Brother Doug is writing a biography about my Grandfather Huffman. Doug asked that I write a little about I remember of him.

Grandpa died in February a few months after I turned seven years old. The things I write about below were all from summers when I was six or fewer years old. Doug is younger than me and just barely remembers him.

This is what I sent Doug a few minutes ago. Perhaps it will be interesting to others as well.

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It always was a big event when Grandpa and Grandma Huffman would come to the farm. Early in the summer we would get a letter and/or call from Grandpa and Grandma Huffman telling us when they planned to arrive on the farm. My brothers and I would eagerly await the day. And then on the expected day we would run to check the road whenever we heard a car. Usually, it would be in the mid-afternoon that we would finally see the green Crysler Windsor pulling the camping trailer down the road to the bottom of the driveway, then up the driveway to our house. The car would stop and temporarily park in front of the old house. Mom and Dad would join us kids as we welcomed them and talked before they parked the trailer and unhooked the car.

The trailer’s normal location for the summer was under the trees to the west and a little north of the old garage. We had created a simple septic system for the trailer to connect to and there was a water hydrant supplied by a long above ground semi-flexible black plastic pipe <Doug, this is how I remember it, but I can’ t remember where it was supplied from. Was it via the pipe that went a few inches under the gravel road behind the woodshed?> They had an electricity connection too.

The trailer would spend most of time there. But sometimes they take it to go camping and fishing. Uncle Walt and Aunt Pet would always go with them with their trailer. At least once Harold and Virginia Rhymer (sp?) and brought their trailer went with them too. I don’t remember exactly where but I suspect it was up the Lochsa or Selway Rivers. Usually, our entire family went camping with them. But I know that once I went with them without my family. It was with the Rhymers and the two elder Huffman families. There may have been other times too. I remember fishing using hellgrammites for bait. I would find them under rocks and logs in the river and put them on my hook or lure (the “Super Duper” lure was frequently used) and cast them into the pools of water to attract the rainbow trout. The adults typically would use lures with a different bait and I’m pretty sure Harold almost exclusively used handmade flies. I know Grandpa raised fishing worms in his backyard in Riverside. A wood box filled with dirt and worm food was under one of the orange trees. I think he brought some of those up with him for the fishing trips.

While all the adults slept in beds in the trailers, I recall sleeping in a small tent with a sleeping bag.

One time Grandma made biscuits for breakfast. They came out the most beautiful brown and everyone was eager to eat them. I got mine first, put the required butter and jelly on it, and took a big bite. Someone asked how it tasted. I told everyone it was good. But it wasn’t good. It tasted really bad. As other people took a bit out of their biscuits it became apparent there was something very wrong with the biscuits. I continued to slowly eat my biscuit which I had proclaimed was good until several adults told me I didn’t have to eat it. They would, and did, make something else for our breakfast.

It turned out that Grandpa Huffman put all the baking supplies into containers that would not spill when the trailer was being moved. When he labeled the containers, he mixed up the baking powder and the baking soda. The baking soda is what caused the biscuits to taste so bad.

Grandma and Aunt Pet frequently told that story about me to demonstrate how polite I was by not saying anything bad about Grandma’s food.

Early one morning Aunt Pet took me out into the woods to look for what they called Mountain Tea (research on this last summer revealed it is more frequently called Yerba Buena, clinopodium douglasii, or Oregon tea). We picked the leafy ground hugging vines and took it back to camp and made a hot tea with it. The extra leaves and vines were taken home to dry and put in a container for the next camping trip. I really liked the delicate mint like tea made with the fresh green leaves and vines. But the dried tea was harsh and not something I cared for.

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Here is a picture of the “Mountain Tea” I referenced above. The picture is one I used in a blog post last summer.