Rick Just's Blog, page 227
July 28, 2018
The Elusive Sharlie
No self-respecting lake monster should go without a name. At least, that’s what A. Boon McCallum, editor and publisher of the Payette Lakes Star thought.
Sightings of some sort of creature that seemed out of place in Payette Lake had been going on for years when the newspaper in McCall decided to run a contest, in 1954, to give the poor beast a name. More than 200 people entered the contest. The suggestions ranged from the pseudo-scientific to variations on monster names. They included:
Boon
Fantasy
Nobby Dick
Humpy
Watzit
McFlash
High Ho
Peekaboo
Snorky
Neptune Ned
…and on and on. The winner, as you may know, was Sharlie. Le Isle Hennefer Tury of Springfield, Virginia walked away with the $40 prize for that one. Lest Idahoans grump too much about an out-of-stater winning the contest, it was pointed out that she had at one time lived in Twin Falls.
I confess to having my own “Sharlie” sighting once while standing atop Porcupine Point in Ponderosa State Park. With no boats in site for miles the water below in The Narrows started churning. It continued to churn for about two minutes. There was no creepy music accompanying the phenomenon, so I just chalked it up to space aliens.
Sightings of some sort of creature that seemed out of place in Payette Lake had been going on for years when the newspaper in McCall decided to run a contest, in 1954, to give the poor beast a name. More than 200 people entered the contest. The suggestions ranged from the pseudo-scientific to variations on monster names. They included:
Boon
Fantasy
Nobby Dick
Humpy
Watzit
McFlash
High Ho
Peekaboo
Snorky
Neptune Ned
…and on and on. The winner, as you may know, was Sharlie. Le Isle Hennefer Tury of Springfield, Virginia walked away with the $40 prize for that one. Lest Idahoans grump too much about an out-of-stater winning the contest, it was pointed out that she had at one time lived in Twin Falls.
I confess to having my own “Sharlie” sighting once while standing atop Porcupine Point in Ponderosa State Park. With no boats in site for miles the water below in The Narrows started churning. It continued to churn for about two minutes. There was no creepy music accompanying the phenomenon, so I just chalked it up to space aliens.
July 27, 2018
A Famous First Name
If you’ve been hanging around Idaho for a few decades paying a little attention to who did what, you’ve run across the name Bowler from time-to-time. There’s Bruce Bowler who was a pioneer conservationist and attorney who pioneered the field of environmental law in Idaho. Drich (short for Aldrich) Bowler was an artist and inventor who hosted the 13-part Idaho Centennial series, produced by Idaho Public Television, "Proceeding on Through a Beautiful Country: A Television History of Idaho." Ned Bowler was a speech/language professor at the University of Colorado in Boulder.
But this is a story about their brother, Holden. Holden was an athlete, a military man, and a business man. He held a state record for high school track in Idaho, retired as a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserve, ran a Denver ad agency, and taught environmental education. But it was his passion for singing that gave him a couple of interesting connections to noted contemporary figures.
While going to school at the University of Idaho in the early 1930s, Holden met Thomas Collins. They became good friends over the years, and Holden became godfather to Tom’s daughter Judy Collins, the well-known folksinger.
Singing took Holden to sea. He became the headline singer for a cruise line on a cruise to South America. He met a young man named Jerome who was staff on the ship. They became fast friends. The two toured the towns where the cruise ship stopped and shot the breeze. Jerome told Holden he was a writer. He liked Holden’s unusual first name and told him he would probably use it someday in a story.
When Jerome got around to using Holden’s name, the writer was going just by his first initials, J.D. J.D. Salinger. The author of Catcher in the Rye once wrote to Holden Bowler and said about the character who borrowed his name, “what you like about Holden (Caulfield) is taken from you, and what you don't like about him, I made up.”
Holden Bowler passed his passion for singing on to his daughter, Belinda Bowler, who I’ve heard called “Idaho folk music royalty.”
But this is a story about their brother, Holden. Holden was an athlete, a military man, and a business man. He held a state record for high school track in Idaho, retired as a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserve, ran a Denver ad agency, and taught environmental education. But it was his passion for singing that gave him a couple of interesting connections to noted contemporary figures.
While going to school at the University of Idaho in the early 1930s, Holden met Thomas Collins. They became good friends over the years, and Holden became godfather to Tom’s daughter Judy Collins, the well-known folksinger.
