PHILLIPS:

This is Andrew Phillips. I'm going to be speaking with Mildred Weimer.

WEIMER:

Weimer.

PHILLIPS:

Weimer.

WEIMER:

Weimer.

PHILLIPS:

W-E-I-M-E-R.

WEIMER:

Uh-huh.

PHILLIPS:

And that's her little dog. (Dog barking in the background.)

WEIMER:

Yes. Is she going to bother you?

PHILLIPS:

Her maiden name I can't pronounce. It is--

WEIMER:

Zmerzlikar.

PHILLIPS:

Spelled Z-M-E-R-Z-L-I-K-A.

WEIMER:

"R."

PHILLIPS:

Sorry. K-A-R. Right. Uh, this is Thursday, it's the first of September.

WEIMER:

Uh, today's the 31st of August.

PHILLIPS:

Oh, I'm sorry.

WEIMER:

Tomorrow's the first.

PHILLIPS:

Today's the 31st of August. We're beginning this interview at eight thirty in the evening. And, uh, it's Interview Number 421 [DP-47]. Okay. So let's start, we'll just, we'll just stop while the little doggie barks. If you could start by just saying your name, the country you immigrated from, and the year of immigration.

WEIMER:

I'm, uh, Mildred Weimer, formerly Zmerzlikar, and I come from Yugoslavia. I came here in August, uh, 1931.

PHILLIPS:

And what year were you born?

WEIMER:

I was born in 1919.

PHILLIPS:

Okay. All right, Mrs. Weimer, could we start by your giving us some sense of your early life back in yugoslavia. What did your parents do for a living?

WEIMER:

Uh, my parents were over there at the time on a vacation and World War Two broke out, so my father couldn't get back to this country. He's a coal miner. And he had to stay until, uh--

PHILLIPS:

That would be World War One, you mean.

WEIMER:

World War One. And he had to stay until the end of the war.

PHILLIPS:

Let me get this straight. Your father in effect, was not Yugoslavian.

WEIMER:

He was Austria-Hungary. I guess that was part of the Austria-Hungary at the time. All right. The part of Yugoslavia that we come from, Yugoslavia was formed into that new country after World War One. And before that, that part was Austria-Hungary. And, uh, so he was not a United States citizen when he went back over for a vacation, and so he had to stay until after the war. And as soon as he saved up enough money to come back to America, he came by himself.

PHILLIPS:

Before we talk about that, I want to get a sense of your early life as a little girl growing up in Yugoslavia.

WEIMER:

Okay. So, uh, we were left, my brother and I were left there. My parents did come back to America and left us there with relatives. And our, uh, relatives were, you know, just peasants, had to work hard, you know, for their living and, uh, I just went to the, you know, Catholic schools and just had a normal, uh, life, very average, like everyone else. (She laughs.)

PHILLIPS:

Tell me, tell me what kind of a house you lived in.

WEIMER:

Uh, all the houses were stucco, you know. And, uh, I never saw a wooden house until I came to this country. You know, I was really surprised that they had wooden houses here. Everything was stucco or brick, you know, over there. And, uh, oh, they had beautiful flower boxes on the outside, you know, and just really neat, clean little places.

PHILLIPS:

And what did the village look like? What do you remember most about the village?

WEIMER:

Uh, the village was, uh, like a small town, and then all the farms that these people, uh, were working on, or owned, were little plots of land here and there on the outskirts and, uh, but they all lived in this little town. It isn't like the farms here, where there's a, you know, individual house on each farm. And, uh, they. uh, oh, had these churches, you know, with big stone walls all around, you know, for protection from the previous wars that they had had. And, uh, at the time, as far as I knew, everybody was Catholic, so they had Catholic schools, you know, everywhere, and that's what I went to is all these Catholic schools. And we, uh, went to school from morning till noon, and then afternoon we had to come home and work on our little farm plots, you know, that our grandparents and relatives owned that we were living with. Oh, gee, what else.

PHILLIPS:

What kind of food did you grow?

