Doris Catherine Clark

#334, b. 3 February 1916, d. 14 March 1993
     Doris Catherine Clark was born on 3 February 1916 Boise, Ada County, Idaho.1 She married LeVon Perry Dunford, son of Oscar William Dunford and Nellie Pearl Palmer, 13 March 1938 Jacksonville, Oregon. Doris Catherine Clark died 14 March 1993 , in Flagstaff, Coconino County, Arizona at age 77.
     As of 13 March 1938,her married name was Dunford (Clark). In 1937, Doris Catherine Clarkresided Ione, Oregon; with Bergstrom family.

My mother, Grace Freeland was born April 22, 1893 at (or near) Great Bend, Kansas. The first child of Fred A. Freeland and Delora Helvern Freeland, both of whom were born in Kansas. Mom was born with club feet but evidently learned to walk. When she was six my grandparents took her to Chicago for surgery. A sister, Fairy, was born when Mom was about three, but died at two - from some abdominal problem, possibly appendicitis. Esther was born when Mom was past six or so, essentially Mom was an only child for the first six years of her life. I think she was, and remained, her father's favorite child. They were close friends and able to communicate on a personal level.
Dad Freeland (we were never allowed to call either of my mother's parents Grandma or Grandpa) had gone to a teacher's college in Kansas, as my grandmother had, and they met while each was teaching. After they were married Dad Freeland worked as a mail clerk on the railroad. The Helvern relatives lived nearby, Great grandma, Caroline Beard Helvern and her husband Hiram Helvern had a general store in Hutchinson, Kansas, as well as a big farm. She lived with the Freelands in Boise after Hiram died and I remember her as a quiet, tiny person who helped with the housework and read a great deal.
All of the Helvern children, with the exception of Grace Helvern Bradley, were very earthy and for the most part, arrogant people. Perhaps my mother was overwhelmed in their constant presence because she was always a shy retiring person. Or maybe that came later after being buffeted by the circumstances of her marriage to my father.
The Freelands moved to Idaho in 1905 when they bought an irrigation system in the Bruneau Valley. Dad Freeland also had a hardware store but within five or six years had lost it all. (Mother said he loved to play poker and that he got involved with some card sharks)
After losing everything they moved to the Boise Valley where times were hard for them for several years. They now had three children. Wallace was born in Kansas when Esther was six. In between them a boy, Horace, was born and lived eight months. He as genetically damaged with a harelip and cleft palate. After coming to Boise, Harriet (1908) was born, followed by Hank (Hiram, 1912). Then Dan came along in 1918.
When Mom was in high school she worked at a store repairing dolls. However, by her senior year the family would not afford her tuition so she did not finish school until many years later. This had to have been traumatic for her as she had early put a great value on education. She had a very good mind and was especially gifted in mathematics.
Along the way she learned to sew, making her own patterns, and to paint water colors. For a long time there were several of her watercolors of flowers around but they disappeared from my Grandmother Clark's house. All we have of hers are the hooked scenes she made in the 30's.
Around 1907 or 08 my father, Harland Clark became acquainted with the Freelands. He had come to Idaho in 1903 from North Dakota. He was the eldest child of Emma Radabaugh Clark and Benjamin Clark, born in 1871 in Zumbro Falls, Minnesota. His father was twenty years older than his mother and died when Dad was twenty-five. A family tale is that Emma was engaged to someone else and when Benjamin showed up she broke her engagement to marry him. They had a flour mill in Zumbro Falls and, later, a farm. After Dad was born there were six more children, all girls but one, William. The tale we heard growing up was that William had disappeared forever. We all felt so sorry for Grandma Clark. Just recently I found out that was not true - they did know where he was but didn't ever talk about it. Probably some really juicy scandal. Dad and all the girls were tall, good liking people, very proud of their ancestors on the Clark side. They didn't bother to find out about the Radabaugh side, except that Francis Scott Key was a relative. Ethel, the oldest daughter, married a Robertson and moved to Ellensburg, Washington - probably after they moved to Idaho. Emma and Mable were teachers in North Dakota but when they moved to Idaho Mable became a practical nurse.
She never married but made homes for Grandmother Clark and Emma - before and after Emma married, rather late in life, Jay Whitmore. The two youngest girl, Alice and Helen did not move west. Alice married H. L. Lincoln in Fargo, N.D. who owned a leather goods store and Helen married Dwight Potter who owned the Casselton N.D. newspaper.