Singing took Holden to sea. He became the headline singer for a cruise line on a cruise to South America. He met a young man named Jerome who was staff on the ship. They became fast friends. The two toured the towns where the cruise ship stopped and shot the breeze. Jerome told Holden he was a writer. He liked Holden’s unusual first name and told him he would probably use it someday in a story.
When Jerome got around to using Holden’s name, the writer was going just by his first initials, J.D. J.D. Salinger. The author of Catcher in the Rye once wrote to Holden Bowler and said about the character who borrowed his name, “what you like about Holden (Caulfield) is taken from you, and what you don't like about him, I made up.”
Holden Bowler passed his passion for singing on to his daughter, Belinda Bowler, who I’ve heard called “Idaho folk music royalty.”
July 26, 2018
Pizza!
So, in the interest of solid historical research I sometimes type a random word in the search box of various newspaper archives. The word one Sunday was “pizza.” I thought it might be fun to find out when the first pizza, as we know it, arrived in Boise.
The first mention of what one might recognize as a pizza was a recipe that appeared in the Idaho Statesman in 1941. It was basically throw some red sauce on Italian dough, grate some cheese over the top of it and bake for 25 minutes.
The next decade of pizza news in the capital city was dominated by Frank Pizza, who played a lot of amateur softball. He was in the news approximately ten to one over a scattering of other pizza recipes, including one for Maine Sardine Pizza. Yum?
Softball Frank still led the pizza search (he also went to work servicing Maytags, by the way) in the early 50s, but in 1951 it finally happened. You could BUY a pizza at a restaurant in Boise (photo). The Villanova restaurant began offering pizza after 9:30 pm, by candlelight. Apparently, this was after the kids would be in bed, so it was safe.
Pizza recipes continued, often suggesting an English muffin as the solid foundation for your genuine Italian dinner at home.
Frank played softball.
In 1953, the Payless Drug Store on Tenth and Idaho moved pizza technology forward a notch by selling the Bake-King Pizza Pan with which you could make pizza RIGHT AT HOME.
It was a major advancement in culinary news in May 1955 when the Howdy Partner Drive in Café, (on Hiway 30 Near the Fairgrounds), began advertising a new taste sensation the Pizza Burger (Trade Mark Reg.). It was said to be all the rage on the West Coast.
Still, Frank Pizza’s amateur softball career was getting more mentions than anything pizza-like that you could have for dinner. He eventually switched to golf.
There were rumblings of what was to come, though. Classified ads started appearing looking for various kinds of restaurant help including those experienced in PIZZA MAKING!
Then, the breakthrough. On October 8, 1955 the first restaurant with pizza in its name opened in Boise. Pete’s Pizza Pie Restaurant on Vista Avenue, next to Quinn’s Lounge advertised Real Italian Pizza. And so it began.
Today, of course, there are 147,000 pizza restaurants in Boise, according to the number of search results I got back when I typed into Google “How many pizza restaurants are there in Boise?” Hold the anchovies.
The first mention of what one might recognize as a pizza was a recipe that appeared in the Idaho Statesman in 1941. It was basically throw some red sauce on Italian dough, grate some cheese over the top of it and bake for 25 minutes.
The next decade of pizza news in the capital city was dominated by Frank Pizza, who played a lot of amateur softball. He was in the news approximately ten to one over a scattering of other pizza recipes, including one for Maine Sardine Pizza. Yum?
Softball Frank still led the pizza search (he also went to work servicing Maytags, by the way) in the early 50s, but in 1951 it finally happened. You could BUY a pizza at a restaurant in Boise (photo). The Villanova restaurant began offering pizza after 9:30 pm, by candlelight. Apparently, this was after the kids would be in bed, so it was safe.
Pizza recipes continued, often suggesting an English muffin as the solid foundation for your genuine Italian dinner at home.
Frank played softball.
In 1953, the Payless Drug Store on Tenth and Idaho moved pizza technology forward a notch by selling the Bake-King Pizza Pan with which you could make pizza RIGHT AT HOME.
It was a major advancement in culinary news in May 1955 when the Howdy Partner Drive in Café, (on Hiway 30 Near the Fairgrounds), began advertising a new taste sensation the Pizza Burger (Trade Mark Reg.). It was said to be all the rage on the West Coast.
Still, Frank Pizza’s amateur softball career was getting more mentions than anything pizza-like that you could have for dinner. He eventually switched to golf.
