In part one of The Children of Owenyo, the story began years before the birth of the small railroad community nestled at the base of the southern Inyo Mountains. The name Owenyo was coined from the conjunction of Owens Valley and Inyo, and given to a Quaker colony established in 1900 just northeast of the forthcoming railroad station. After the colony’s demise in 1905, the name was given to the Valley’s newest depot established on October 18, 1910 with the placement of a silver spike. Owenyo, five miles north of Lone Pine, was actually a transfer station where commodities and supplies were swapped between the valley’s smaller narrow gauge railway, and the wider standard gauge railway that headed south out of the Valley. The standard gauge was over a foot wider, and the two tracks never connected.
A very busy station, Owenyo offered plenty of work for men supporting wives and children. And those children had plenty of escapades as revealed in Part 1. The adventurous children of Owenyo scooted down the railroad tracks on hand propelled “speeders” to their favorite fishing spots, and actually maintained and ran the steam locomotive for Zip Myers, an engine watchman who would disappear for weeks at a time to go fishing.
Based on the oral history of Roy Cline, the children of Owenyo entertained themselves by making money filling the niche needs of the little town: hauling and selling ice to families whose monthly allotments ran out, or selling skinned rabbits for 50 cents each to the trainmen and then selling the stretched rabbit hides. “We’d trap along the river there and get skunks, bobcats, coyotes. Then we’d get a bundle of those [hides] and ship them to St. Louis, the nearest place you could send them.”
As with most kids, imagination helped pass the time. One imaginative activity was centered on “Bunker Hill.” Word got out that children were scaling the flanks of a hill whose prominence inspired epic battles and adventures. That word reached a friend who made a special trip to Owenyo to see the “Hill” for himself, a mountain he couldn’t find on a map. With great anticipation he finally arrived, and there it was: a mound of dirt, towering but a few feet above the ground. It may have been small, but it was a mountain in the minds of the children of Owenyo.
Another pastime in the valley was hunting. In Roy’s later life, his then brother-in-law would regale him with stories of duck hunting at turn-of-the-century Owens Lake, a time when it was nearly full.
“He went there one day, he had this platform and looked out there and there wasn’t any ducks so he got on this platform and went to sleep. Later on he said the ducks woke him up. He said he parted the tules and looked and said the sky was black with ducks. He said he shot two times ... and he picked up two burlap sacks full of ducks.”
According to Roy, when he grew up in the 1920s the valley was still green with agriculture. At the time, the fruitful settlement of Manzanar was still productive. Established in 1910, Manzanar, a Spanish word meaning apple, produced fruit of exceptional quality. The Consolidated Produce Company in Los Angeles reportedly contracted for fruit there and needed people to harvest the crop. The kids at the train station were more than ready to help out since they had a compelling reason. “Us kids there, we used to get out of school by picking fruit ... we’d get 30 cents an hour, nine hours a day.” Life was good for the children of Owenyo, but things were about to change.
Roy lamented, “Everything started going downhill about 1928.” Manzanar was abandoned after the City of Los Angeles purchased the water rights to virtually the entire area, and the great depression was around the corner. When asked about the feelings in the Valley regarding Los Angeles buying up the property, Roy recalled:
"At the time I think it was pretty good because they give [sic] them a good price. But later on when the banks went broke they weren’t too happy about it. [That’s] because I remember there about 1928 they had bombing on the aqueduct and they had guards at the Alabama Gates [just north of Lone Pine]. And they make a raft, put the dynamite on it with a delayed fuse, and float it down the aqueduct. They [city of Los Angeles] had large searchlights at all the crossing."
With lack of water and private land, farming was fading away and jobs in agriculture took a hit. But there was one local industry that was flourishing.
In 1930, 16-year-old Cline was one of 17 local kids who were employed by Hollywood when movies, mostly westerns, were being filmed in the hills around Lone Pine: “I believe I worked in every [movie] Hopalong Cassidy made.” There were actors and there were wranglers. Roy began as a wrangler providing movie makers with horses for the countless westerns filmed in the Alabama Hills. Soon he became an actor riding “western”, which basically meant playing a cowboy in the movies. They made just 5 dollars a day, and they were very long days: “We decided we weren’t getting enough money for the work ... so we formed an association called the Inyo Riders Association [that] raised our wages from five dollars to seven-fifty.”
In 1935, the Screen Actors Guild reportedly expanded its influence into Lone Pine. Roy’s routine changed and conditions improved:
"We got a call at the Dow Hotel, which was our main place, and then we rode the bus up to the set. They had to feed us every four hours. If we had to ride in the scene we got a horse from the wranglers, then [we gave] it back ... and waited for the next call.”
Roy and the others worked in the movies from 1930 to 1940. Then, an opportunity to work at Manzanar once again came along; this time the circumstances were different.When Roy turned 28, the abandoned settlement of Manzanar became a Japanese internment camp after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941. Roy’s initial involvement with the camp was helping build the dozens of barracks designed to hold the nearly 10,000 individuals of Japanese descent.
Later, employed as a postal carrier running mail between Bishop and Lone Pine, he began visiting the camp daily delivering mail. Roy befriended the young people of Manzanar, most of whom couldn’t understand why they were there: “I asked them, ‘what do you think of this?’ They’d say, ‘we’re American citizens, that’s all we know is American.’“
Soon, Roy and his crews began installing drywall at the barracks to improve their conditions. By then internees had created orchards and gardens to supplement their diet. “The kids liked me and I liked them. They’d do anything for me. In fact ... they always made a point [to] send apples out with me, potatoes out with me.” It was wartime, and the Owens Valley felt the effects of rationing. “Inside the camps, when things were rationed on the outside, they had everything in there they needed. I could go there and get coffee or anything else that was rationed.” Although Roy enjoyed his life in the southern Owens Valley, other opportunities began calling.
In 1945, 31-year-old Roy Cline went to work for Inyo Lumber, helping gather logs from timber cuts in Mono County. His job took him from June Lake to Mammoth, the mountains surrounding Crowley Lake, and Sherwin Summit. He hauled the timber down to a lumber mill north of Bishop, a place that would later become the Millpond Recreation Area.
According to Roy, Millpond Park actually had two functioning ponds, “The far one as you come into the park now was the holding pond ... and the closest one near the slab was the working pond.” The sloping concrete slab can still be seen today. “They would float them [logs] to the mill then lift them up onto the slab to roll them onto the saw. They had the guys on the lifts piling lumber, the drying and stacking units. They had a 24-hour shop.” Millpond reportedly employed at least 100 men.
Roy Cline was among many who seized jobs wherever they could find them; sometimes it was for money, sometimes it was for the adventure. Roy’s various jobs were iconic in their representation of local rural life, from selling animal hides, to working the orchards in a once fruitful valley, acting in local westerns, logging, mining, and other jobs too numerous to share. And it all started when a young boy moved to a remote train station in southern Owens Valley, and became one of the children of Owenyo.