Lawrence Alexander Burrow

1909-1988

Charles Jacob and Mabel (Galloway) Burrow with baby Lawrence, 1910.

"Rattlesnake Bluff"

Larry described his early years, in a 1981 letter to sister Joyce:

"Dad and my mother were married in Des Moines [Washington] in 1907. Her folks were living in Des Moines at the time. Sometime between Dad's marriage and my birth they moved to the Okanogan where Dad took up a homestead near Riverside at a place called Rattlesnake Bluff. Understand they had to lug water up the bank for 300 feet to the house. He did not make a success of it. Seems he planted to wheat and some other things but had a bad frost etc. and lost most of it. His horses ran away and then he came down with "lung fever." He gave it up and went to work in a logging camp at Havillah for a while. Its located just south of the Canadian border near Lake Okanogan. I'm confused to where they went from there but Dad mentioned they were in Sumas and Nooksack when I was a baby. Also he said they were on a cattle ranch near Tule Lake in northern California for a while where he took care of the horses and all the riding stock…. Think they then returned to Des Moines where Dick was born [August 21, 1911]."

Larry's mother Mabel recounted an incident at the homestead, in a 1969 letter to Larry:

Richard and Lawrence Burrow, Des Moines, Washington, 1913.

Living in Des Moines and Seattle

Larry's folks, Charlie and Mabel, separated and were later divorced, in 1914. Larry stayed with his father. He later recalled:

"Dad had a small farm like nearly every one else did those days and was located on the road that goes up the hill from Des Moines to Zenith and just north of where the Masonic home is now. I remember hoeing beans and spuds on it. And picking up rocks, and rocks, but not the right kind. Dad worked in the woods as a lumberjack and a boom man and I remember going out to the logging operations. My main interest was the cookhouse and mess hall where the cooks treated me first class. When Dad was on the boom I would sometimes go out on it and naturally I would eventually fall off and have to be fished out with a pike pole, this was before I could swim. The dumping of the logs into the water and the storms uncovered many agates along there and we had quart mason jars full of them filled with water all over the house."

Larry and Dick later moved with their Dad to Seattle but continued to spend weekends and summers at Des Moines, either with their aunts and uncles or camping along the beach. Larry attended Youngstown Elementary School and West Seattle High School. He quit school during his junior year to help his Dad who had been hit by a car while working on the streetcar tracks. Larry got a job as a roustabout in a broom factory for $12.50 a week.

Larry Burrow, Seattle, 1928.

North to Alaska, and back - about 17 times

Not seeing much of a future in broom making, Larry soon enrolled in radio operator's school at the Seattle YMCA. He passed his FCC license exam on May 29, 1929 and was immediately hired as a radio operator on the passenger ship SS Queen. He sailed the following morning, making round trips from Seattle to Southeastern Alaska ports every two weeks for the next eight months. Regular ports of call were Ketchikan, Wrangell, Petersburg, Juneau, Sitka and Skagway.

Queen, docked at Chilkoot Barracks, Haines, Alaska, 1929.

The Queen was built at Philadelphia for the Pacific Coast Steamship Company in 1882. Originally named Queen of the Pacific, the iron hulled steamer was 330 feet long, with a 38.5 foot beam and displacement of 1,697 tons. She was sold for scrap to a Japanese company shortly before World War II.

Starting an Army career in Alaska

In February 1930, after the Queen was laid up due to the worsening economic depression, Larry joined the Alaska Communications System (ACS), then known as the Washington Alaska Military Cable and Telegraph System (WAMCATS), a branch of the US Army Signal Corps. The unit, headquartered in Seattle, was established by Congress in 1900 with the primary purpose of linking Army garrisons scattered throughout Alaska Territory. By 1930, the system, which operated on a paying basis, was handling all manner of government communications as well as commercial traffic. As over-the-air radio transmitters replaced submarine cables and land lines, which were largely phased out by the mid 30s, radio operators were increasingly in demand.

Larry was initially assigned to the ACS radio station at Fort Lawton in Seattle. When the main submarine cable to Alaska broke in May 1930, Larry was assigned, due to his marine operator experience, to the Army cable ship Dellwood, which was dispatched to make repairs.

US Army cable ship Dellwood

Subsequently, Larry was based at ACS stations in Nome, Candle, Sitka and Ketchikan. Near the end of World War II, he was stationed on Adak and Umnak Islands in the Aleutian Island chain. He retired from the ACS in Seattle in 1956.

