Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth
Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth
Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth
Ebook562 pages7 hours

Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

5/5

()

Read preview

About this ebook

It's an epic period of American history - the building of the Hoover Dam. See life through the eyes of folks from all walks of life who built the Dam; travel 21 miles on Death's Highway, to Sin City, Las Vegas where legal gambling, whorehouses and cold beer await.

Building the Hoover Dam led America and the world out of the Great Depression. Seemingly foreshadowed with the death of worker John G. Tierney from the beginning, it end with the death ofPatrick W. Tierney, thirteen years to the day in the same river. From Theodore Roosevelt to Franklin Roosevelt, seven American Presidents were personally involved in the building of the Dam. Larger than the Pyramids, more complex than the Great Wall of China, the Hoover Dam helped populate the western United States. America became the bread basket of the world. This dam controls floods and drought in seven states, provides electricity, fresh drinking water to irrigate 1/4 million square miles of new farm land. The weight of the water behind the dam moved planet earth a fraction out of balance.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDov Silverman
Release dateFeb 3, 2014
ISBN9781311183064
Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth
Author

Dov Silverman

Born in Brooklyn, New York, Dov Silverman has served as a U.S. Marine in the Korean War, worked as a Long Island railroad conductor, been an auctioneer, and even established the Autar Microfilm Service. While working so hard on the railroad, he earned his high school diploma and went on to graduate from Stony Brook University, Long Island, New York, cum laude, at the age of 39. He and his family settled in Safed, Israel in 1972. He credits a spiritual meeting with God and a Tzaddik (righteous man), Jules Rubinstein, in the Brentwood (New York) Jewish Center, with setting him on the path of study, religious involvement and settlement in Israel. His novel, FALL OF THE SHOGUN, appeared on the London Times Best-Seller List and has been published in multiple languages. He also won a 1988 Suntory Mystery Fiction Award, Japan, for REVENGE OF THE GOOD SHEPHERDS.

Read more from Dov Silverman

Related to Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth

Related ebooks

Historical Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
5/5

1 rating0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Frank Crowe, The Dam Builder Who Changed the Face of the Earth - Dov Silverman

    CHAPTER 1

    GO WEST YOUNG MAN

    May 18th 1902:

    Steam hissed, the fire door clanged shut on glowing coals in the fire box and the steam engine and the train rolled to a stop. Frank Crowe shook hands with the engineer and fireman, thanked them and climbed down from the engine to the platform in front of the sign, Billings, Montana. Pop. 1,236.

    A young man about his own age extended a hand to Frank. You must be Crowe? They said to look for the tallest fella getting off the train. How big are you?

    Six foot three inches.

    "You're probably the tallest man in the state. I'm manager of the Federal Reclamation Office here in Billings. I'll set you up for your trip to the dam site.

    Why so many old abandoned buildings in this town?

    "Billings was a boom town during the Gold Rush of 1862. Nine hundred houses and stores went up in six months. Three years later, the gold petered out, and people too. Some farmers, sheep-herders and cattlemen remained. Most live out of town on their spreads.

    The manager led Frank to the General Store where he recommended the purchase of canvas riding breeches, tall leather-laced boots, a high collared, fleece lined jacket and what was to become Frank Crowe's most treasured possession, a large white Stetson hat. His childhood dreams of being a cowboy were coming true. The Reclamation Department supplied a horse, saddle, two pack mules and a Winchester repeating rifle.

    You're welcome to sleep in my office and make Sunday Church tomorrow, the manager said.

    Is the rifle for protection against Indians?

    I forgot you're on student's vacation from the University in Maine. Don't worry about Indians. It's the white men who'll kill you for that jacket or the boots. Only make friends on the trail with those that got a house. If you sleep out, put up a large fire and hobble the animals. Cougar and wolves, you know. You got a skinning knife?

    No.

    Varmint pelts bring ten dollars each.

    We had wolves around the house in Maine. I scared them off. How do I get to the work site?

    Follow the road west from town to the ranch of Lady Evelyn Cameron, the manager said. Her ranch borders the Yellowstone River. If you get wet, you passed it. She's a titled English Lady. Her husband was a Lord, but he passed on. Look in to see if she's alright.

