There were gas pumps along the road, propane tanks, and a rickety gas dock.  Numerous shacks and rustic buildings were shattered through the park, including a tool shed next to the store, and an old motel building, that would eventually be torn down to make way for the Road’s End Restaurant.
           Bob Orchard continued to lease a section of land adjacent to the Havasu Palms leasehold, where his primitive vacation house stood for many years.  It reminded me of something out of the old west. 
            There was junk, everywhere; old tires, rolls of wire, tools, auto parts, a junkman’s dream lined the road. My father had a dream to develop this rustic and scenic area into a family recreation destination. It was perhaps one of the most beautiful sections along Lake Havasu.
           Together with two business partners, my parents purchased Havasu Palms, Inc. at the end of 1967.  My parents were the major shareholders and general managers of Havasu Palms, and my father was the primary force behind all the developments that took place during their tenure.
            When we moved there, 16 years remained on the lease.  My father understood that without a long-term lease, he would not be able to secure financing to implement his development plans.  He was told by the Department of Interior that if he hired a professional architect to draw up plans, acceptable to them, we could secure a long-term lease, which in those days meant 99-years. They also wanted him to realign the entry road into the park, as part of the road ran over the dirt airstrip.
            One concern of my father’s, was the possibility of adding the lease land to the nearby Chemeheuvi reservation.  He’d heard stories of land disputes along the river, and did not want to encounter these kinds of problems. Before purchasing Havasu Palms, representatives in the Department of Interior assured him the land would never be added to the reservation because it was located on a public waterway. According to them, it simply was not possible.  Unfortunately, my father took their word on this matter, and eventually discovered they were wrong.
            We moved our family of four, plus one schnauzer, three cats and a canary. Our Covina house was for sale, and eventually my parents invested all of their equity and assets into Havasu Palms.
            When we arrived in 1968, the first order of business was cleaning up the place.  Dad was also working closely with an architect firm, developing a master plan. Money was extremely tight.  They had a daughter that would be going off to college in the fall, and his income as general manager of the park paid minimal wages.   My mother, who worked alongside Dad, received no salary, until later years.
            Nineteen-sixty-eight was a year of changes for our country. The United States was struggling with civil rights, the woman’s movement, we were and sending a man to the moon, not to mention an unpopular war in Vietnam.  For my family 1968 meant embarking on a new adventure in a remote desert wilderness.

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Photo: Old Junk at Havasu Palms, circa 1968