WEIMER:

Uh, mostly vegetables and grains. Now, we were so poor that we were not able to, uh, eat, uh, some of the produce, you know, that we raised. We just pretty well lived on grains, vegetables and fruits, and in the wintertime dried nuts and fruits and so on. And, uh, the people did, uh, oh, nearly everybody butchered a hog. That was about their main, uh, meat supply. I don't recall ever eating beef until my father came back to the old country to get my brother and I. That was the first time I ever recall eating beef. The rest of the time we just smoked pork and sausage.

PHILLIPS:

Do you remember actually, the slaughtering of the hog?

WEIMER:

Yes, I do, yes.

PHILLIPS:

Can you tell me about that experience as a little girl?

WEIMER:

Yes. Well, they would lie the hog down on the bench, you know, or table, out in the yard and slit its throat and catch the blood and then they made blood sausage out of all the, you know, with this blood. They didn't waste anything over there. Everything, you know, was salvaged and used one way or another. And I, you know, do remember that, you know. The pigs would be squealing and carrying on till they, you know, just had no life left in them any more. But as far as other meat, you know, we just didn't have other meat.

PHILLIPS:

How about the making of the sausage and the curing of the meat? Were you involved with that as a little girl?

WEIMER:

Not too much, you know. I did watch them cure the sausage. And smoked, but there was a lot of, you know, smoked stuff there. That's about the best way that they had of curing something so it would last a long, long time.

PHILLIPS:

What kind of work were your relatives doing, the people who were looking after you?

WEIMER:

Uh, just farm work and cutting down, you know, trees in the forests. Uh, everybody seemed to own a little plot of land, you know, here and there, and they did cut down the forests, the, you know, trees in the forest, for the lumber that they would sell, and for firewood for themselves. They had no other means of heating, you know, except with wood. And, um--

PHILLIPS:

What was it like for you during the winters?

WEIMER:

The winters were very cold, very cold, lots of snow, and I remember going to school, we had to walk everywhere of course, you know. And sometimes it would be two or three miles or more and we didn't have the warm clothing, you know, that the children have here in this country and I remember how cold I would get, you know. And I'd have to put my hands in my hair to keep it, to keep my fingers from freezing, you know, and so on. It was, um, pretty miserable and, uh, we'd go up into the forest in the wintertime a lot, too, to cut down wood. That's when they would do a lot of that kind of work because in the summertime they had to be, you know, working out in the fields. So most of that kind of work was done in the wintertime up in the forests.

PHILLIPS:

Now, tell me about the schoolhouse and the school environment. What was that like?

WEIMER:

Well, it was very, very strict and we had different classes and I do remember we didn't have books. So everything was written up on the blackboard and we would copy that off on the paper and memorize. Just, we had a tremendous amount of stuff to memorize. And, uh, we had to get out and help cut the wood and stack the wood, you know, for the school. We did a lot of that. And our punishment was very severe if anyone misbehaved in any way. And, but we did really, you know, learn well, regardless of the fact that we were just in school, you know, about four hours out of the day, and then had to come home and work out in the fields, you know. And in the evenings there was so much to do too sometimes that we just didn't have the time to study like, you know, the children do here. So it was, you know, all business. (She laughs.) No fun, when it come to school there. No playground equipment, no nothing like that, you know.

PHILLIPS:

But you must have played some games, all the same.

WEIMER:

Uh, just around the neighborhood, you know, with the other children, once in a while. We didn't have much time for play. Believe you me, there just was not time for that. I never had a toy, or owned a doll in my life. Never. The only thing I remember having was a sled in the wintertime, you know. We'd do sleigh riding. That was our, just about our only recreation.

PHILLIPS:

Were there any occasions during the year when the people in the community, your friends or your relatives, in fact, the older people, did they have any kinds of celebrations?

WEIMER:

Mostly religious. Religious, uh, holidays is when they had the celebrations. And, uh, they did a lot of, uh, you know, participating in different religious activities and so on. That was just about the only, oh, then possibly they had weddings and so on, but I can't remember any, you know, uh, fancy weddings or any celebrations at weddings. Because the village where I grew up in was very poor. They were poor people, and they just didn't have a whole lot. And, uh, But I do remember they had a gramophone, you know, and some records, and they did a lot of polka music and dancing and, you know, that kind of stuff. But there just wasn't a lot of, you know, celebration. Not where I came from.

