Written by Al Shelton as it appeared in the Arvin Tiller/Lamont Report Supplement Oct. 8, 1997:
 

We came to government camp in years old, my brother Ray 10, Herb, 13 and Charlie, 15.  My dad was Tom Shelton. My dad, Ray and I was stranded in Arizona for a while. We were in a '29 A model, and ran out of money and tires.

My older brothers had came to Arvin before dad, Ray and 1. We finally made contact with them, they came to get us. They had a cousin bring them to Seligan where we were. There was no woman with us because mom had died when I was 4 years old.

Dad sold the car for what he owed on it, so we were at the camp afoot. We rode to the fields with friends and all of us worked including me at seven years old, picking up potatoes. I was able to pick 56 pound bags between my legs as well as any seven year old. 56 pounds. was what a stub (sack) weighed. We were paid 1-1/2 cent a stub. I made over .50 cents a day by myself.

Dad bought a car during that same season. Work was slow for a while but where there was a nickel to be made, we were there. We worked at anything, any where.

We had a tent but very seldom put it up. We would just lay it on the ground and use it for a floor. In the fields, we were not in one place long enough to setup camp. You did not want to stay in one place too long, because of the way local people felt about us.

We were in and out of the camp 'till 1945; then we pretty well stayed there. The camp was home to me. I was very fortunate that we did stay in the camp.

My dad had become an alcoholic and my older brothers were all married by 1948.

One thing my dad had done; he did a good job of teaching us boys how to work. By 1943 things were really picking up for the 'Okie type, people. The war was in full swing. Many young Okies, 16 and older, volunteered for the service. They lied about their age and had someone besides their mom or dad sign for them to enlist. Many of them did not come home.

I worked at anything I could find to do to survive. My dad never gave me a dime but he also never took any money that I made. He never physically mistreated me, but I was left alone. Yet I was not alone; I had so many friends I was very seldom lonely. There was nothing to be afraid of there in the camp. I look back now and see that I had many brothers my own age.

I was getting a little older now; in the eighth grade at Sunset School. I had been a part of an Okie school that turned in to a dream. The teachers were fantastic. I can still name most of them. Mr. Vick Myers was one.

We lived in the tent circle in different spaces but lived in tent number 529 for years, then moved to tin cabin number 307.

I did not know if I would be willing to go to high school at Kern County Union High School ( now Bakersfield High School) but when Arvin High School opened in 1949, I started as a freshman. Arvin opened with ninth and tenth grades. Here, I was in another adventure; so many more kids, but Arvin turned out to be somewhat like Sunset. The only thing different was that all of us were about the same age. It was sure was different to ride a bus to school. Arvin also had excellent teachers, for example Mr. Barle: who remembers to this day most of the kids he taught, or coached.

I quit in the eleventh grade and went to work in the cotton fields. I later went back to adult school and graduated from Arvin High in 1967.  I dumped sacks of cotton for people; you walked up a ladder to the top of the cotton trailer and dumped the sack, 25 lb. and under was free, 25 lb. to 50 lb. was a nickel, 50 lb. to 100 lb. a  dime, 100 lb. and over 25 cents. I earned what I made.

      We had a "Pop" truck out in the field so people could buy sodas and  snacks, and one day a beautiful  girl came to the field with her mother who ran the pop truck. She was from Oklahoma also. She had been going to Bakersfield College but came down with a vent severe case of Valley Fever. Norma had been bedfast for three months and ordered to stay home from school and rest for at least  a year. She was just getting up and around. What a way to get back on your feet in the cotton field; it was  pure determination. She never went back to school. I don't know what she saw in me.  I was 6'2 "tall and 142 lb.  I had a wiry, skinny body. I had not went with a girl in my short life. Didn't have money or any time to devote.  I was just doing my best to survive.

     My dad, for what he was, cautioned about much trouble you could get into.   Back then it sure was different, the parents installed good morals in their kids. Even my dad in his condition  taught me what was right and wrong.

     If I had got in trouble with a girl or the law, he would have punished me  with all his might. It would be called child abuse today. It was just bringing up your kids, then. Goodness  knows the law was needed but nothing like today.

     Norma was the best thing that ever happened to me. We had a wonderful courtship. One of our dates  we went to the County Fair and rode every ride there was. Then I got hooked at a booth. I had $38 when we got to the fair and they got what was left, also what Norma had. It hurt me so bad I had wasted her money too.

    On April 11, 1953 we were married. The happiest day of my life. August 19 ended up being the saddest day of my life. I was inducted in the army. One hopes I never have to endure the feeling I felt that day.

    Leaving her standing on the sidewalk on Bernard Street in East Bakersfield crying. Don't kid yourself, I was crying also.

    When I returned from service, we lived in the government camp for a couple of years. We later bought our own place in Lamont.

    Forty-four years, four children, 11 grand children, and two great grandchildren later, we are still together in Lamont.

    I drive by the camp event, now and then and recall how it was back then.

Personal reminiscences
The Arvin Tiller/Lamont Reporter
9717 Main, P.O. Box 548, Lamont, CA 93241, (661) 845-3704