There were rumblings of what was to come, though. Classified ads started appearing looking for various kinds of restaurant help including those experienced in PIZZA MAKING!
Then, the breakthrough. On October 8, 1955 the first restaurant with pizza in its name opened in Boise. Pete’s Pizza Pie Restaurant on Vista Avenue, next to Quinn’s Lounge advertised Real Italian Pizza. And so it began.
Today, of course, there are 147,000 pizza restaurants in Boise, according to the number of search results I got back when I typed into Google “How many pizza restaurants are there in Boise?” Hold the anchovies.
July 25, 2018
Dempsey, Idaho was a Hot Spot
So, you haven’t heard of Dempsey, largely because it wasn’t called that for long. Dempsey was in southeastern Idaho, where Bob Dempsey, a trapper, had his camp for about 10 years from 1851 to 1861. He moved to the Montana gold fields after that and dropped off the map. The town named after him got a post office in 1895, but the name Dempsey disappeared in 1915, when they started calling the place Lava Hot Springs, which is more reflective of the major draw to the town.
The hot springs were deeded to the State of Idaho in 1902. In 1913, the hot springs site became a state park, and the state built a natatorium there in 1918. In 1967 management of the site was taken over by the newly formed Lava Hot Springs Foundation, a group appointed by the governor to run the place. That foundation is still in existence today, running a large complex of water features.
The pools at Lava Hot Springs are from 102 to 112 degrees. Their Olympic-sized outdoor pool has diving boards, high and low diving platforms, and corkscrew waterslides. Next to the pool is the big waterslide that comes swooping in right across the main road into town.
Located about 45 minutes south of Pocatello not far off I-15, Lava Hot Springs is a major draw for Utah recreationists.
The hot springs were deeded to the State of Idaho in 1902. In 1913, the hot springs site became a state park, and the state built a natatorium there in 1918. In 1967 management of the site was taken over by the newly formed Lava Hot Springs Foundation, a group appointed by the governor to run the place. That foundation is still in existence today, running a large complex of water features.
The pools at Lava Hot Springs are from 102 to 112 degrees. Their Olympic-sized outdoor pool has diving boards, high and low diving platforms, and corkscrew waterslides. Next to the pool is the big waterslide that comes swooping in right across the main road into town.
Located about 45 minutes south of Pocatello not far off I-15, Lava Hot Springs is a major draw for Utah recreationists.
July 24, 2018
Our Horseshoe Town
Time for another in our series called Idaho Then and Now.
Utopian communities were common in 19th Century America. The still new country attracted people who envisioned a perfect society.
One such community was New Plymouth, Idaho. William E. Smythe founded the New Plymouth Society of Chicago with aim of building a planned community in Idaho’s Payette River Valley. Unlike some utopian community, this one wasn’t based on religious or moral principles but rather on planning and irrigation.
On April 17, 1985 the Idaho Daily Statesman carried a story that quoted Smythe. “Each colonist will purchase 20 acres of irrigated land and 20 shares of stock in the Plymouth company,” Smythe said. “He will also be entitled to an acre in the central area set apart for the village site if he will build a house upon it and make his home there.”
The town itself was platted out in a horseshoe shape with the open end of the horseshoe facing north toward the Payette River (Google Earth image below). Shareholders’ farms and orchards would all be within two or three miles of town.
The paper quoted Smythe, “There is to be nothing communistic about this New Plymouth. There is to be very little co-operation even, in the technical sense. The only property which is to be owned in common is the town hall, which is to be modeled after the Idaho building at the World’s Fair.” The fair had been held in Chicago in 1893. The community would have a library and an electric lighting plant.
The town was incorporated in February, 1896. It started out with a couple hundred residents, each with at least $1,000 in cash to their name, as was required by the colony. Today it’s population is about 1,500.
The shape of the town is about the only clue left about its origins. Citizens call it the “World’s Biggest Horseshoe.”
Planned communities today in Idaho tend to come in a couple of forms. The first type, not unlike New Plymouth, is built with an eye on planned amenities. Hidden Springs and Avimor near Boise and Eagle, respectively, are examples. The other type of planned community that we hear about involves a belief that some form of political or natural disaster is due. These are the survivalists who are looking for someplace to ride out the storm. The redoubt movement is an example.
Time for another in our series called Idaho Then and Now.