    I'd like to start now.

    Follow me. The manager shrugged. It'll be two months before you see civilization again.

    Frank Crowe's mules were loaded with food for himself, equipment, mail and maps for the construction crew. The sky was clear and the air sweet with the scent of juniper and pine. He lengthened the stirrups and cinched his horse. The white-faced mare looked at him as if to say, Let's go! Frank grabbed the large western saddle horn and swung himself up. With the pack animals in tow, he headed west out of Billings.

    Try as he might to remain alert, his life-long dreams of the West were no competition for the reality of rolling landscape, tall trees and snow-capped Rocky Mountains. Only 40 years ago Grasshopper, Alder Gulch and Last Chance were boom towns and part of the Gold Rush stories he'd read. Soon he'd be passing them. Stories of the Bozeman Trail, Custer's Last Stand at the Little Big Horn, the Sioux, Shoshone and Crow Indians, Jim Bridger and the Mountain Men filled his mind and swelled his heart.

    Yaahooo! Frank shouted, frightening the pack animals. It's alright, boys, he said to the animals, I'm just happy to be home! He passed vast areas timbered with Cottonwood and Juniper. The grass land looked tame and fertile, ready for use as pasture or farm. The undulating hills were covered with Chokecherry, Plum, Box elder and trees unfamiliar to Frank. From the slope of the land he knew he was descending toward the Yellowstone River.

    He sang with gusto, I ride an old horse; I ride an old paint, I'm going to Montana to see my Julie Ann! The horse snickered and shook his head. Frank looked back at the mules, their ears were flattened and their wide eyes pleaded.

    They wouldn't let me in the Campus Glee Club, Frank said, but you guys work for me and got to listen. He sang,

    There's peace in the valley, there's water in the draw,

    The cows are not thirsty, they're running no more.

    Singing Ki Yi Yippee! Yippee Yay! Yippee Yay!"

    Several trails led off the main road but he saw neither houses nor travellers. At noon, he stopped at an abandoned structure made of V-notched logs. Its roof was of peeled poles laid side by side and covered with sod in which an abandoned herb garden struggled with the weeds. Inside, what had once been white muslin was stretched across the log walls to give an impression of plaster. A stream ran close by where he washed and ate a cold lunch.

    At three in the afternoon, he sighted smoke rising lazily into the clear blue sky. The house stood on a rise overlooking the winding Yellowstone River. This home was made of stone and proper wood planks with a peaked, cedar shingled roof, two barns, freshly whitewashed out buildings, a corral and a smithy forge. The farm animals were fat and sleek. The yard well-kept with a kitchen garden in the back and five acres beyond under cultivation with corn, fruit trees and vegetables. To the north was a large pond with two feeder springs, one partially blocked by a beaver dam. Wild ducks paddled across the smooth water. On the southern end of the pond were two gates guarding irrigating ditches for the orchard and the larger grain field below.

    Frank tethered the animals at the hitching post and approached the open door of the house. Hello inside? He called.

    Hello yourself! The woman who answered was bent over a large blob of dough in a wooden tub. She punched it down with her tiny fists. She was dark from the wind and sun, wore a long grey dress buttoned at the neck, an apron, and a ribbon meant to keep her hair back but had come loose. She brushed hair from her eyes with the back of her wrist. Don't just stand there, she said. Come in.

    I was told to ask for Lady Evelyn Cameron.

    And who are you?

    Frank Crowe of the Reclamation Department.

    The woman punched the dough. I was told you'd be here about the first of June.

    I thought to make a good impression and get to work early.

    The size of you will impress them. You know how to punch down batter?

    Yes, Ma'am. But I'd like to pay my compliments to Lady Cameron

    The boys are always playing the same joke on new fellows. They didn't tell you that I don't look like a proper English lady.

    You are she?

    In England we use the word ‘she' to refer to a cat's mother.

    In Canada too. I apologize.

    You punch the dough and I'll start dinner. Tell me about Maine and Canada. How did you get from there to here?

    Lady Cameron?