Shipped to Nome on the "Vic"

In October, 1930, Larry was transferred to the ACS radio station at Nome, sailing from Seattle aboard the Alaska Steamship Company's Victoria, the "Old Vic," one of the most renowned ships in Pacific Northwest and Alaska marine history.

Launched as the Cunard Line's Parthia at Dumbarton, Scotland in 1870, Victoria was originally designed for the emigrant trade between Ireland and the United States. Her hull was constructed of hand wrought, inch thick, iron plates, which later proved superior in ice-breaking capability during her many years in the Alaska trade.

As Parthia, she served 15 years in the North Atlantic trade, with brief service as a British troopship during the Egyptian campaign of 1881, then was sold to John Elder & Company and placed in service on runs to Australia, the Hebrides and South America. In 1887, she was sold to the Canadian Pacific Railway Company and operated in the Vancouver-Orient service until, after overhaul in England, she was renamed Victoria and returned to the Pacific in 1892 under the ownership of the North Pacific Steamship Company, taking time to make three voyages as a US Army troopship during the Spanish-American War, and also to journey to Nome during the height of the Alaskan gold rush. She was sold to the Northwestern Steamship Company in 1903. During the Russo-Japanese War of 1905 she served as a blockade runner, carrying supplies to the Russian port of Vladivostok.

Victoria, in the Bering Sea ice, led the traffic into Nome each spring.

When the Northwestern Steamship Company merged with the Alaska Steamship Company in 1908, Victoria hoisted the Black Ball flag that she was to carry until her last offshore voyage in 1952. She sailed as a passenger liner until 1937, when she was retired. War demands, however, brought about her conversion to a freighter in 1940 and she provided service to Alaska throughout the war and after. In 1954, with the advent of containerized cargo handling, she was reduced to the ignominious role of a barge. Renamed Straits Maru, in 1956 she was loaded with scrap iron and towed to Japan for dismantling.

Passing Flyers

Nome became a crossroads of international flying in the early 1930s, as a number of aviators passed through on various long distance flights. On June 30, 1931, Wiley Post and Harold Gatty, eastbound from Khabarovsk, Siberia, landed their plane Winnie Mae on the beach twenty miles east of Nome at Solomon, where they refueled and continued on to New York and an around-the-world speed record.

Harold Gatty and Wiley Post, Solomon, Alaska, June 30, 1931.

In their book, "Around the World in Eight Days," Post described the scary takeoff from Solomon:

"With 100 gallons of fuel aboard, we started to take off. Taxiing back along the beach, the ship started to sink into the sand. With a quick thrust I banged the throttle open to pull her through it before we were stuck. But all I succeeded in doing was to boost the tail up into the air. With a loud slap the propeller cut a hole in the sand and bent both tips on the blades. I cut the emergency switch just in time to keep 'Winnie Mae' from making an exhibition of herself by standing on her nose. That would have been fatal to our hopes.
"I jumped out and surveyed the damage. With a wrench, a broken-handled hammer, and a round stone, I drew out the tips of the blades so they would at least fan the air in the right direction.
"But misfortunes never come singly. Harold was swinging the prop for a prime with the switch cut to restart the hot engine. He called 'all clear' to me, and I switched on and whirled the booster. One of the hot charges of gasoline caught on the upstroke of the piston, and with a back fire the Wasp kicked. The propeller flew out of Harold's hands, and the blade opposite smacked his shoulder before he could jump clear of the track. He dropped like a log. It was fortunate, to say the least, that it was the flat side of the blade which hit him, though it gave him a bad bruise and a wrenched back. If the prop had been going the other way, he might have been sliced in two.
"Like a major, Harold climbed in as soon as he had recovered his senses, and we took off for Fairbanks. I was cautious as I had ever been on that run along the shifting sands of Solomon beach. Luck was with me, and we got away without misfortune No. 3. I hope we didn't leave it behind for the next bird who lands there!"

The damaged prop was replaced in Fairbanks with a spare obtained from Alaska Airways.

Lucky Lindy drops in

Other would be around-the-world flyers arrived a few weeks later, on August 11, when Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh landed their pontoon-equipped monoplane Sirius on the lagoon at Safety Harbor, twelve miles east of Nome. Larry described their visit:

"When the Lindberghs came thru on their trip to China Mrs Lindbergh was the operator. She was a beginner but sure bitten by the radio bug. They were in Nome 3 days and every day she was up at the station wanting to know more about radio. She was very nice. When they took off and headed toward Siberia I held contact until they reached the Siberian coast and she said 'good bye I'm going to try contacting the Russians.'"

Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Nome radio station, August, 1931.

Rather than seeking new speed records, the Lindberghs were exploring potential air routes to the Orient for Pan American Airways. They had flown north from New York, taking the "great circle" route, up the west side of Hudson's Bay, then westward along the north coasts of Canada and Alaska before crossing to Asia. After reaching Tokyo, they interrupted their trip to assist the National Flood Relief Commission, flying mercy missions and survey flights over recently flooded areas in China. In her book, "North to the Orient," Anne wrote about the premature end of their flight at Hankow:

"It was to be our last flight over the flooded areas. The British airplane carrier Hermes was leaving in the morning and we with it. For it had been our home at Hankow. When we arrived, two or three days before, we hoped to anchor in a sheltered bend of the river or in a lake or flooded field. But there were no lakes, and the floods immediately around the city had subsided too much for us to land over fields. The river, although still swollen, and dangerously swift and turbulent, was the only place to anchor. Here we came down and taxied up to the Hermes, mooring first to a long rope trailed from its stern. But the plane, although securely tied, swung from side to side in the current, right in the path of the Chinese junks which came down the river. Fearing it would be rammed at night, the captain of the Hermes offered to take the Sirius on board, hoisting it up from the water with harness and tackle as they did their own seaplanes….
"My husband climbed into our cockpits while the Sirius was still on deck. A mechanic stood on each wing. Both wore life preservers, for the Yangtze has a bad reputation. 'No one,' we were told in Hankow, 'who goes under its yellow surface, ever comes up again.'
"… I felt relieved when finally, after a slow descent, we touched the water. Headed upstream, the idling motor now quickened to a roar, we seemed safely launched. The men started to lift the ring of our harness from the derrick hook….
"'No slack - can't do it!' We were drifting rapidly further from the ship, the cable already taut. My husband, opening the throttle, tried to work back upstream. But the plane had already swung in the wind sidewise to the current. We were only pulling away from the carrier. The cable stretched tauter. He closed the throttle, and cut the switch. No use. We turned still more to the side. Out of control. Current pulled against cable. Something had to go.
"Down went the wing. Its tip touched the water and went under, an enormous paddle … forcing us over.
"I pushed the [life preserver] lever and jumped. The wing darkened above me as I went under….
"Quite typically I had not pressed the lever far enough. It did not matter. I had come up and was swimming along easily. With yards of deflated life preserver dragging after me. Looking around quickly, I saw my husband just behind. The two men from the Hermes were alongside of us. We were swept downstream to the lifeboat, where we climbed on board and wiped our faces."

Sirius, Lotus Lake, Nanking, China, September, 1931.

The damaged Sirius was raised from the Yangtze and carried to Shanghai on the deck of the Hermes, then shipped to the Lockheed Aircraft factory in California for repairs. The Lindberghs also went home by boat.

Larry meets Aileen

As later recounted by Larry:

"One day in the latter part of November or first part of December 1932 while on duty at the radio station at Nome, Mrs. Woods the wife of the Operator in Charge called my attention to a telegram that we had just received. It was a wire to the Nome school board saying a new school teacher would be arriving soon. Mrs. Wood said, 'now there is a nice girl for you.' Asked her how she knew. Mrs. Wood said she knew her family in Ketchikan. Mrs. Wood was raised at Craig, Alaska, the daughter of a missionary. Craig was only about a hundred miles from Ketchikan and all the mail was routed to and from Craig through Ketchikan.
"I didn't give it any more thought, just that another married woman was trying a little match making. A few days later Mrs. Wood said the new teacher was on the way and that her name was Aileen Spaeth. My reply was, 'So what?' I should have known better, you can't fight city hall.
"On New Year's Eve one of the big dances of the year is held. That is where I first saw Aileen. Like any new face in town and especially a school marm, they are much sought after. I think the ratio of men to women (unmarried) was about 10 to 1 which included the older high school girls. School teachers and nurses if single when they arrived, lasted about one year before they were married. The mortality was high. Had a dance with her. She don't remember it, but I do. Even know the dress she was wearing was a black velvet one..
"During the winter months we had a indoor baseball league which consisted of four men's teams plus a married women's team and a single girl's team. We played our games in a big hall dating from the gold rush days. It was known as the Eagles Hall. Had balcony, box seats plus a big stage. It took four big coal stoves to heat it, one stove in each corner. I was captain of the Federal team, all players were in the Coast Guard, Alaska Reindeer Service, Marshal's Office, Alaska Road Commission and Weather Bureau. One day I was approached by a couple of the girls from the single girls' ball team and asked if I would coach them a little. Seems the married women were beating them all the time. Also they complained that their coach was a married man and his wife was a player and believed pressure was being brought to bear on his coaching by his wife. So I consented to help them out. At the practice was where I met Aileen for the second time. We got acquainted at the practice games which led to dates. Incidentally the girls won the rest of their games with the married women. The biggest dance of the year is 'Washington's Birthday' and held at the Masonic temple. I had been initiated into the Masons the year before so Aileen was my guest. From then on things were pretty much on a going steady basis.