Utopian communities were common in 19th Century America. The still new country attracted people who envisioned a perfect society.
One such community was New Plymouth, Idaho. William E. Smythe founded the New Plymouth Society of Chicago with aim of building a planned community in Idaho’s Payette River Valley. Unlike some utopian community, this one wasn’t based on religious or moral principles but rather on planning and irrigation.
On April 17, 1985 the Idaho Daily Statesman carried a story that quoted Smythe. “Each colonist will purchase 20 acres of irrigated land and 20 shares of stock in the Plymouth company,” Smythe said. “He will also be entitled to an acre in the central area set apart for the village site if he will build a house upon it and make his home there.”
The town itself was platted out in a horseshoe shape with the open end of the horseshoe facing north toward the Payette River (Google Earth image below). Shareholders’ farms and orchards would all be within two or three miles of town.
The paper quoted Smythe, “There is to be nothing communistic about this New Plymouth. There is to be very little co-operation even, in the technical sense. The only property which is to be owned in common is the town hall, which is to be modeled after the Idaho building at the World’s Fair.” The fair had been held in Chicago in 1893. The community would have a library and an electric lighting plant.
The town was incorporated in February, 1896. It started out with a couple hundred residents, each with at least $1,000 in cash to their name, as was required by the colony. Today it’s population is about 1,500.
The shape of the town is about the only clue left about its origins. Citizens call it the “World’s Biggest Horseshoe.”
Planned communities today in Idaho tend to come in a couple of forms. The first type, not unlike New Plymouth, is built with an eye on planned amenities. Hidden Springs and Avimor near Boise and Eagle, respectively, are examples. The other type of planned community that we hear about involves a belief that some form of political or natural disaster is due. These are the survivalists who are looking for someplace to ride out the storm. The redoubt movement is an example.
July 23, 2018
Idaho's Traveling Forts
One of the more confusing things about Idaho history is keeping track of which fort someone is talking about. Two were built in 1834 to begin the confusion. First, Fort Hall, on the south bank of the Snake River near present-day Pocatello, was established by Nathaniel Jarvis Wyeth, who needed a site from which to sell trade goods. The Hudson’s Bay Company, at least partly to provide competition for Fort Hall, built a trading post at the mouth of the Boise River where it flows into the Snake that same year. Two years later, the Hudson’s Bay Company purchased Ft. Hall.
Fort Boise, the trading post, operated until about 1855. The military Fort Boise was established in 1863, about 40 miles upriver from where the Hudson’s Bay trading post had been. The town of Boise was established next to the fort the same year.
Fort Hall moved around a little more. It stayed in its original location until 1855, serving first as a fur trading post, then, as the pioneers started streaming through as an important supply stop on the Oregon and California trails. In 1869 and 1870, the first military Fort Hall was built on Lincoln Creek, where it streams into the Blackfoot River. It remained there until 1883 when the barracks moved to Ross Fork Creek, about 25 miles to the west.
To confuse things a bit further, you can now visit the full-scale Fort Hall Replica in Pocatello. It’s not at the original site, but it is worth a visit. And, finally, to muddy the historical waters, there is the town of Fort Hall, which is close to the site of the original trading post.
This is the site of the first military Fort Hall near Lincoln Creek on the Forth Hall Indian Reservation.
Fort Boise, the trading post, operated until about 1855. The military Fort Boise was established in 1863, about 40 miles upriver from where the Hudson’s Bay trading post had been. The town of Boise was established next to the fort the same year.
Fort Hall moved around a little more. It stayed in its original location until 1855, serving first as a fur trading post, then, as the pioneers started streaming through as an important supply stop on the Oregon and California trails. In 1869 and 1870, the first military Fort Hall was built on Lincoln Creek, where it streams into the Blackfoot River. It remained there until 1883 when the barracks moved to Ross Fork Creek, about 25 miles to the west.
To confuse things a bit further, you can now visit the full-scale Fort Hall Replica in Pocatello. It’s not at the original site, but it is worth a visit. And, finally, to muddy the historical waters, there is the town of Fort Hall, which is close to the site of the original trading post.
This is the site of the first military Fort Hall near Lincoln Creek on the Forth Hall Indian Reservation.