    Call me Eve, everyone does.

    I was warned against bandits, yet your door is open and I see no men on the property.

    The men are rounding up livestock for a drive to the railhead. Anyone who hurt me would be hunted down and killed. My hospitality is known to all and given to all. When you're done hitting the dough, bring two buckets of water from the pump to the kitchen.

    Have you ever seen a hand pump inside the kitchen?

    I've heard of them.

    This is a beautiful house and an indoor pump would save time and look good in the kitchen sink.

    You passed a log cabin on the way. That was our first home. The wheels of progress are turning, even here in Montana.

    It's beautiful country.

    Are you Southern Baptist?

    Methodist.

    Will you join me in a before dinner aperitif?

    That will be most welcome.

    Not married, are you?

    No.

    Have to find a young lady tall enough for you.

    At dinner, Lady Eve Cameron introduced Frank to the men who returned from working the cattle. You certainly know how to punch down dough, she said to Frank. This bread is delicious.

    My grandmother taught me. She and my grandfather raised me.

    What happened to your parents?

    Mom died of influenza when I was five. Dad manages factories. That's how we came to live in the States. We were in New York for several years and then in Massachusetts until I went to College at Orono, Maine.

    Why there?

    I had a great teacher in New York. She encouraged me to follow my dream of becoming an engineer. She sent my 11th grade term paper to several Universities. By the time they answered, my father was transferred to Brookline Massachusetts.

    What was the subject of your paper? Eve asked.

    The Influence of the Otis Elevator on building in New York City. My teacher was most interested in the College of Maine. Maine recently separated from Massachusetts as a new state in the Union, and established a College at Orono. It featured Civil and Mechanical Engineering. I was lucky enough to be accepted."

    How does a farm boy brought up in Ontario get to dream about building dams and elevators?

    It was the beavers, he said. Like the ones who dammed your feeder stream to the pond. If you want, I can clear it.

    No, thank you, I've become found of Beatrice and her brood.

    Frank laughed, That's what happened to me. Grandpa explained how beaver's dam up streams and the other animals and fish benefit from it. I watched them and then irrigated my grandfather's farm from their large pond.

    How old were you?

    Ten. I made a pet of one beaver. Called him Bucky.

    Was he house broken?

    No. Frank laughed. Bucky the beaver broke up the house. We woke one morning to find he chewed the legs off half the chairs and the kitchen table.

    What did your grandparents say to that?

    They sent Bucky back to the dam and me to the barn for a week.

    Do you always hesitate before speaking? Eve asked.

    Grandpa told me to always think three seconds about what I wanted to say before saying it.

    Your grandparents were a strong influence on you.

    They're both gone now. Died in the flu epidemic three years ago.

    How did you get a position on the Federal Dam Project at Arrow rock?

    John Wesley Powell.

    Well, Eve said, how did you come to meet one of America's greatest explorers?

    He moved near the college and gave a lecture on the national laws regarding Water Rights. I answered one of his questions and he took an interest in me.

    That must have been some answer to gain Professor Powell's attention.

    In fact, Professor Powell made a joke saying it was a rhetorical question because no one but himself knew the answer. It had to do with Thomas Jefferson's Water Rights law drawn up for the colonies in the east and applied to the newly open western territories. Frank Crowe's brow furrowed and as he spoke looking at Lady Cameron she knew he didn't see her but he saw the map of the United States when he said,. The usage of land for production and the water needs are far different here in the west.

    No wonder Professor Davis took an interest in you.

    He passed on my name to his nephew Arthur Powell Davis who is the Regional Supervisor for the Western District Reclamation Department.

    And Arthur Powell Davis gave you a summer internship. Have you ever met him?

    No, Ma'am.

    You're in for an experience. He stopped by on his way to the Arrow rock Dam site. He has his uncle's determination to provide water to open new farm and grazing land in the entire southwest. You know his uncle passed on?

    Yes, Frank said.

    He was another great American who could see tomorrow before others. I hope you justify his confidence.

    To do that, I must be up early.

    I had the boys make up a special long bed in the bunkhouse.

