The CCC Boys Set Up Camp Again : Reunited Alumni Say Modern Corps Would Be a Boon

They turned back the clock and remembered the Terrible ‘30s when they were young, single, out of work, out of hope and the country was in deep trouble.

They were benefactors of one of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s first New Deal programs to lift the nation from the depths of the Great Depression--the “CCC boys,” the 2.9-million-member Civilian Conservation Corps.

And this week more than 2,000 have come to Little Rock from every state for the fourth biennial convention of the National Assn. of Civilian Conservation Corps Alumni.

The CCC alumni, in their 60s and 70s, marched through downtown Little Rock on Wednesday in one of the highlights of their get-together. As far as anyone can remember, it was the first parade of the CCC since the federal civilian work force was dismantled in 1942.

Two Californians--Jack Vincent, a retired high school principal who died in February, and Bob Griffiths, 68, a retired civilian planner with the Air Force--founded the alumni organization on Aug. 17, 1977, in Sacramento.

“Jack and I got together a reunion of CCC fellows in the Sacramento area in 1976,” Griffiths said. “We thought we would be lucky if a dozen or so showed up. More than 300 attended. After the reunion, Jack and I kicked around the idea of organizing a national CCC veterans group, got a charter, set up the articles of incorporation, wrote the bylaws and here we are.”

Sacramento formed the first chapter; Santa Barbara is Chapter 2. Today there are more than 20,000 CCC alumni in 120 chapters. About 1.5 million former members of the CCC are believed to be alive.

The association’s primary goal is to see the establishment of a modern-day national civilian conservation corps “to give unemployed youth of today the same break we had when we were young,” Griffiths said.

Legislation Undertaken

The original CCC members have been successful in getting three bills introduced for that purpose in Congress. One bill failed. Another was passed by Congress but was pocket-vetoed by President Reagan at the end of last year’s session. Reagan vetoed the bill while at Camp David which was built by the CCC.

A third bill was introduced this year.

Griffiths, a past president of the alumni association, is chairman of the National CCC Historical Center Commission which is trying to raise funds for a repository of CCC records and memorabilia at another CCC project, Jefferson Barracks in St. Louis.

During the nine-year, three-month life of the CCC, from 1933 to 1942, nearly 3 million men planted 2 billion seedling trees in national forests, built 67,000 miles of roads and trails, erected 3,470 fire lookout towers, strung 23,000 miles of telephone lines, built 30,500 bridges, helped develop 40 national parks and 350 state parks, fought forest fires and floods, did soil erosion control work on 20 million acres and much more.

Millions of Americans still use roads, trails, camp sites, bridges and buildings constructed in every state by the CCC.

The 18- to 25-year-old men of the CCC were paid about $30 a month and room and board. Of this amount, the CCC sent $25 home to help members’ families and gave the men about $5 spending money.

The queen of Wednesday CCC parade was Mildred L. Blanche, 66, a Sioux from Aurora, Colo., who is the only woman known to have been a CCC enrollee.

“There were 10,000 Indians in CCC camps strictly for Indians doing work on Indian reservations,” Blanche said. “I was out of work and applied for a job as a member of the CCC. The superintendent of the Winnebago, Neb., Indian Agency hired me as an enrollee, even though the CCCs were supposed to be only for men.

“I spent two years issuing supplies from a warehouse--things like shovels, picks, nails, grubbing hoes and boondockers (weed cutters) to the boys.”

When introduced to the convention, Blanche said the CCC “gave me hope, gave me opportunity, gave me job skills,” sentiments echoed by other alumni.

Charles Brown, 72, of Santa Maria, a member of the San Luis Obispo chapter, said the CCC turned him “into a man from a skinny nothing. Thank God for F.D.R. I was a sixth-grade dropout enlisting from the cotton fields of Tennessee, where I picked cotton since I was 11. I don’t know what I would have been if it wasn’t for the Cs.

Segregated Camps

“This sixth-grade dropout, inspired to finish my education by the CCC, later became a professor at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo and MIT. Look what it did for me. Look what it did for all of us.”