July 22, 2018
Merci, Idaho
Merci. It means “thank you” in French. The people of France gave a very big thank you to the people of the United States in 1949. France sent a Merci Train to the US as a showing of gratitude for the $40 million in food and supplies sent to France and Italy following World War II. Those supplies traveled in Europe on a “Friendship Train.”Each state and the District of Columbia got a box car from the Merci Train. Each car was loaded with artwork, correspondence, stamps, pamphlets, photographs, flags, and other memorabilia.
The box cars, formerly used for military transport, were called “Forty and Eight” cars because they could hold 40 men or eight horses. Idaho’s Merci Car is in storage at the old Idaho penitentiary, and not currently on display.
One prominent item is on display. A replica of Winged Victory (Nike of Samothrace) is in Statuary Hall in the Idaho Statehouse. The original sculpture, housed in the Louvre, is one of the most famous in the world. It was found in 1863—the year of the creation of Idaho as a territory—on the Greek island of Samothrace.
The original statue is marble. The replica is plaster cast over an armature. It arrived in the state on February 19, 1949 and has been displayed in a place of honor ever since. It was displayed in the second-floor rotunda of the Idaho Capitol Building for decades. It was moved to the fourth floor after renovation of the building in 2009. Other items from the Merci Car were distributed to each Idaho county.
Do you know what items from the Merci Train are in your county, and where they might be displayed?
The box cars, formerly used for military transport, were called “Forty and Eight” cars because they could hold 40 men or eight horses. Idaho’s Merci Car is in storage at the old Idaho penitentiary, and not currently on display.
One prominent item is on display. A replica of Winged Victory (Nike of Samothrace) is in Statuary Hall in the Idaho Statehouse. The original sculpture, housed in the Louvre, is one of the most famous in the world. It was found in 1863—the year of the creation of Idaho as a territory—on the Greek island of Samothrace.
The original statue is marble. The replica is plaster cast over an armature. It arrived in the state on February 19, 1949 and has been displayed in a place of honor ever since. It was displayed in the second-floor rotunda of the Idaho Capitol Building for decades. It was moved to the fourth floor after renovation of the building in 2009. Other items from the Merci Car were distributed to each Idaho county.
Do you know what items from the Merci Train are in your county, and where they might be displayed?
July 21, 2018
Idaho's Historical Roadside Markers
Idaho has one of the best historical highway marker programs in the country, thanks to the continued efforts of the Idaho Transportation Department and the Idaho State Historical Society. If there’s a single person to thank, though, Merle Wells fit the bill.
Dr. Wells started working on the program in the mid 1950s, identifying important sites and writing the text for the signs. The remarkable thing is that he kept the text on each sign down to fewer than a hundred words, and still provided a meaningful history lesson. I’ve used that many words up to this point.
Read what he packed into this marker on U.S. 95 at White Bird Hill.
“A Gatling gun, firing from the top of a low hill a mile northwest of here, beat off a Nez Perce attack, July 4, 1877.
“The next day, Indians just east of here surrounded 17 Mount Idaho Volunteers: two were killed and three wounded before cavalrymen from Cottonwood came out to rescue them. Meanwhile, Chief Joseph’s people, screened by this well-planned diversionary skirmish, crossed the prairie to join their allies on the Clearwater. From there the Indians retired across the mountains to Montana, where the Nez Perce War ended three months later.”
The photo below, courtesy of the Idaho Transportation Department’s digital collection, shows a display promoting the highway markers, probably in the 1950s in front of their Boise headquarters building. At that time, they were proud of the 41 markers already erected. By 1990, when the department published their Idaho Highway Historical Marker Guide (sadly now out of print), there were 232 markers scattered across the state. Merle Wells, pictured at the bottom in a photo courtesy of the Idaho State Historical Society’s digital archives, had written most them.
Dr. Wells started working on the program in the mid 1950s, identifying important sites and writing the text for the signs. The remarkable thing is that he kept the text on each sign down to fewer than a hundred words, and still provided a meaningful history lesson. I’ve used that many words up to this point.
Read what he packed into this marker on U.S. 95 at White Bird Hill.
“A Gatling gun, firing from the top of a low hill a mile northwest of here, beat off a Nez Perce attack, July 4, 1877.
“The next day, Indians just east of here surrounded 17 Mount Idaho Volunteers: two were killed and three wounded before cavalrymen from Cottonwood came out to rescue them. Meanwhile, Chief Joseph’s people, screened by this well-planned diversionary skirmish, crossed the prairie to join their allies on the Clearwater. From there the Indians retired across the mountains to Montana, where the Nez Perce War ended three months later.”