    CHAPTER 2

    LAS VEGAS

    September 20th 1902:

    Four months later Frank Crowe returned to Orono College, Maine, 15 pounds lighter, broader in the shoulders, and with the rolling gait of a horseman. He had his Stetson hat blocked, cleaned and boxed for his return to the west next summer. In the middle of Frank's sophomore year, his professors recognized such a dramatic improvement in his work they admitted him to the Engineering Honours Class. He continued playing football was active in fraternities Sigma Alpha Epsilon and Tau Beta Pi and maintained a correspondence with Arthur Powell Davis, now the Superintendent of all Reclamation projects west of the Mississippi.

    "From the desk of Arthur Powell Davis: May 15, 1904

    Dear Frank,

    The assessment of those you worked with along the Yellowstone River is positive. Your assignment in Montana and future projects for the Reclamation Department are to prepare you and a few chosen others to fulfil my late uncle's dream. My uncle shared his dream with President Teddy Roosevelt, of damming the mighty Colorado River at Boulder Canyon. This Herculean task may not be accomplished in my life time or yours, but it must be done in order to inhabit the west. Large population centers are required to counter Mexico's desire to reclaim the lands she lost in war fifty years ago. Without sufficient water, no substantial community can exist in the southwest. At this time, the largest communities are those involved in mining. Not one exceeds ten thousand people. This area of the west, if serviced by flood regulation and water preservation, can become the bread-basket of America, a haven for farmers, cattlemen and sheep-herders.

    I started you on the Yellowstone River because the Arrow rock Dam will be built there. It will be the tallest dam in the world. I want you to be part of that project. I'll take care of the politicians. This and other assignments are dress rehearsals for the Boulder Dam Project. It will necessitate a team of pioneering, innovative Dam builders to construct the mightiest Dam ever conceived. The Boulder Dam will prevent floods, supply water during droughts and produce cheap electricity for all. It is a work so colossal; historians will compare it to the Pyramids of Egypt and the Great Wall of China.

    Regarding your proposal for an onsite laboratory at major construction projects, we in the department disagree. It appears a duplication of work that cannot be justified by the expense. Our central laboratory in Ohio appears adequate and centrally located for all Reclamation works in the west. Do not be disheartened. I wish to hear more details on this and other novel thoughts you might have.

    Sincerely Arthur P. Davis,

    Superintendent,

    Reclamation Department,

    West of the Mississippi."

    Again Frank left college on the last day of June. He rode railroad engines and slept in hacks across the country to Billings, Montana. There he donned his Stetson, mounted a horse and, led three pack mules to the ranch of Lady Evelyn Cameron. She was delighted to see him. He presented her with an indoor water pump. She thanked him profusely and baked two apple pies for him to take on the trail. Frank enjoyed a wonderful evening. Early the next morning, he set out for the Arrow rock dam site; there he saw progress in every aspect of preparation for building the dam and anchoring its walls to the bottom and banks of the Yellow stone River. The river originates in the Absaroka Range on the Continental Divide in Wyoming. Not an exceptional powerful tributary, its seven hundred meandering miles could be dangerous when in flood or frozen over. The dam would help control this. There was not a rock in the river. Only sand, smooth river stones and mud covered the bottom. Along the banks and under the cliffs were bleached bones of the once prevalent buffalo that wandered in the millions across the Great Plains. These and other animals had been killed by bear and wolves or fell through the ice and drowned. Magpie, geese ducks and eagles in abundance nested along the banks of the Yellowstone. Frank kneed his horse onward anticipating the work and the summer months ahead.

    The following year, May 10th 1905, Frank left school without waiting for the College Commencement Exercise or his Engineering Diploma. At Lady Evelyn's home he was introduced to Marie Sass, a tall, beautiful girl of nineteen whose hair hung down in dark ringlets to her thin square shoulders.

    For the next five years Frank had three love affairs; his work, the West and Marie Sass. He married her in Billings on August 7th 1910. They spent a one month honeymoon crossing the United States by train.

    While visiting his father in Massachusetts, Frank received an urgent telegram from Arthur Powell Davis to meet him in the town of Las Vegas, Nevada. Frank left his young wife with his father and set out for the west.