PHILLIPS:

You were born just at the very end of the First World War so, in a sense, you came out of that. Do you have any recollections, or did your parents, or rather your relatives, talk a little bit about that experience?

WEIMER:

No, no. I do not remember. The only thing I remember would be in the history books at school. That, uh, you know, we were taught about the different wars that they had had, but I really can't remember anything being taught to us about the World War One.

PHILLIPS:

What were you thinking about your parents, because they weren't with you at this point.

WEIMER:

Well, we understood. We were taught, I guess, from a time we were small enough to understand that they were here in this country and that our father had promised that he would come back in ten years to get us, and he did. He came back right ten years later and brought us to this country. And, uh, he passed away about four years later, so we're just very fortunate that we're even here.

PHILLIPS:

Why had he gone to America?

WEIMER:

Well, I guess just for a better life. Just for a better life like anyone else did at that time, you know. People just thought that things were just much better here than what they were there. There was just no future over there, you know.

PHILLIPS:

Had he gone with your mother?

WEIMER:

No. They met, uh, in Salt Lake City, I believe.

PHILLIPS:

So tell me, then, about your experience leading up to your leaving. You were, I think, eleven or twelve years of age when, in fact, you left. So give us a little bit of a sense of that chronology leading up to the time when you left. You must have been now in about your, uh, about sixth grade, or fifth grade at school?

WEIMER:

Possibly the fifth, and I would have been into the, gone into the sixth. And, uh, it was in, uh, July when my father came back. And we didn't know anything about it. It was just a total surprise.

PHILLIPS:

What was going on in your life just before your father came back. You were at school, what kinds of things were happening?

WEIMER:

Um, very much the same. I had lived with my mother's relatives from the time I was six until I was eleven. And when I was eleven I came back to live with my father's relatives in another village and we still weren't told, you know, that my father was coming to get us but, uh, we were told to get our passports and such things as I had to get everything like that ready. I had to be confirmed in a Catholic church before I could come and , uh, as I look back now, these were just all preliminary things that had to be done and arranged before we could come to this country. And so, uh, when my father came it was just a total surprise. My brother and I were out in the field and, uh, my uncle came and told us that, uh, he had a surprise for us, and told us to go home immediately and took us home, and we didn't know then what the deal was until we walked in the house and there was our dad. And what a surprise. It was just, you know, indescribable.

PHILLIPS:

You recognized him?

WEIMER:

Yep. Well, yes. You know, of course we did. And there were already, you know, may people there in the house that had heard about him coming and so it was, you know, quite emotional, quite a wonderful feeling and he stayed there for about a week, you know, and visited and so on while he got everything ready for us. And then one day it was time to leave and we got on a wagon, and someone took us by horse and wagon down to the, uh, next village where we got on the train and took the train through Austria and into France and so on and up to Le Harve, I guess is what the name of the little town was where we were supposed to board the ship.

PHILLIPS:

Can you, I'd like, before you tell us about that I'd like to hear a little bit about the wagon ride, which must have taken a few days. But before you tell me that, what was the name of the village that, in fact, you were staying in? You mentioned your mother's village and your father's village.

WEIMER:

My mother's village was named Dolenja Vas.

PHILLIPS:

Spell that for me.

WEIMER:

D-O-L-E-N-J-A, Dolenja. Vas, V-A-S. That means village. And, uh, that was my mother's. And, oh, many miles away, I don't know how far away, uh, was my father's, uh, people, you know, in the village that they lived in. And that was Strohing, S-T-R-O-H-I-N-G. And, uh, nearest town where we, uh had to go to board, you know, to get on the train, was Kranj, K-R-A-N-J. And, um--

PHILLIPS:

Tell me about getting on that wagon and leaving home and leaving your friends. What were you feeling?