The photo below, courtesy of the Idaho Transportation Department’s digital collection, shows a display promoting the highway markers, probably in the 1950s in front of their Boise headquarters building. At that time, they were proud of the 41 markers already erected. By 1990, when the department published their Idaho Highway Historical Marker Guide (sadly now out of print), there were 232 markers scattered across the state. Merle Wells, pictured at the bottom in a photo courtesy of the Idaho State Historical Society’s digital archives, had written most them.
July 20, 2018
The Original Idanha
Boise is justifiably proud of its beautiful old Idanha Hotel. It was at one time the tallest building in the state of Idaho, and it boasts the state’s first elevator. It wasn’t first in one surprising aspect. It wasn’t the first hotel in Idaho that went by that name.
The original Idanha Hotel (photo) was built by Union Pacific Railroad in 1887, and it was located in Soda Springs. The name came from Idanha Mineral Water, which was bottled locally and sold all over the United States. The Idanha was a luxury hotel, with electric lights and natural gas heating. The tri-Weekly Statesman quoted a gentleman who had seen the new hotel as saying “the structure was not only one of the most complete in the West, but for its size one of the finest in the world.” It had $18,000 worth of furniture. During the grand opening, railroad fares to Soda Springs were half price.
Advertisements for the Idanha in Soda Springs claimed that it could comfortably accommodate “several hundred guests.” If that seems a little hyperbolic, it’s nothing compared with the way the nearby medicinal springs were described for their “many remarkable cures.”
In May of 1895 the Idanha Bottling works burned. One may well speculate about how a water company burns, but it did. They were back up and running two years later, producing at one point a million bottles a year.
The hotel, however, did not come back from its own fire in 1921.
So, there were once two Idanha Hotels. There was once an Idanha Candy Company (not to be confused with the venerable Idaho Candy Company). And, there is an Idanha, Oregon, a couple of hours southeast of Portland. Like the first Idanha hotel, it was named after the famous mineral water.
The original Idanha Hotel (photo) was built by Union Pacific Railroad in 1887, and it was located in Soda Springs. The name came from Idanha Mineral Water, which was bottled locally and sold all over the United States. The Idanha was a luxury hotel, with electric lights and natural gas heating. The tri-Weekly Statesman quoted a gentleman who had seen the new hotel as saying “the structure was not only one of the most complete in the West, but for its size one of the finest in the world.” It had $18,000 worth of furniture. During the grand opening, railroad fares to Soda Springs were half price.
Advertisements for the Idanha in Soda Springs claimed that it could comfortably accommodate “several hundred guests.” If that seems a little hyperbolic, it’s nothing compared with the way the nearby medicinal springs were described for their “many remarkable cures.”
In May of 1895 the Idanha Bottling works burned. One may well speculate about how a water company burns, but it did. They were back up and running two years later, producing at one point a million bottles a year.
The hotel, however, did not come back from its own fire in 1921.
So, there were once two Idanha Hotels. There was once an Idanha Candy Company (not to be confused with the venerable Idaho Candy Company). And, there is an Idanha, Oregon, a couple of hours southeast of Portland. Like the first Idanha hotel, it was named after the famous mineral water.
July 19, 2018
Bridges Gone Bad
The Idaho Transportation Department has released thousands of digitized photos from their files for the public’s enjoyment. I took my first look at the database recently and decided to pull together a little series of bridges gone bad.
This is an old bridge at Cataldo, circa 1910. It shows the distorted trusses and the temporary braces put in place to stave off a complete collapse. It’s doubtful there is any remnant of this old bridge today.
This is the collapse of the Parma Bridge. It looks to me like it was probably 1950s, by the way the men are dressed.
Perhaps the most dramatic bridge collapse in the ITD files is this one, which caught a Union Pacific Bus as it tried to cross. This may have been a bridge across the Bear River. Does anyone have any information about this incident?
This is an old bridge at Cataldo, circa 1910. It shows the distorted trusses and the temporary braces put in place to stave off a complete collapse. It’s doubtful there is any remnant of this old bridge today. This is the collapse of the Parma Bridge. It looks to me like it was probably 1950s, by the way the men are dressed. Perhaps the most dramatic bridge collapse in the ITD files is this one, which caught a Union Pacific Bus as it tried to cross. This may have been a bridge across the Bear River. Does anyone have any information about this incident?