    Las Vegas, September 1, 1910:

    In the Arizona Club, an older man, thin as a rail with bright blue eyes approached Frank's table and asked, How did you find your way to this restaurant?

    Railroad men taught me to eat at the busiest place in town.

    This place is busy because of the whores, booze and gambling. The food's okay.

    What about sleeping accommodations?

    Ask the bearded man at the desk for a room. He'll make you wait. Come back to the table. If you don't scratch, he'll call you.

    Why scratching?

    He doesn't allow those with bedbugs to sleep in his rooms. My name is Pop Squires. He offered his hand. I run the only newspaper in town.

    How's business?

    I think I'm the only one who can read. Oh, if you want a prostitute?

    No, thank you. Frank held out his ring finger. Married.

    Where you from?

    Back east.

    They got another outbreak of Flu.

    Not in our neck of the woods.

    Are you with the Reclamation Department?

    I thought I'd be the first to arrive?

    I interviewed Arthur Powell Davis yesterday. Knew his famous uncle. Are you really going to build a Dam in Boulder Canyon?

    That was his uncle's dream.

    There's the dream and there is reality. Temperature gets over 110 degrees in that canyon. In winter you'll have snow on top, ice and wind in the bottom. There's no drinkable water.

    What about the river?

    She's too thin to plow and too thick to drink. No self-respecting Indian lives along the banks of the Red Bull. Then there's political problems.

    I'd think they'd want a dam.

    They do, Pop Squires said. Each state, county and town wants a bigger part of the water rights than the others are willing to give. Clean water and flood control is the key to a half-million square miles of prime agricultural property in seven states. I call it the Colorado River Wars.

    Has there been shooting.

    Only between locals. The State Militias get called up from time to time but no outright battles. Secretary of the Interior Herbert Hoover is trying to negotiate an agreement. He's the right man for an impossible job.

    Arthur Powel Davis is my boss. What does he look like?

    About half your size and twice your presence. A bald, bullet head, bent nose, looks like he got muscles in his ears. Has sharp blue eyes that keep examining you. His starched collar is too tight and the bow-tie too small. Like a cougar in a suit. I thought he'd jump me any minute during the interview.

    Sounds impressive.

    He'd better be if he wants to build a dam in Boulder Canyon. Here comes Jake. Guess you'll get that room. If you want a bath, the barber shop down the street has a tub and water to fill it.

    Thank you.

    Pop Squires shook Frank's hand. How many years would it take to build a dam in Boulder Canyon? Fifteen, twenty?

    I have no idea, Frank answered.

    Will the Reclamation Department build it?

    We don't build. We oversee the work of private contractors.

    There's no contracting firm east or west of the Mississippi big enough to handle the job. Government's got to do it.

    Tomorrow morning Mr. Davis is taking us to Devil's Canyon.

    CHAPTER 3

    THE RED BULL

    As short as he was, when Arthur Powell Davis entered the dining room of the Arizona Club he wore it. Frank felt the electricity of the man moving towards him.

    I'd rather feed you than clothe you, the superintendent said. You're a tall drink of water. Have you met Walker Young yet?

    No, sir.

    He's supposed to be here.

    And I am, Mr. Davis. The young man who stepped forward was medium height, wore a common grey business suit and fedora. He offered his hand to Davis, then to Frank. He peered up at Frank through wire- frame spectacles. Walker's my first name, but people call me Brig.

    Is Brig short for Brigham? Davis asked.

    It is, but I'm no Mormon. I've had only one wife for ten years, and I'm partial to Bourbon whisky.

    You finished Idaho State College and worked summers for me while married? Davis asked.

    Yes, sir.

    You two young fellows are part of a team I'm putting together to build the biggest damned dam in history. Get to know each other while you buy three water bags. We'll have breakfast when you get back. Then we'll go rafting on the mighty Colorado River.

    Outside the Arizona Club, both young men shielded their eyes from the blazing sun. Frank put on his large white Stetson and Brig his grey felt fedora. They hopped off the wooden sidewalk into the dusty street, and waited for three wagons in tandem piled with lumber, pulled by a team of six mules, to pass. Flies were quick to cover the mule dung. People rode horses or donkeys. Some walked, leading pack animals.