Dad came to Idaho in 1903 and worked around the Boise Valley as a steam engineer on the harvest machines. He never stayed very long on one job so frequently was unemployed. I suspect that his sisters gave him money during those times. By now, 1910, he was close to 40, six feet tall, slim, and handsome. Evidently my grandmother didn't realize or didn't care that he was so undependable. Mother was still in school during those first years and after leaving school dated a boy only a year to two older than she was. At the same time she was probably fascinated by an older, seemingly sophisticated man. When she was sixteen she became blind for a period of six weeks. That was probably due to some trauma relating to Dad's actions with other women. He was not courting her then but she undoubtedly had a serious crush on him.
Around 1911 he went to he went to work managing a ferry over the Snake River in Owyhee County. That is where he was working when he and Mom were married in May, 1912. He had told mother he owned the ferry but I think she would have married him anyway. Grandma Clark and Aunt Mable were at the ferry, also, and shared their home. This ferry became known as Clark ferry and is listed on old maps as such. They lived there until after I was born in 1916. Harland was born Jan. 2, 1912, weighing in at only 41/2 pounds, then Jessie Sept. 15, 1914, me Feb 3, 1916.
Those were fairly happy years. There was a small crew that Mom cooked for but she liked to cook. They did go into Boise frequently for family get togethers.
By the time Eleanor was born April 15th, 1918, they had moved back to the Boise Valley, living in a yellow house out in the bench. That is when I learned to walk at 22 months. Mom would put large books in a baby doll carriage and I learned to walk with that. This is my earliest real memory. My pokiness in walking is probably due to the fact that I didn't breathe on my own for seven minutes after I was born. Mom always said I was drowned so I suspect the placenta had detached before I could be delivered. Mom had gone into labor on Feb. 2 but because of a three foot snow the doctor could not get to the house so Mom went to bed and somehow managed to stop the labor.
About the time I was born Dad Freeland got a job in Washington D. C. and was rarely home. They were living in Boise on 8th Street where Eleanor and I were both born.
We lived at various placed around Boise the next few years with all our relatives near. In desperation Mom went back to summer school to get her high school diploma so she could teach. She also had to go to summer classes for teachers. When I was five she taught at Keiffer School south of Boise. Harriet Freeland lived with us that year so the school would have six students as required by law. Instead of a well, the farm house we rented had a cistern which we had to clean. Mom would lower us in and we would scrub the floor and walls. When it was clean a water truck would come and fill it. I liked doing that. There were little bright green frogs that stayed in the cistern and it was cool and damp down there. We had about a mile to walk to school down a dusty road. Eleanor was only three so she went along with us and played and napped at the school.
Mom continued going to summer school and we stayed with Mamma Freeland or Esther who had married Emil (Baron) Marenholtz and had two children, Audrey and Pete. They had a ranch on the second bench above Boise.
The next two years Mom taught at Stuart Creek school north of Boise. The teacherage was a one room cabin about 10x12 in which we cooked and ate and she and Eleanor slept. At each of her first three schools Emil had loaned us a cow so we had lots of milk, butter and cottage cheese. Jessie had fallen from a horse when she was eight and received a compound fracture of her left arm. She was in the hospital twice and did not get to go to school much for one year so we ended up in the same class.
After Stuart Creek it was necessary for Mom to go to school for a full year to get her teaching degree so she took Jessie and went to Lewiston when I was eight. Eleanor and I were left with Mamma Freeland for the summer and Harland went with Dad back into the mountains looking for gold. Dad had decided a few years back that he would find the Mother Lode so didn't live with us much. My grandfather paid Mother's way to school that year in Lewiston and supported us all that year. Harriet stayed with us there because Mamma Freeland had gone to spend the year with Dad Freeland in Havre, Montana where he was the internal revenue agent.
