1968 was a year of changes for our country; it 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.
            Naturally, my initial memories of that year come from the perspective of a 13 year old girl.  My sister, Lynn, graduated mid term from high school that year, so she could join the family for our first 8 months in Havasu.  Looking back, I realize now what she must have sacrificed to go so willingly with her family.
            While my parents began the clean up and working on the master plans, they had to operate the ongoing business, which at the time meant running the store and marina, the small trailer park and the campground, picking up the trash, maintaining the water system, reading the electric meters, plus getting me to school.
            This last chore fell on my sister, who drove me over the dirt road each day, so I could attend 8th grade at Parker Dam Elementary School.  My mother joined us for the commute, and this took about  3 hours of their time each day.  Our highlight of the trip was always the daily visit to the post office at Parker Dam.  As I mentioned earlier, we had no real phone system, so that year I wrote and received literally hundreds of letters. There was no email in those days.
            While I was at school my sister worked the store, and did her share of clean up, using a red wagon to collect the debris.  Havasu Palms came with its own share of vintage heavy equipment…remember the old TV show, Green Acres, and the kind of equipment he was forced to work with on his farm?  Well, that was our world.  One tenant nicknamed the equipment F.E.M., which meant Fix it Every Morning.
            Dad often spent hours each day coaxing some tractor or grader to life.  And with them he’d removed old sheds, gathered up the large array of debris, as he cleaned up the park. 
            There was a dumpsite nearby, and in those days trash was burned.  There was also another area, that was an enormous junk yard.  One of the previous owners was named Homer, and he was a bit of a collector.  We came to call this junk yard Homer’s Pile.   As the years went by, Homer’s Pile was cleaned up, and the landfill was covered and closed.
            During most of the winter the park was relatively quiet.  Campers and trailer tenants showed up on the weekends, and occasionally a fisherman would wander in.  At times our family would be the only ones in the park. Easter break was the first big holiday of the season.  It was perhaps just as crowded and as crazy as spring break is now….maybe more so. 
            We weren’t ready to implement any major improvements the first year.  Yet, we did paint the store for Easter…first we gave it a coat of muddy brown…and then my parents gave us cans of colored paint, and let us use our imagination.  It was the 60’s and we covered the store with bright flowers and lopsided butterflies.  (next)

Photo: Walt Johnson removing old Havasu Palms bait shack, circa 1968