    This town is only ten blocks square, Frank said.

    And half of them are filled with whorehouses, bars and gambling joints, Brig answered.

    What keeps the town in business?

    Water, the railroad and independent miners, Brig said. Las Vegas is an oasis surrounded by an unforgiving desert. The discovery of minerals, small amounts of gold and silver, brought the miners. They've been drifting in and out of here for decades. Five years ago the railroad linked California with Salt Lake City, Utah. Las Vegas became the ideal refuelling point and rest stop. The railroad owns the town and is the law. It owns the Arizona Club. Conductors direct passengers to gambling or drinking, and even delay the trains waiting for them to finish.

    How do you know so much about Las Vegas?

    Sat up most of the night with a bottle of bourbon and Pop Squires. He pumped me for information. I traded mine for his.

    What information can you have that would help a newspaperman.

    Look around you, Brig said. How many automobiles do you see?

    Five.

    "If Secretary of the Interior Herbert Hoover convinces Congress to set up an exploration of the Colorado River for purposes of flood and water control, one day you won't see a drop of horseshit in this street. There'll be autos.

    The price of land will go up, Frank said. So Pop Squires is a real-estate speculator.

    He wants to see the town progress, and if he can make a profit so can others.

    I guess we can buy water bags here? Frank said.

    Get anything you want. Brig pointed at a rough hand-painted sign.

    MINING EQUIPMENT, SEED, FEED, LEVIS.

    MORTICIAN SERVICES and SECOND HAND CLOTHES.

    What are you watching? Brig asked.

    That Chinese laundryman next-door, he's spitting on the clothes, then rubbing the spit in before he hot irons.

    He's getting the spots out. I've seen it done in Idaho.

    In the rear of an open-topped roadster, the three Reclamation Department men left the Arizona Club for their encounter with the Red Bull.

    I've been here before, Arthur Davis said. Was on my way to the Panama Canal Project when my uncle John Wesley Powell invited me out here. That day I inherited his belief that the Colorado River is the key to the future of the West. Uncle John lectured at engineering schools in America recruiting for the Reclamation Department. Others, like you two, have been mapping the mountains and surveying the watersheds from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico. Although you two haven't met before, you've been working opposite sides of the same river in Wyoming.

    When will Congress approve the Arrow rock Dam? Frank asked.

    They have. That's why I invited the two of you. At 350 feet, Arrow rock will be the tallest dam in the world. Frank, you're promoted to Assistant Superintendent of Works. Brig, you're Assistant Engineer for the Arrow rock Project. Many will say you're both too young. Prove them wrong.

    Dear Marie,

    September 2, 1910

    You are in my thoughts and I wish you were at my side so you could share in my happiness and the experiences of these last few days. On our way to the rafting site on the Colorado River I was promoted to Assistant Superintendent of Works at the Arrow rock Dam in Idaho. The man I'm to be partnered with is Brig Young, an engineer. He is a likeable character and was promoted on the same project. He and his family live in Boise, Idaho, about twenty minutes by car from the Arrow rock dam site. He has a house in mind for us. To look at Brig, you would think he's a store clerk or at best a bookkeeper. Yet he has the ring of steel in his voice and character. For Arthur Davis to promote him, Brig must be a very good engineer. Oh, Brig likes Bourbon whisky and can drink a quantity without showing ill effect. He drank Arthur Davis, myself and Murl Emery, the raft-man, to sleep, then tidied our camp site and tethered the raft for the night.

    "What a glorious passage we had. The raft was powered by two outboard motors and guided by large sweep oars fore and aft. With all that power we still could not chance going into mid-stream because the current there was too strong. Yet the river was not at flood stage. The canyon walls on either side are over a thousand feet high. Only here and there along the route are small narrow landing sites of gravel beach. When I asked how the river could cut through the solid rock of the mountains, Murl suggested I scoop up some water. My cupped hand filled with red sand and tinted water. He explained that in mid-channel the stronger current picks up gravel and rocks. He's seen large boulders being hurled out of the water in flood stage. This, he explained turned the river into a massive drilling tool blasting and grinding its way through the mountains for millions of years. The power of the Colorado River is awesome. One day Brig and I may have the privilege of harnessing her strength for the benefit of mankind.