By now, Dad had staked some gold mine claims near Florence in North Central Idaho. It had been a roaring gold mine in the 1860's but was long deserted. We started spending our summers in there with Dad. He had a wagon and two big horses, Jim and Jeff. Mother bought canned goods and other staples to last the summer. The road went in south from Grangeville. The fifty miles took us two full days. We would camp overnight at a spring and slept under the stars. Dad would cut fir bows to put under our blankets. At the mines we had a tent and lean-to to live in, carrying our water from a nearby spring. Dad had dammed up a creek to make a pond so we could play in the water. The first year we lived away from Florence a mile or two but the second year we were camped in the same meadow. There was nothing left of the town but the old jail, a building about 6x8, and a "hotel" that had been built within recent years. There were some crews around doing something or other so Mom would go to the hotel and cook for them. That summer Harland, about 13, was very ill with some undiagnosed illness. He became very thin and pale and had no energy. Whatever it was, he got over it. That was also the summer that I hurt my back. Eleanor and I were riding Jim and Jeff and they decided to get rid of us by going under some low branches to brush us off. Eleanor ducked but I landed on my seat on the ground, crushing a vertebra. No one paid any attention to me so I just laid around until it quit hurting so much. Years earlier I had discovered books so I spent a lot of time reading, anyway.
The school year after Lewiston was spent in Stites, Idaho, a small community on the Clearwater River. Here Mom taught seventh and eighth grades. This was the only year since Mom started teaching that my Dad worked for wages. He got a job in Orofine, down the river from Stites, with a logging outfit. He had to pay board and room so didn't have much left over but Mom was counting on that to have Jessie's tonsils out. When Dad came home he had spent the money on a new suit and a Stetson hat. That was the only time I ever saw my mother blow up at him. I think by that time she realized he was a hopeless case and that she would always have to support us.
The next year we were back near Boise at Pleasant Valley School so were around our relatives once more. Through Esther's efforts Harland got a job as page in the state legislature instead of going to high school the full year. Mom used his money to buy a Chevrolet Touring car which she learned to drive and take care of.
When we went back to spend the summer with Dad he had taken up claims on Little Slate Creek about four miles west of Florence. That meant taking a different route when we got to Boulder Creek out of Grangeville. To get down Little Slate Creek Dad would tie the wagon brakes, and tie a good sized jack pine to the back of the wagon to hold it back. No one rode the wagon down, even Dad got off to one side with the reins. The horses sort of slid down on their haunches to the bottom of the steep incline. Our place was a few miles up the creek from there. We had a bunk house with hay mattresses and a tiny log cabin. Slate Creek meandered through a wide meadow of tall grass that was cut for hay in the fall. It was truly a beautiful place. We all learned to swim, after a fashion, in the creek. Dad would go out early some mornings and catch a hundred trout before breakfast. He also shot an occasional deer so we had venison - too frequently for me. He would also take a long pole with a wire loop on it and catch fool-hens roosting in trees. There were huckleberries galore on the slopes beside the meadow. We would take a picnic lunch and go picking them for a whole day. Then Mom would can them, either as sauce or as jam. By the time we left in the fall we would have a dozen two-quart jars, besides all we ate. Dad would walk over to Florence once a week to get the mail. He was mining up at one of the side draws that ran into Little Slate. He never got more than $100 worth of gold in a summer's work.
We were well aware of the dangers of getting lost or hurt because we were too far from anyone to get help. In the two summers we were there no more than four people came by altogether - I can remember only two, a very rude young man and a woman on horses that Dad threatened to run off with a gun.
That fall, 1927, Mom did not get a job until the first of November. We went back to Boise to school and lived with Esther, who had moved to town. When Mom did get a school it was on the South Fork of the Salmon River via McCall, Cascade and Warren, then over the summit and down to the river. Harland stayed out in Boise with Esther to go to high school so Mother loaded up the car with food and us girls. None of the roads were paved and since it was late in the year tended to be muddy. We stayed over night in Cascade with the county school superintendent, at a hotel in McCall, and with a family in Warren that owned the town and the road house on the South Fork we were going to live in. The Chevy touring car had no heater but did have side curtain. It was cold. The road down into the South Fork was steep and had such sharp switchbacks that Mom had to back up to make the turns. When we arrived at the road house we found it was a sort of inn that catered to miners and trappers who worked that country. It was an old two story ranch house run by the Dave Williams' who had three sons, two Hadleys who were by her first marriage, and a little Williams.
A school was supposed to be built but never was. Our desks were set up on one side of the dining room. They were shiny and new and we had a bright green chalk board, new books, and nothing else. We started school after breakfast was served, stopped for lunch, and then quit at four.