WEIMER:

Um, I can't really recall much of anything except telling our old grandmother and uncle and aunt that, uh, we left, you know, there. And the other people, I guess we just told them "Goodbye." And my, uh, grandmother, you know, gave us that last, uh, bit of advice to, uh, not forget that there is a God. You know, my father had kind of turned against the religion and so, uh, she was afraid, I guess, that he was going to turn us against religion, too. And people over there are so deeply, deeply religious. And she says that that was the last remember I remember her saying. "Don't forget there is a God." And that's all I really remember. And then we just, uh, I guess my father was up with the driver, you know, talking, and my brother and I were sitting there in the back of the wagon and, uh, rode to the train station.

PHILLIPS:

You talked about being confirmed into the Catholic church. Could you tell us a little bit about that day that you were confirmed, and that process, your confirmation?

WEIMER:

Yes. I had a cousin that used to live in America and they moved back to this Dolenja Vas where my mother's parents were. And, uh, apparently my, uh, mother's parents were notified that they wanted me to be confirmed before I came to this country, and so this cousin, she was, oh, twenty, twenty-one. I was only about ten, about the time. And she was supposed to be my sponsor, and we went on the train down to Zagreb and, uh, that's where we, uh, you know, I was confirmed. And it was quite an exciting experience, you know, going by train. Because before that I had always walked everywhere. And, um, but I do remember when I had to leave my, my parents first left me with some German people until I was six years old, and then I was sent to go with my mother's family. And I was so heartsick and heartbroken and cried and ran away while they were all visiting and took off down the road, you know. Thought I'd get back to the village where I'd come from. And I was just six and I was so, you know, heartbroken that I was going to be left there with these old people. (She laughs.) And, um, so everywhere we went we always walked, no matter how far. And at one time this, my grandmother decided to take me back to the village that I was, you know, taken from when I was six, and we had to walk across mountains and across a huge river about the size of Columbia. And my grandma yelled across the river for the men to come and fetch us with a boat and he came over and got us with a boat and took us, and, across. And then we went on, and then finally we came to this village, and it was, you know, such a wonderful experience to be back with the people that I had been with ever since I was little, you know, a little tot.

PHILLIPS:

These were the German people.Yes, yeah. They were German people that my parents left me with. And then I went over to live with my mother's people. And then I had to go back and stay with my father's people just before he came to bring us over here. So I, you know, had quite a life over there. And I do remember the country. It was such a beautiful country. Beautiful, beautiful flowers and green, everything was green and gorgeous. Forests and so on. You never saw any of the desert, you know, like we have here, and so on. It's absolutely fabulous. And I would just love to be able to go back some day. But I have never been able to so far.

PHILLIPS:

Tell me about the wagon trip and train trip to Le Harve. What did you see on the way? What did you experience? What do you remember?

WEIMER:

You know, I can't really remember a whole lot. All I know is that these trains had these old, hard, wooden benches, you know. And, uh, how we looked out of those windows on the trains and got cinders in our eyes, and the smell of that, you know, smoke from the train, and the beauty of the country, you know. Different country, you know, that we, uh, saw and went through. And, uh, I know my father must have thought we were crazy, you know. We were probably all black in our faces, because we just had to look out the windows, you know, to see what, everything that we could. And I remember the stations when the vendors would come by with fresh fruit and so on. I had never seen a banana or a peach, anything like that, you know. And, uh, oh, gosh, we were so hungary. Everything looked so good to us because we didn't have anything but the very simplest of food, you know. And, uh, so it was, you know, just really a great experience. Any simple little thing, you know, just meant so much. And then on the ship, you know, they had all this good food and everything was just so delicious and we were so hungry, and got terribly seasick, and we weren't able to eat, and yet we still did. (She laughs.) And it was, um, you know, the most exciting experience, I guess, we have ever experienced in our lives. It was just tremendous.

PHILLIPS:

You and your brother.

