Forks of Salmon, c. 1958
Does anyone remember the old sign along the road when you reached Forks of Salmon? It said, “YOU ARE NOW ENTERING AND LEAVING FORKS OF SALMON, CALIFORNIA”
And that was true, around the corner, past the Bennett Store, across the bridge, and that was it. Maybe there were other buildings that have escaped my memory. Ahh, but people were there, up a little road here and there, along a creek burbling into the Salmon River. Hidden up those roads were people, nice people.
The photo above was taken in about 1957, not long after the first time I saw the Forks in 1954. The inside of the store could have been the set for an old Western movie. It was right out of the 1870s.
A nurse lived at Forks of Salmon in 1958. She was the only medical person outside of Hoopa or Happy Camp. To contact the nurse from Somes Bar, one went to Langford’s Store, where they had a CB-type radio. There weren’t any telephones at Somes Bar. Nor electricity.
I had a need to do just that when stung by a giant black and white wasp. As it buzzed around, I swatted at it and got stung on the outside of my hand. Soon, the swelling reached nearly to the shoulder. So, down to the store we went. Mrs. Georgia Langford placed the call and the nurse said to come to up to Forks of Salmon.
Next, more radios, or maybe a telephone, were used by the nurse to contact the Doctor in Yreka. He prescribed what she should give me. She probably already knew, but, of course, the Doctor had to say so. Even today, so many years later, the names of those drugs, Adrenaline and Epinephrine, remain in my memory. The nurse administered the shots. I said I’m going to be sick. She left for a basin for me. I fell off the chair in a dead faint. Mr. Hubby thought he was a widower. But I came around, and the meds worked to reduce the swelling and prevent a further allergic reaction to the sting.
So today that photo of Forks of Salmon brings laughter and memories of a town with helpful people, a beautiful river, and dirt roads.
Many of those people, like the Kearneys, Brazilles, Orcutts, and McNeals, have stories in Know Us, Remember Us.
Until next week,
Donna Rae
I remember the townsite, post office when we White Water rafted in the 1990! What a wonderful memory. Thanks for sharing. Deb Wilson
Donna I tried to get your book on Amazon and could not find it. 🙁
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My aunt and uncle lived on Crapo creek in the 50’s to 67. I spent my summers there as a young boy. Great times! Art and Vera Cripps. Someday I will return for a visit of the old home site. 78 years young now long time ago but remember all the great times.