We had a large bedroom upstairs that held two double beds. Until a little kitchen could be fixed for us we ate downstairs with the Williams and boarders. Breakfast was always steak or pork chops, biscuits, and gravy as well as cooked cereal and eggs. Mom Helped Mrs. Williams cook so it didn't cost too much to feed us. Later a small part of the hall upstairs was partitioned off for our kitchen. It had a tine sheet metal stove, orange crate cupboards, a small table, boxes for chairs. We had to carry water up and down stairs, as well as wood for our little stove. Not long after we arrived there we girls all came down with mumps and soon the Hadley boys got them from us.
The Williams raised chickens and pigs and had horses and cows so we were able to have fresh milk and meat to stretch the canned goods we had brought with us. All new supplies had to be brought by horse and dog sled when snow closed the road not long after we arrived.
In March of '28 Dad Freeland died of a heart attack in Boise so Mother went out. She took the car as far as the snow line, dog sled to Warren and horse sled from Warren to McCall where she caught the train to Boise. It was quite an adventure for her and took several days.
My Dad walked over from Chamberlain Basin to stay with us for awhile and bring our dog, Bummer. He was a good sized collie mix so we put a harness on him to pull our sled. He never did learn to "mush", tho.
In the spring we left and went back to Lewiston for a short while. Esther and Mom had decided to sell Diamond gas lanterns so they would leave us all at a tourist cabin and go about Camas Prairie on selling trips. Once they were gone so long we ran out of money for food. A grocer where we had shopped before gave us credit until they returned. Harland had come up to Lewiston with Esther so he was in charge of us.
That summer we went back to Slate Creek for the last time. Dad had built a two room log cabin during the winter so we had a nicer place to cook and eat. Behind the cabin was a cliff that had a walkway dug into it. A spring had been dug out in there that gave us cold water. It also gave us a cool place to store food. Dad had also acquired a riding horse named Don that we would take turns riding down the road. I would never ride him far because the silence of the woods frightened me.
Once when Eleanor and I were going to a small spring up the way from the cabin we came on a bear cub. He ran away and so did we - back to the cabin.
That year we had come in Esther's car as far at the steep bank into Little Slate instead of with Dad and the wagon but we did go out in the fall with Dad.
That fall, 1928, Mother taught at Black Lake in Northern Idaho. There were several lakes in that area, from one point seven were in sight. The train station and post office is all there was to Black Lake. It was by the railroad between Harrison and Kellogg. To get from the school to the post office we had to walk a mile or two and row across the river. There was a road that ran along the dike of the Coeur d' Alene river on our side that we traveled on to Harrison. The land next to the river was marsh with high grass that the dairy cows ate. They would be up to their bellies in water so had to be washed down every evening before milking. This school had a two bedroom teacherage, brand new and unpainted. In the winter we learned to ice skate on the frozen marshes and in the summer we swam in Black Lake and learned to walk the logs that were stored in the lake in booms before they were towed down to the mills at Springston and Harrison by tug boats. I liked to hear the tugboats chug-chugging up and down the river.
It had become increasingly hard for Mother to get schools since she was married and the attitude of the general public was that married women should not work, so in view of Dad's indifference Mom divorced him that year. When school was out she went to Kellogg to work in a restaurant, leaving us to fend for ourselves during the week, just the girls because Harland also had a job in Kellogg. We managed to bake bread for others as well as ourselves and Eleanor and I got a job washing the milk cans and milking machines at the farm that Jules Taylor managed. Jessie was also gone to Harrison where she helped out in a boarding house. Since Harland was a sophomore in high school he had to board in Harrison when the river road got too muddy in the winter.
Jules was a bachelor so after Mom was divorced he came courting. We all liked him because he was easy going and had a good sense of humor. Since Jessie and I were ready for high school, we moved to Harrison in the fall of '29 and Mom got a country school just across the long, long bridge that went over the mouth of the Coeur d'Alene River where it entered Coeur d'Alene Lake. She and Jules were married that winter so she spend her weekends at the dairy ranch.
The crash of '29 affected us greatly because the price of cream, the main product of the ranch, went so low it couldn't be sold for as much as it cost, so the owners shut it down. That left Jules without a job so when Mom's school was out they decided to move to Southern Oregon where he had relatives. Harland stayed in Harrison to finish the school year. Mom left her touring car with him. The rest of us went to Boise in Jules' Star Coupe where Jessie and I were left with Esther and Harriet to finish out the school year at Boise High. Eleanor went with them to Oregon. They settled in Jacksonville where Jules got a job with the county highway department.