WEIMER:

Me and my brother. My brother had a very hard life over there, though. He had to work so hard. And he was hired out to other, you know, people. And, uh, when he was about thirteen and he had to just work like a full-grown man, hired hand. And work over there was very hard because everything's, you know, done the hard way, by hand. There's no machinery, no, you know, no easy way to do anything. So he had a very hard life and, uh, he just never had a desire to go back. And so it was very exciting, you know, for us, that we were actually able to leave the old country. And I remember when I wasn't, didn't show for school one day, and the teacher came and she grabbed a hold of my hair and shook me and screamed at me, you know, because I had missed some schooldays. And I told her that I, uh, you know, uh, was going to go to America, and I had to, uh, of course, I used that as an excuse. At that time I really wasn't sure. But I had to get some things, uh, prepared, you know, for that. And she says, "You're never going to go to America. Just take my word for it." You know, and, "You're just, this is, that's nothing but talk. You're never going to go." And she slammed me into my seat. You know, this is how things were over there. And, um, but that summer, you know, we were able to leave. And I often wondered what she thought that following school year when we didn't show up and she found out we did go to America.

PHILLIPS:

So tell me about, uh, the trip to America. You had your birthday on the boat.

WEIMER:

I had my birthday on the boat. Of course, we travelled third class, you know, but to us it was luxury, let me tell you. It was so exciting. So much to see and do, you know, on there. And, of course, you know, we played shuffleboard and all the, you know, fun things. It was just fun watching people and trying to learn a few words of English and, uh, just, you know, um, and the meals, you know. We'd go down to the dining room and the good food that we had never seen or heard of, you know. And it wasn't elaborate, now that I look back, but it was just delicious, you know. Everything was just so great and so wonderful. And we were with our dad, and he was so good to us. It's the first time in our lives that we had, you know, our own father. And he was so good to us, and it was just so marvelous that it was just an indescribable experience, that's all. I can, you know, just really fabulous. And then, well, as I was going to say, you know, when we got off the ship, then we went over to Ellis Island and had to stay there. My brother had some kind of eye problem, I believe, or was it hearing? I don't really recall. And he almost got sent back. And, uh, so that was, you know, kind of a scary experience. And I don't know how my father worked that out so that, uh, he wasn't, and he was able to stay.

PHILLIPS:

How long were you on Ellis Island?

WEIMER:

I really don't know how long we were on Ellis Island. You know, that was fifty some odd years ago and, um, probably a couple of days. I don't really know. Maybe it was longer. I just have no idea how long we were there. Now, my brother would probably remember more of what, how long we were there. But, uh, I remember we were herded into these rooms, and everybody had to strip down, you know, completely strip. And, uh, women in one room and, I guess, men in another room and so on. They, I guess, just wanted to check everybody over and make sure that they weren't bringing in any disease, or what have you. You know, it never was explained to me at the time what it was all about. But it was, you know, kind of an unpleasant experience. But, you know, it's something that you just take for granted. You don't think nothing of it.

PHILLIPS:

And what happened next?

WEIMER:

Well, then I, we got on the train and started coming across the country to Price, Utah. And, uh, I don't really remember too much about the train except that I couldn't get over the desert-looking land, you know, a lot of it, you know, was desert and dry. And, uh, little houses here and there and houses made, you know, out of wood. And I do remember that for some reason. And it was, you know, just a really pleasant trip. If we had any hardships, we sure didn't think anything about it, because we'd been used to so many hardships. So, uh, then we came to Price, Utah and one of my father's friends came and picked us up and took us home, up to the coal camp. "Bodus" was the name of it. Where we, uh, lived, where my father worked in the coal mine at the time.

PHILLIPS:

I'm going to turn the tape over.

WEIMER:

Okay. END OF SIDE ONE BEGINNING OF SIDE TWO

PHILLIPS:

This is side two of our interview with Mildred Weimer, Interview Number 421 [DP-47]. So tell me something about life in this coal mining village in Utah.

WEIMER:

Well, um, it was very disappointing, very depressing, and I believe the reason why is when we came here we were, you know, really not welcome. My, our mother just did not seem to want us. And, uh, we got a very cold reception and got treated very poorly. And, by her and the other brothers and sisters that were, you know, born here in the meantime.

