Hysterical Journey to Historic Places

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<strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">COUSINS<strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">



My grampa, Glen Oliver, took his wife and family and scrambled off into the wilds of Central Idaho during the Great Depression. They survived by placering gold, supplying firewood to the mining community, and working for the local mines and conservation camps. Those were tough times for everyone, but by 1940 the family was strong enough to operate in more genteel surroundings. Grampa moved to Sandpoint and took over the operation of a gas station and motel there. By the late spring of 1942 the winds of war had blown into Sandpoint. There was a strategically important bridge across Lake Pend Oreille there that was crucial to the buildup of defense forces in Alaska. National Guard troops from North Dakota were sent to guard the bridge from sabotage. Among them came a soldier named Carl Forsberg who had with him a wife, Ruby, and a son, named Jim. The Forsbergs were billeted at grampa’s motel. Also living in Sandpoint during those early war years were grampa’s daughter, Evelyn Irwin and her two sons, Glen and Mike. The family was overloaded with guys named Glen so we have always called him Bud. There was not much difference in age between Bud Irwin and Jim Forsberg. They would probably have known one another at school, but the Forsbergs were not in Sandpoint very long. Carl’s unit was sent into battle at Guadalcanal and his family returned to North Dakota.



Carl served with distinction during the war, but near the end of it he got to ripping around in a jeep and crashed it. The accident shattered his left knee and it had to be fused. He was sent to De Witt hospital near Auburn, CA for recovery, and in due course he bought a 40 acre farm in Auburn and settled down to raise chickens and expand his family. His sister-in-law, Maudie, soon joined them with twin daughters for a divorce from her worthless husband. They took up residence in a small shack that was in poor shape in an orchard on Carl’s farm. Her dad purchased that shack from Carl with the intention of living there himself when the daughter got back on her feet. The old man was still back in North Dakota, but nearing retirement age, and hoping to sell his poor farm to his brothers.



Towards the end of the war grampa had taken ill in Sandpoint and needed a warmer climate. He sold his property there and made plans to move to Southern California. His health had deteriorated by the time he got as far as Auburn though so he bought a half acre spread out in Long Valley and settled in to raise a few chickens of his own while his vigor returned. As the war ended grampa’s son, Peewee, took a discharge from the army and came to Auburn to help his dad. Grampa died of infection on Christmas Eve of 1945 leaving a widow and two sons, Peewee and Dick, in Auburn. Evelyn Irwin, and her sons, Bud and Mike also lived briefly in Long Valley, but they didn’t stay long. One day the widow, Gramma Carolyn, was in town running some errands and happened to run into Carl’s wife, Ruby Forsberg, in the Auburn post office. They happily renewed their friendship from Sandpoint and before long Peewee and Maudie become an item. They married in 1947 and I was born in 1948. Jim Forsberg and Bud Irwin were my first cousins. After high school they both joined the military. Jim joined the California National Guard, and Bud joined the Air Force.



By the mid 1950’s Jim and Bud were both serving in Germany. Jim was deployed to the 499^th Engineer Battalion, and Bud was a navigator in C-119 flying boxcars assigned to the 10^th Troop Carrier Squadron. On the morning of August 11, 1955 a flight of nine flying boxcars from the 1oth landed at Stuttgart to pick up soldiers from the 499^th for a routine 45 minute training exercise. Bud was assigned to navigate #9 and Jim’s platoon, along with the battalion commander, was loaded into #8. Shortly after takeoff the planes had leveled into a tight V formation and were banking into a left turn when the port side engine on #8, flying high right, blew out. Number 8 collided into the cockpit of #9, lost both tail booms and crashed. Number 9 continued to fly for a few more seconds but nosed over and went straight in. There were no survivors from either plane. Fifty- six soldiers and ten airmen died that day. It was the worst postwar accident of its time.







Lady Luck was smiling down on our family that day though. Jim had made the brigade football team and was not on the duty roster for that exercise. Bud switched planes in Stuttgart with Norm Anderson, the navigator in the #2 plane, because Norm had just purchased a new camera and wanted to get a photo of the formation banked high right into the left turn from the #9 plane. Both of my cousins, one from each side of my family, cheated death on that terrible day, and Norm may well have captured one helluva photo.

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