1954 Christmas season, they treated me like kin.

   Here I am, playing pattycakes with one of Tarplee's daughters, smiling at his yonger one. Tarplee sits on the floor, talking shop with Ed Carlson, the mill manager.

My first two weeks were spent looking for a furnished apartment.  Pickings were slim but one had possibilities. It consisted of one large room furnished with a sleeper-couch and other living room furniture plus a kitchen and bath.

I asked the elderly widowed landlady, “How much do you want for the place?”

“The rent is seventy five dollars a month.

“I’ll take it.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from the New York City area.”

“In that case, I’ll only charge you sixty-five dollars. You'll have the heat on all the time and will need the money to pay your electric bill." She had that right. The climate left me cold all the time and I always had to turn up the thermostat at night.

The Eureka/Arcata area is not only a long way from New York City in every sense, it is equally remote from other parts of California. The two cities, seven miles apart, are three hundred miles north of San Francisco and ninety mile south of the Oregon border, with not much in between. Coastal fog frequently obscured long stretches of the two-lane highway heading north or south. The residents bragged that during WW II the army used the Eureka airport to test various methods of dispersing fog. The cold Pacific Ocean provided an endless supply of the stuff.   

I did not enjoy living there. Daytime temperatures were usually in the low sixties, nighttime some ten or more degree's cooler. Fog or mist prevailed during the early morning or late evening hours.  Overcast skies gloomily covered the entire area during the daylight hours causing many people to experience depression. On weekends, many locals would drive to Santa Rosa to escape the dreary environment in search of sunshine.

My working conditions were pleasant. FWC rented office space on the top floor of a two-story commercial building in Arcata, above a hardware store. 

FWC occupied the second floor of this building in Arcata, California.

Here, Tarplee, Brazelton and others worked to complete the redesign of the company’s redwood cooling towers. I continued to act as the contract administrator while assuming the purchasing function previously handled by the New York office. The company authorized the addition of an office clerk to assist me.

Eb Brazelton said, “Joe, you ought to interview my trailer park neighbor. He could use a job and would be a great addition to the staff.”

Enter Fred King, a 6'-3", 225-pound, twenty-year-old Adonis who had suffered a head injury while playing football for Southern California, resulting in the loss of his athletic scholarship.  His physique did not seem to match that of an office clerk, but not wishing to disappoint Eb, I hired him.

Fred turned out to be an amazing person. He eagerly sopped up all I could teach him. His capacity to absorb information astounded me. In no time, he not only mastered his clerical duties but grasped the heat engineering principles involved in cooling tower design as well. In August, Fred accepted an offer to move to San Mateo with his wife and daughter when the company closed its Arcata office. Once there, he started taking night classes and earned an accounting degree.  Hard strapped for dough to pay his tuition, he asked me for a loan. Angie frowned on this idea. In retrospect, I always regretted this decision.  You see, in time he went into the printed circuit business and made a fortune. A lifelong resident of Arcata, the fog there had not clouded his vision.

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