In May Harland drove to Jacksonville by himself and in July came over to Boise in the Star to get Jessie and me. My uncle Wallace's wife, Montella, decided this would be a good time for her to go with us to visit her family near Jacksonville, taking five year old Ruth, three year old John, and six weeks old Jimmy. That made quite a crowd but somehow we all got packed in. The only thing she paid the whole trip was for some oil. It took us two days, getting into Medford at night where we left Montella and brood to be picked up. That was the last we saw of them for about three years because Montella told Wallace she had paid all the expenses of the trip so needed more spending money. He was pretty cross and probably never knew the truth. The moved to the Rogue Valley in the next year to two but did not contact us for some time - probably when they wanted something from us.
We all started to school in the fall and things were going well. Unfortunately Jules was laid off in November, just before Harriet was born. We were very excited about having a baby around and thought she was the cutest, brightest child in the world. Doris and LeVon had three children, Kristin, Bruce, and Patricia.

Family of Doris and LeVon

Charts
Berger, Jonathan #3263, b ca 1700 Switzerland or Germany, d PA
Graves, Francis #708 b say 1630 d Aug 1691, Virginia
Nowlan, John # 867, b bef 1580, Ireland, d Ireland
Pinckard, John # 1404 b ca 1642 d 1690, Lancaster County, Virginia
Wade, Edward # 838, in Virginia bef 1746
Beasley, John #2041 b ca 1717 d bt 1781-1782, Buckingham County, Virginia
Bruce, John #403 b ca 1724, Kinnard, Scotland d ca 1752, Orange County, Virginia
Claye, John #1523, b ca 1588, England, d bef 1660, Virginia
Eyres, Joseph # 7329, b 17th century, Virginia or England
Ferris, Richard # 2074, b say 1620 or so, immi 1636, d Virginia
Fuquett, Gills # 3276, d Virginia
Green, Thomas # 2060 b 1700. d Virginia
Hooker, Thomas # 3118 d bef 1637, London
Humphreys, William # 7331, d Virginia
Lewis, John # 2831, b ca 1620, d Virginia
Marston?, Thomas # 2756, No further information
Palmer, John # 1430 b aft 1719 Virginia
Povall, Robert # 409 b 1653, England d 1728, Virginia
Samson, Francis # 3266 in Virginia bef 1700
Wilson, John # 417, b say 1620s, England or Henrico County, Virginia
Woodson, John (Dr.) # 133 b ca 1586, England, d 18 Apr 1644, Burmuda Hundred, Virginia
Bobbitt, William (Captain) # 6079, b 1744, Virginia, d 1817 Fancy Gap, Virginia
Hardwick, J. # 2729, probably from Virginia mid 18th century
Humphries, George # 2771 b ca 1770, North Carolina, d aft 1850, Kentucky
Parks, (--?--) # 3649, in Maryland bef 1770
Richardson, (--?--) # 6104, in Virginia before 1765
Beasley, John #2041 b ca 1717 d bt 1781-1782
Berger, Jonathan #3263
Bobbitt, William (Captain) # 6079
Bruce, John #403 b ca 1724 d ca 1752
Claye, John #1523 b ca 1588
Eyres, Joseph # 7329
Ferris, Richard # 2074
Fuquett, Gills # 3276
Graves, Francis #708 b say 1630 d Aug 1691
Green, Thomas # 2060 b 1700
Hardwick, J. # 2729
Hooker, Thomas # 3118 d bef 1637
Humphreys, William # 7331
Humphries, George # 2771 b ca 1770 d aft 1850
Lewis, John # 2831
Marston?, Thomas # 2756
Nowlan, John # 867
Parks, (--?--) # 3649
Pinckard, John # 1404 b ca 1642 d 1690
Povall, Robert # 409 b 1653 d 1728
Richardson, (--?--) # 6104
Samson, Francis # 3266
Wade, Edward # 838
Wilson, John # 417
Woodson, John (Dr.) # 133 b ca 1586 d 18 Apr 1644
Last Edited=29 May 2017

Citations

  1. [S395] Ancestry.com, online Ancestry.com, Idaho, Birth Index, 1861-1916.