PHILLIPS:

Was this a stepmother, or--

WEIMER:

No, she was our real mother. And, um, so my brother and I were just really, uh, just felt like water out of, a fish out of water. And we didn't belong, we didn't know the language. She didn't, uh, want us around, she was very, uh, unhappy over the fact that she had two more mouths to feed and, um. she didn't want my brother to go into school. My father wanted him to go to school to learn to read and write the English language and speak, and she didn't want that. She wanted him to go into the coal mines and work. And it was a very, very hard time for us. And we just wished that we could just go back to the old country, you know. We didn't feel welcome. We didn't know, uh, you know, which way to go. It was, uh, quite rough. But, uh, and it was very barren, you know. A little village there. Little itty bitty houses, you know, that were run by the coal mine companies and, uh, they had a small school and that's just about it, you know. We didn't live too far away from, uh, the mountains, where we could go and get wood. So we'd, uh, go up into the mountains every weekend and drag down wood, and my brother would cut the wood up and stack it to get our heat in the wintertime. Of course, we had some coal, too, but we did heat mostly with wood. And we, uh, did start the school and the first, uh, we started in the first grade. And the first year we went up, all the way up to the sixth grade. They just kept putting us, moving us on up. Um, so at the end of the year we, uh, were in the sixth grade, and we had picked up quite a bit of English and learned, you know, a little bit how to read and how to write. So--

PHILLIPS:

Of course, you were at this, you were twelve or thirteen years of age, in fact, you'd already done all that schooling back in--

WEIMER:

Uh, well, arithmetic was really the only thing that we knew that we, you know, didn't have any problems with, but English and reading and speaking and writing and so on, we had none of that, you know, so we had to learn that. And we had very good, patient teachers, you know, that helped us a lot, and it was, uh, nice. And the children treated us well. And my brother was sixteen, you know. So it was kind of hard for us, you know, to start into that, um, first grade, you know, and be in there with those little kids and everybody, you know, looking at us and thinking, "Well," you know, "isn't this something." So, um, but otherwise, you know, there was just nothing to do in that little village, you know. It was just very, very, um, quiet time, not, no recreation, no anything. We just didn't have anything. So I just, uh, don't really have, you know, any good memories of that part at all. And my father began to, uh, feel ill, so he decided to leave coal mining and he came to Grand Junction, Colorado to look for a little piece of land, a little farm or something. And he found this, uh, this place near Grand Junction, and so he quit coal mining, and we moved on that little farm. And life was still so miserable. And when I was thirteen and a half, not quite fourteen yet, I ran away from home because I just couldn't take it any more. And I was able to speak enough English then to describe, you know, my home situation and how miserable and unhappy it was. And, uh, I got in touch with some good American people that, you know, helped me a lot, saw to it that I continued going to school and get my education. And that's, you know, just about the way it was.

PHILLIPS:

Did you ever go home again?

WEIMER:

I did go home a couple of times, but I never, you know, really felt welcome. And so I just then finally gave it up. And, but I did communicate with my other brothers and sisters occasionally. So, uh, then our father died and when he did, why, one of the neighbors called me where I was living at the time with some people and called and told us that, uh, told me that he had passed away. And so this lady that I was living with at the time took me to the funeral so I could at least go to the funeral. And I felt quite badly about that because I felt like that, you know, my father probably thought it was a mistake to have brought us here to this country and that, uh, he shouldn't have, you know, bothered to bring us here. That seems like life was so unhappy for us. And I really, uh, you know, did hold that against my mother because I always, I wanted him so to know, you know, that I did love him and appreciate what he did for us, but I never had a chance to express that. So, uh, then my mother committed suicide eventually. And so we went over to, we did, my husband and I did go to her funeral but, uh, I didn't want to go, but he insisted that I go, and I never felt like, you know, right about that. I just wished, you know, afterwards that I had never gone. So my life was, you know, very unhappy here until I met my husband and he, uh, you know, he was just the light of my life. I was very fortunate, considering my background and ignorance and circumstances, how green and dumb I was about, you know, life and everything in general that I was, uh, fortunate to meet such a wonderful person.

PHILLIPS:

How did that happen? How did you meet him?