    We visited five potential dam sites along the river. The best appear to be in Boulder and Black Canyon. Brig measured the temperature in Boulder Canyon at 105 degrees and in Black Canyon at 120 degrees. The black basalt rock reflects the heat and the dry afternoon wind sucks the moisture from your body. At both sites, the canyon walls are over a thousand feet high. This height is required and within our preliminary calculations. The problem is we do not know how deep the sediment of mud, gravel and rocks in the river bed is. We will eventually have to trick the river to clean the bottom and build the dam's foundation. Brig says the river can be diverted by tunnelling on either side. We'd have to build a coffer dam to divert the river, chop out four tunnels, each a mile long and then blow the coffer dam when we've finished the permanent dam. The canyon walls will have to be tested for structural integrity. A railroad terminal and new roads to and from the site must be built along with roads down the surface s of the canyon walls on both the Arizona and Nevada sides. It will take thousands of men experienced in all phases of dam building. I can't begin to imagine the cost. Pop Squires, a newspaperman, could be right. The Federal Government may have to build this dam. It could be too big for private business.

    I'm so excited I've forgotten to inquire about your health and how you are getting on with my father. I do hope all is well.

    I suggest that as soon as it is convenient; you take rail passage to Boise, Idaho. There we can set up our own home. Arthur Davis estimates the Arrow rock project will take seven years. Brig and I have been discussing how to complete the job in less time. Usually, people's dreams are never matched by the realities of life. My dreams have been exceeded by this experience.

    Brig and I are Leaving Las Vegas ,going directly to Arrow rock, Idaho to build the tallest dam in the world. Brig's wife will be expecting you in Boise. See you there.

    Sincerely Your Husband, Frank Crowe

    Post Script: Give my regards to Dad."

    Two letters awaited Frank Crowe when he and Brig Young arrived in Boise Idaho. The first from his wife:

    My Dearest Husband,

    I and your Father were so pleased to receive your letter. I have re-read it several times. Your happiness is mine. Your father said he is pleased you have found the profession that satisfies your heart. He said whether in the church or building dams, you would always do a good job.

    I have not purchased my ticket for Boise yet as your father is invalided with a severe cold. He has temperature. I think you will agree it is best I remain and nurse him. The doctor says there is no need to worry. Others in town have the same affliction.

    Please give my regards to Brig and his wife. I am sending Brig's wife a separate letter introducing myself and thanking her for the offer of hospitality. I am looking forward to seeing you. As soon as your father is recovered, I shall be on my way to set up our first home in Boise. Boise is such a strange name. Do you know its origin?

    With Fondest Regards,

    Your Wife, Marie.

    The second letter from Arthur Davis addressed to Frank was also meant for Brig Young:

    "From Arthur Powell Davis,

    The men to whom you are responsible on the Arrow rock Dam Project are tried and true. You will both be given responsibility for contracting companies hiring and overseeing their work building this dam. Originally, two approaches were thought possible: The Arrow rock Dam could be government built. No! No! cried Congress, the government will lose money! Or the dam could be built by private contractors. Cries of, No! No! The government will lose money!

    I offered a compromise solution. The dam becomes my personal responsibility. All designs will be made by our Bureau of Reclamation. Our men (mainly you two) will hire and fire all contractors. And we are responsible for setting and meeting time schedules, the quality of all work and designs. I will appoint retired veterans of countless projects, specialists in their fields to inspect and monitor everything you do. Utilize their knowledge and experience.

    The vigilance of Congress makes a waste-proof spending plan crucial to all future projects west of the Mississippi. You two are my eyes and ears on the job. Protect us against fraud. Look for and develop the most reliable group of western contractors. Nurture them. It will take local knowledge, the latest technology, skilled manpower and trustworthy contractors to build the number of dams I have in mind. Know that one day you will return to Boulder Canyon to build a colossal structure for the world to marvel at. Prepare yourselves and the people you will require. Feeding our egos is not the objective, making the western desert bloom is.

