In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

xi Preface For most of us, the Great Depression–era program called the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) rated a couple of paragraphs in our high school history book, and maybe a brief mention by the teacher about the number of trees planted in the forests by CCC workers. The college years didn’t add much more information for me, even though my academic training focused on American history. It wasn’t until much later that I came to realize the accomplishments, friendships, hardships, and good times that the young men of the CCC experienced. During the summer of 1999 I was working as a seasonal interpretive ranger for the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests in Arizona. Part of my job involved the development of historical displays at the Mogollon Rim Lakes Visitor Center, and I was searching for a topic for the next year’s exhibit. Another Forest Service employee, Jim Mendell asked, “What about the CCC?” That simple question jump-started the project, which was aided by selected students from my American history class at Saguaro High School in Scottsdale, Arizona. The resulting display was set up at the visitor center in the summer of 2000. The exhibit included the basic information about CCC work in the Mogollon Rim Country. I was very proud of the job my students did putting together selected photographs and an explanation of the simple elements of the program; there wasn’t much room in the building for anything else. Long before the project was finished, however, it became clear to me that there was much more to tell. That summer of ’99, Jim Mendell also asked me if I wanted to see one of the CCC campsites. The buildings were long gone, of course, but the walkways and concrete foundations of Chevalon Canyon camp were still clearly visible. The pinyon-juniper country was open, clear, and little changed from the view the CCC boys would have had in 1939. Jim and I were the only ones at the site that afternoon. Standing in the middle of that empty camp in that silent forest, the questions came easily. Who were the young men who worked here? How did they feel about being so far away from home? What kind of work did they do? What xii j preface was it like to live here? Where were they now? Had anyone ever told their story? I wanted to find them. I wanted them to stand there with me at Chevalon Canyon and talk about their experiences. It must have been an adventure like no other. Yet, today the CCC is a benevolent but faded memory of American history. The individuals who participated in it are going fast, and their memories will one day be gone forever. I realized that their stories deserve attention before it is too late, but I barely knew where to begin looking for them. As I delved into the history of the CCC in Arizona, I discovered that most of the enrollees were not local kids. After their CCC service, most had gone back East, participated in a world war, moved away from home, and settled down to raise their own families. Many were deceased. My search led me to the National Association of Civilian Conservation Corps Alumni (NACCCA), based in St. Louis, Missouri. This organization is the repository of manuscripts, photographs, and other memorabilia from CCC work around the country, but it has a policy against releasing names of members to the public. I explained my research motives , and after a series of convoluted and roundabout contacts, I one day received a telephone call from Charles Pflugh. He became the best friend I never met. As a young man, Charlie had been a CCC enrollee at Chevalon Canyon camp—the same one I had visited that summer afternoon in 1999. He now lived with his family in West Virginia. Charlie was more than willing not only to share his experiences with me, but also to open up his family album and share photographs and unique souvenirs from his time out West during the Great Depression. I was taken aback by his generosity because I had been unsure how much information the veterans would want to share with a stranger. Charlie’s willing cooperation inspired me to try and find more of these men. I found a few, but it wasn’t easy. I know I missed a few more, and I regret that very much. To my delight, however, I discovered...

Share