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Show and letters he could send at no cost to the organization because of reimbursement. One time cancellation rocketed without an artificial boost. It was in the winter of 1917-18 during World War I. From our Salt Lake daily Father noted a meat shortage in markets there. He encouraged homesteaders who were sharpshooters to shoot jackrabbits and send them parcel post to a Salt Lake store that announced a demand for rabbits. Although our large hares had boils or other ailments in summer, they were healthy in winter. Shotgun shells were expensive and they tore up the game. So our hunters used a .22. I had a single shot .22 and I tried to join in the hunt, but I never was a real marksman. Several men brought in burlap bags full of rabbits dressed for market. Father attached address tags and got them mailed. The hunters' profits were small but they could reason that they were also reducing the pests that had riddled their young grain the previous spring. He couldn't put the rabbits in the mailbag. They were too bulky and heavy to handle on the crane. So he "flagged" the local to a stop with a kerosene lantern each night we had a rabbit shipment. He stood between the rails showing his light. When the engineer sounded his querying whistle for Nada, Father swung the lantern in a wide arc. The engineer tooted his willingness to stop as he throttled down and applied the airbrakes. If the engineer overlooked Nada in that expanse of dark desert, and he did on rare occasions, we had to keep the rabbits frozen until next night. But that was no problem in the severe winter. When the rabbit demand slackened, cancellation sank. Some of our young bachelor homesteaders were at war. Some persons had "served their time," gained title to their 320 acres, and moved away. The dry phase of the rainfall cycle discouraged some and made them abandon their claims. El Vera went to Salt Lake and took a job. Less and less mail was sent. It became harder to prove that the boom was not continuing. |