In the convention center at the Excelsior Hotel, walls were filled with old photographs from many of the nearly 3,000 CCC camps, scenes of camp life, photos of crews at work and fighting fires. Books on exhibit included “Hobnails, Boots and Khaki Suits,” “The Saga of the CCC,” “Steps, a Collection of CCC Poems.”

The 1930s was a period of segregation in the United States. Black CCC members did the same work as the whites, building such structures as the National Arboretum in Washington, D. C., but lived in separate camps.

But one black alumnus, Marvin Williams, 77, of Little Rock, the retired mail superintendent of the Arkansas Gazette, recalled the benefits he gained from the CCC.

“It meant a job where there were no jobs. A CCC today across America would be a godsend for many of the kids, young men and women, on the streets without jobs, without direction to their lives. . . .”

California and 15 other states have state programs modeled after the CCC.

John L. (Budgie) Barger, 66, an Arkansas millionaire, spearheaded the drive to get the convention in Little Rock. Barger is a fanatic in his loyalty to the CCC.

His three Cadillacs have CCC license plates and bumper stickers that proclaim: “THE CCC LIVES ON.”

Barger, who designed the alumni association’s flag, found about 15,000 unused blue wool CCC caps that were made in 1939 and distributed many of them at the convention.

“I was an uneducated kid, one of 12 children living in the woods near Garner, Ark., when I joined the Cs,” he said. “My daddy was a wood chopper, we were as poor as field mice.”

Barger credits the CCC with motivating him to join the Navy, where he rose to the rank of commander, and with becoming a success in the business world. He manufactures fishing reels and owns several transportation companies.

For Wayne C. Foster, 72, a retired Kansas City toy salesman and current president of the alumni association, “the best thing I ever found in the Cs was my wife. I met her while in one camp in Missouri. I was transferred to another camp and walked 50 miles one time just to see her.”

Bulletin boards were filled with notes left by men trying to find old CCC buddies.

Lloyd Davis, 64, of Palatka, Fla., a shipper, wore a T-shirt with the numbers of his old camps--Camp 5428, Moro, Ore., and Camp 1445, Wilbur, Fla.

“I keep hoping someone will spot the numbers and introduce himself. We were all 18-, 19-, 20-year-olds. We’d probably never recognize one another if we met. But we’d sure have a lot of great old memories to swap,” Davis said.

Monthly Journal

The $12-a-year membership in the organization includes a subscription to the monthly NACCCA Journal, published at the organization’s national headquarters, 7245 Arlington Blvd., Suite 318, Falls Church, Va. 22042. Local chapters meet monthly.

The journal is filled with old photographs and a bulletin board with messages like: “Edward Heinecke, CCC’er from Camp 1508 Milford, Utah, would like fellow camps’men to write him at Box L7, 595 El Camino Real, N. Salinas, Ca. 93907.”

Marion Wilbur, 65, wife of San Diego chapter member Bud Wilbur, addressed the convention about efforts she is making to locate the original “spirit of CCC” statue that was last seen in 1939.

“The 10-foot bronze by John Palo Kangas, the same sculptor that did the famous Father Serra statue at the Ventura County Courthouse, was originally in Griffith Park and dedicated there by President Roosevelt Oct. 1, 1935,” said Wilbur. “It was transferred to Balboa Park in San Diego in May 1936.

“Called ‘Iron Mike,’ the statue honored the young men of America who joined the CCC. If we can find the statue, and surely someone must know what happened to it, it will once again stand in Balboa Park as a tribute to the outstanding job done by the CCCs.”

They came to the convention by plane, train, bus, RV and car.

Marvin West, 72, Jack Bulmer, 64, Dell Parmer, 72, and Jack Riker, 71, flew in from the San Bernardino chapter.

“The irony of it is we went right from the CCCs into the war. No one thought of having an alumni organization until Jack Vincent and Bob Griffiths came up with the idea eight years ago,” Riker said.