    Good Luck my Brothers, Fraternally,

    Arthur Powell Davis

    Brig Young had given no indication that he was a Bother Mason. Frank gave him the sign, grip and word, which Brig properly returned. They agreed to attend Masonic meetings at Idaho Lodge #1 in Boise.

    Frank declined Brig Young's hospitality, preferring to live at the dam site until Marie's arrival. The two men drove to the construction site and were directed to a long low wooden building. There were many desks and a telegraph machine set up near the secretary who sat directly in front of the only office in the building. The sign on the door read, Bernard McDonnell Superintendent of Works.

    You're expected. The secretary ushered them into the office.

    Call me Bernie, the Superintendent said as he came around the desk and offered his hand. He had a fringe of grey hair on either side of a bald head, clear blue eyes and an easy smile. Frank judged him to be six feet tall and about sixty years old, with a flat stomach and calloused hands.

    Understand you two are Masons. No matter. I'm a Knights of Columbus man. Do your jobs and we'll get along fine. There are no chairs but mine in this office. If you need to sit down to hear what I say then either I'm talking too much or you don't want to hear it. We have to build a diversion dam and redirect the flow of the Yellowstone River so we can pour a foundation on dry ground to build the main dam at Arrow rock. The Diversion Dam will house a power plant consisting of three 500-kilowatt generators to furnish electric power for the Arrow rock construction crews. Brig, you'll be in on the designing. Frank, you'll boss the work gangs. I will direct the two of you. You'll have experienced foremen. Bernie McDonnell handed Brig and Frank each a folder. We'll build a saw mill and sand-cement plant at the Arrow rock site to provide the materials needed for all construction work. The dam will be 350 feet high, 1,150 feet long. It will be a poured concrete, arch structure with an overflow spillway and 6 large drum gates, 20 ensign valves and 5 sluice gates. Arrow rock will be the tallest dam in the world. Frank, do you have knowledge of railroads?

    Yes, Sir, but I've never built one.

    Start now. We need seventeen miles of standard gauge track connecting the construction camp with Arrow rock Dam site, the Diversion Dam and Storage Yards at Boise. It will be used to transport men, supplies and building materials back and forth. The Reclamation office estimates cost of the railroad at between 5 and 6 million dollars. This is my last project before retirement. I'm known to bring in jobs below estimate. You two are responsible for maintaining my reputation.

    Brig was given an arm-full of survey maps, plans for water pipes, sewerage and blueprints for structures to house the construction gangs. It was to be known as Arrow rock City. Bernie McDonnell directed Frank to a desk close by the secretary outside his door. She brought several maps, reams of survey papers and folders detailing the rail extension from Boise to Arrow rock. Another pile had a hand written note on top, Storage Yards, Coaling and Water Stations at Boise.

    Frank ate at the mess hall, slept at his desk or in the bunkhouse and, after reading every scrap of paper related to the rail line, he walked the entire length of the projected route. It was 17 miles to the main track and projected Storage Yard in Boise. He corrected mistakes on maps and blueprints, offered written suggestions and alternatives. These he returned to those originally responsible for drawing up the plans. He did not run to McDonnell with his observations and corrections. This gained him status in the eyes of those who originated the reports. They in turn joined Frank in labouring extra hours working up new figures, measurements and plans. Many men senior in age and experience deferred to Frank at work and in conversations. Others went out of their way to introduce themselves. Frank Crowe was accepted into the rough, tough, sometimes dangerous world of the construction community. He pinned a sign on the wall, Never my belly to a desk.

    Bernie McDonnell noticed the sign on his way to his office, but said nothing. He reappeared five minutes later with a fishing rod in each hand. I believe a man should observe a Sabbath of complete rest and relaxation every seven days. You've worked the last ten without regard for the clock or the Sabbath. Ever catch a Bull Head trout?"

    While cleaning the fish outside the company mess hall, Frank asked, "Do you know where the word

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1