My C.C.C. Days: Memories of the Civilian Conservation Corps by Frank C. Davis

By Frank C. Davis

It used to be 1934 and jobs have been scarce. With so few clients, Frank Davis joined the Civilian Conservation Corps (C.C.C.) at age 18. For the following years he labored in western North Carolina. besides 1000's of alternative younger males his age, he equipped mountain climbing trails, roads, overlooks, and partitions within the nice Smoky Mountains nationwide Park. In those pages, he documents his reports as he matured, realized a alternate, and made lasting friendships.

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We slipped inside and stretched out. We were asleep in nothing flat. One boy slept too well. He snored so loud that he woke the woman who ran the place. She came in and told us that we could not sleep in her lobby. We told her our story and she said, “Well, I’ve got a room upstairs in which someone left a window open, 56 Frank Davis and it rained in on one side of the bed. ” We took the room, of course, and made the boy who did the snoring sleep on the wet side. When we woke the next morning he was gone.

Boys for a night on the town. m. for the trip back to camp and I would be aboard. Those were the days! Chapter Seven The Schoolhouse At one point on the “Round Bottom Road” project there was a two-shift operation set up for truck drivers. One morning after breakfast the second shift drivers were lolling around practicing being lazy, when the army lieutenant noticed them and mustered the group to form a campground clean-up team. As they were working on the grounds down from the top of the hill, where a small building that we called the “schoolhouse” stood, here came Ed Williams, who we called “King Kong”.

When they finished their performance and went into the makeshift dressing room (our barber shop) to change costumes, I posted myself outside the door to meet Neta when she came out. Was she ever surprised! We danced together the rest of the evening. After the dance there was a little social in the mess hall and I sat with the orchestra. Neta invited me to visit her at their performance in Asheville, but that was a little out of my league. It would be several years before I saw her again. Chapter Nine Life in the Barracks I had been assigned a bunk (army folding cot) next to a boy named Edison Weatherly.

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