WEIMER:

Well, I was going to high school and, uh, his younger brother was in some of my classes. And so, uh, we just, you know, I dated his younger brother, and that's how I met his older brother. We all went to the same place, to a dance. And, uh, well, maybe it was a month or two later, you know, that we started dating. And, uh, it just, you know, seemed like, uh, he was the one for me, and that's the way it was, you know. We celebrated our fiftieth anniversary last September.

PHILLIPS:

So your brother, in the meantime, well, not in the meantime, that you, when you ran away, was he still living at home?

WEIMER:

He was still living at home, and they had this fourteen acre farm and they had no machinery. Everything had to be done, you know, by hand, like you did in the old country. So he was out working all the time. So my mother kind of laid off and left him, uh, alone then, because he was able to take over, and he was old enough that he could learn how to drive a car and get the family around, you know. And so my father got a car, and he learned how to drive, my brother. And, so he was beginning to be, you know, useful around the place. And, uh, his life wasn't too hard then and, until after my dad died. And then my brother went to work in uranium mines, and he kind of kept the family going until, uh, the children, you know, got older and, uh, grew up, and were able to start kind of fending for themselves, you know. And then the World War Two broke out so one of my younger brothers and this brother that came to this country with me both went into the service. And Raymond, this older brother that, uh, you know, was in the old country with me. He went into the navy, and his nerves were so bad. He, uh, had to get an honorable discharge. He wasn't in very long. And then he came back out and went back into the uranium mines and worked and, uh, from there on, you know, he's just worked, you know, one job or another. And, uh, you know, his life got better. He began to make a good living and he was, um, doing okay.

PHILLIPS:

How long did he work in the uranium mines?

WEIMER:

Oh, gosh, probably five, six years. Yeah. And then uh, --

PHILLIPS:

Where did he work?

WEIMER:

In Nucla, yeah, near Moab, Utah, in Nucla. So, uh, and up around Uravan.

PHILLIPS:

Nucla? N-U-C-L-A?

WEIMER:

Yeah. N-U-C-L-A. And that's in, uh, Colorado, too. That's up near Uravan. Uravan was another mine where he had worked.

PHILLIPS:

How do you spell that?

WEIMER:

U-R-A-V-A-N. And, um, then my father-in-law was superintendent of Mesa County Road Department and when my brother needed a job, well, by that time he just couldn't take this mining any more, so he needed a job. My father-in-law gave him a job with the Mesa County Road Department, and taught him how to run the big, big, road machinery, and that really, you know, helped him then. From that time on, he was always able to get good paying jobs. And, uh, and he finally got married when he was forty-two and got a really good, good wife. And, but she passed away here a couple of years ago. So he's living alone down in Cortez, Colorado, all by himself, and doing real well. You know, so everything turned out, you know, great for the two of us in the long run. But it was, you know, rough go for a long time.

PHILLIPS:

Okay. I think, is there anything else you'd like to share with us? There must be a lot, but anything in particular?

WEIMER:

I don't know, except that, uh, I have five fine children and four of them live in Seattle and they're all doing real well. And I have a daughter that lives in Arvada and she's well-educated and doing great, has a very good husband and a nice little girl, so that's just about it. You know, when my husband retired from this packing company down in Pueblo, we lived in Pueblo for thirty some odd years, then we decided to come up here to Greeley where our daughter was living with her little new baby, and we decided to come up here, and we've just been here ever since.

PHILLIPS:

How long was that?

WEIMER:

Uh, we moved up here in '78. Yeah. And then my husband got cancer and he passed away last June.

PHILLIPS:

Okay. Well, I think we--

WEIMER:

And that's probably about it, you know. (She laughs.) I can't really think of anything else that, uh, but I would love to go back to the old country some day. I still remember it vividly in my memory the way it was, but now I suppose It's probably completely different. And, but I would still love to go back and see it. And, uh, this daughter that lives in Arvada said that she was going to take me back. So perhaps I'll get to realize that dream.

PHILLIPS:

Okay. That brings us to a close on Interview Number 421 [DP-47]. It's 9:15 PM.