Larry's Overland 6, and dog "Shep" on running board, Nome, 1933.

"During the early spring while there is still plenty snow, but not quite so cold, we could go skiing. Or walk out on the ice and watch the Eskimo women fishing through the ice. Anyway we had a lot of fun. After the breakup and school lets out for the summer most of the single women teachers went outside (to the States. Alaska was still a territory). However that year Aileen and three other teachers decided to stay at Nome. Which suited me fine. All the teachers had boy friends. I had picked up an Overland 6 Coupe. One of the few cars in town. So we had transportation to get out of town to the gold diggings, summer homes and fishing spots.
"One morning I woke up about 3 am smelling smoke. I had bachelor quarters in the radio station and parked my car behind my bedroom window. I looked out and could see smoke coming from it. Was able to put it out. Evidently a match had gotten between the seat and the back and had been smoldering for some time. By this time a couple other men had seen me putting the fire out. They also knew that Aileen had been out to aparty or dance that evening. I always had to make the 1 am weather schedule so I never did get to bed until after 1. Anyway one of the men (one of the other radio operators) spread the word that the reason the car caught fire was the torrid necking that was going on in that car. I never did live it down."

Aileen Spaeth. "Last day of school." Nome, 1933.

Not going to get married

In a May 6, 1933 letter to his stepmother Lila in Seattle, Larry wrote:

"Nope, I'm not going to get hooked by any school-marm, not if I can help it, but, you never can tell, these women have their ways. And the smaller they are the more their ways. Hi! Am I right? Anyway theres no girl in this town I would want to marry. Not that they are not nice girls, because most of em are fine, but she hasn't come along yet. Eleine, thats the school teachers name is older than Me, but then she likes so many things I do and vice versa. She likes to play ball, go hunting, skiing etc. Its just that we have a good time together. Well its getting late now and I am going to take a bath so good nite to you and Dad."

Aileen, at Nome airport with rifle and skis, headed for Candle to get married, September 3, 1933.

But things changed fast. On August 6, Larry was transferred to a one-man radio station at Candle, a small village northeast of Nome near Kotzebue Sound. From there he soon wired his proposal of marriage to Aileen in Nome. She wired back her acceptance, quit her teaching jog, and flew to Candle where they were married. Larry wrote to his dad:

"Better get set, and hang on for a surprise. "I'm married". Yep, you are a Father in Law, for the first time, how does it feel? If you feel like I do it's Great. I suppose you wonder who the unlucky girl is that married me. I think I mentioned her name in a letter last spring, but I'm not sure. Anyway I suppose you want to hear more about her. Her name is Aileen, (Was, "Aileen Spaeth") her home is, or was, at Ketchikan Alaska. About as tall as Lila, curly brown hair, age 29 weight 109, likes to go hunting and fishing and likes to go camping, would like to put on trousers and tramp all over the hills and does when we get the chance. Is a U of W graduate, was teaching school, but resigned to become Mrs Larry Burrow, and at present taking good care of me. Incidently, I think I'm going to get fat, because Pop, she is a good cook. Last nite had for supper potatoes and gravy, Fried young wild Duck, Blue-berry shortcake, and other things. We are going out this evening and try to get some Ptarmigan. Also pick some more blueberries and cranberries. The cranberries are about the size of currants, and blueberries same size a huckelberry is.
"We were married here, in Candle four days ago Sept 3 by the U.S. Commissioner after she had flown from Nome to marry me. As Candle is practically on the Arctic Circle we can say we were married on the Circle. Have been so busy getting straightened out ready for the winter havn't had much chance to write. The last boat will be at Keewalik tomorrow, they have to freight all the supplies up in flat bottomed scows and pull em over shallows etc to get up river to Candle. Keewalik is at the mouth of the Keewalik River, and Candle is about ten miles up river. Our next boat will be next July. Don't know whether we will have airplane mail service this year or not from Nome. Heretofore it has been via dog team. But first class mail will be by plane anyway."

To be continued.

Updated: 1/30/98