Maybe it’s because we’re going to the cabin tomorrow.
Maybe it’s because I know I promised Caroline I’d write about growing up at the Chalet.
Maybe it’s because there’s a full moon coming and I’m feeling a bit emotional.
Maybe it’s because Mom’s been sick lately.
Maybe it’s because I came across this blog by a girl who has no idea who I am, who wrote a post full of beauty and grace about her brother, who left this world far too early.
Whatever the reason, I’m feeling compelled to write about Echo. Echo Lake. And Echo Chalet, the resort my dad owned and where I spent my childhood summers.
It occurred to me I don’t remember my first summer there. I was only four. Nearly 50 years ago.
Actually, my time at Echo Lake began in 1950. Seven years before I was born.
Let me explain.
My mother and father were living in Ojai in southern California. My father had just finished a huge construction project for Bush Oil – a guest house that had over 4000 square feet.
And, yes, we believe it was that Bush Oil.
Finishing a project of this caliber brought a huge bonus.
Which afforded them the means to take a skiing trip. In northern California.
They stopped in the San Francisco bay area to visit friends, stopped by a ski shop and saw a brochure.
Or it might have been this one . . .
At any rate, they headed up Highway 50 to a little ski resort called Echo Chalet, owned by Haven “Jorgy” Jorgensen.
But this was 1950. My oldest brother was barely a toddler. My other brother hadn’t been born.
My mother was a gorgeous young woman.
Who only had eyes for my father. She was on vacation with her handsome husband to ski.
Where they met Jorgy, who was quite hospitable, and they enjoyed their two week stay, lodging upstairs at the Chalet.
And then they went home. Back to southern California. Back to Life.
Fast forward, now, to 1955. My parents had added another boy to the family.
They needed to get out of the rat race of southern California. Somewhere quiet, relaxing. A place that would give my troubled father a break.
Mom remembered Placerville, the little town centered on Highway 50 they drove thru on the way to Echo Chalet. A quaint spot in the foothills.
And for a couple of years, the move seemed to do the trick. My father found some peace. Enough, at least, for them to add another child. A daughter. Me!
But I was little more than a toddler when Mom knew the marriage was over.
As a single mother with 3 kids she needed to work. She met this nice man thru mutual friends while playing in a volleyball league. He needed someone to do some typing for him.
Typing of brochures.
For his resort.
Mom remembered Jorgy from her ski trip those many years before. She’s not sure if he remembered her, but she went over to his house and typed up his notes so he could take them to the printer.
Sometime after that, he invited her – along with me and my 2 brothers – to stay in a cabin next to his for the summer. Just a good, old-fashioned, hospitable invitation.
The ‘little brown cabin’ that we stayed in for 2 summers no longer exists. It was right down the path from this large year-round house that Jorgy had built.
I don’t remember a thing about that summer. I was 4, remember.
I don’t remember much about the next summer either.
Except for one day in particular.
September 8, 1963.
It was on that day that Mom married Jorgy on the big cabin’s patio, overlooking the lake.
And that’s how we came to Echo Lake.
Great story Colleen…thank you for sharing such a precious memory with us. Your mom was a true beauty and her daughter definiately has her look.
Hugs,
Regi
What a wonderful romantic story! I love happy endings. Your artwork is lovely. I really like your Pet Portraits…you’re very talented! Dropping by from BlogFrog…
Oh my gosh, this is great!!! How could you stop there….when is the next installment???
Hugs!
~C
PS-Loved all the pics I’ve never seen before…I can just smell that wonderful, piney scent.
Maybe Echo people should follow suit and tell their beginnigs.
And so I shall…
I was hanging out playing beach volleyball in Santa Monica during the summer of 1963. I had just graduated from St. Monica’s High School. The days were full of sand, sun, girls and games and life was good.
Some internal discussions were taking place, behind my back, among various family members and the next thing I knew I was on the road with my mom and her new Hollywood stuntman boyfriend. Apparently he had a friend that owned a resort by Lake Tahoe and they needed help for the summer.
I’ll always remember that first sight of the lake with the Chalet on the right.
Unfortunately I was sent back down the road to the corral where I was under the tutelage of a mad boozehounded cowboy named Bob….dickhead.
My mom and her boyfriend basically dropped me off with a small bag of clothes and said, “enjoy your summer Tim…we’ll see you in September.”
The boozehound gave me a broom and sent me into the barn and told me to clean up because that’s where I would be living for the next two months.
The upstairs area in the barn looked like the last inhabitants had been a family of creatures.
I started to sweep while wondering how long it would take to walk back to Santa Monica. Cowboy Bob called me down to the corral and told me to go get one of the mules and bring him to the gate.
There were ten very pissed off pack mules just waiting for some goofy kid to walk in and try to put a rope around anyone of them. I grew up around horses and I remember how angry they can be after being ignored for short periods of time. These mules had been ignored since the previous summer and I barely got out of the corral as they came charging at me. I’ll never forget boozehound Bob laughing as I jumped the fence. “I thought you said you had horses?” “These aren’t horses, they are mules and like you they are absolutely nuts.” He told me to get back up in the barn and clean up my room and I told him to take the broom and put it somewhere else……he told me to get the hell out. I walked back to the Chalet and Jorgy listened to my story for about two minutes and said I could stay a few days until I figured out how to get home. He said I had to work for the room and board and to go upstairs and find a bed. I spent the next few days working about 12 hours a day and somebody noticed that I worked hard and Jorgy hired me at $1.25 an hour. I was a general flunky and one of the first jobs was to remove a large tree stump from the stable area. I was paired with a short little dude named Butch Conlan who lived on the lake. It took us a week to unearth that stump and Butch and I have been dear friends from that moment on.
At the end of the summer I sat down with Jorgy and after carefully examining the books he told me that I owed him $37.50. He had a list of every meal and anything that I had gotten from the chalet store. I remember him looking at me and saying….”Well I guess you’ll have to come back next year to work off what you owe me.”
The next summer I came back after passing a certification test and was officially a boat boy for Echo Lake.
The summers of 63, 64 and 65 will never be forgotten and the wonderful memories of Echo are forever etched in my mind.
Oh my gosh, I googled Jorgenson Echo Lake and found this. I too have a fond Memory of the Chalet and Jorgy. Although mine, my brother and little begins at echo Corral, you see our father was Cowboy Bob,
as noted above lol. This past weekend my family was at a wedding at tahoe and we took a trip down to Echo and the corral. So many memories came flooding back. like how I would ride my bike down to the chalet on the horse trail to get some lik a maid at the Chalet, The pack trips we took to pack tourists into the Desolation Wilderness. The time I slid down the water covert in front of our house and thought I was going to die. My name is Kathy Hoke , called Kate then, my brother was Jesse. If I recall correclty we were there from 1961-1964.I would enjoy hearing any stories any one would like to share. My siblings and I feel a special bond to Echo Lake.
Love your story!!!!
Echo Laker, Karen Schaefer
Thanks so much, Karen! Are you related to the Shaefers on Echo?
Some memories I’ll never forget..
When I was young my father ” Gary ” took me up to echo all the time as he was a close friend of Jorgy one of the times my dad got a call while we were all home and Jorgy asked if we wanted to go up for a weekend and help get some things ready after the snow around his cabin so we packed up ..my room was upstairs in the ceiling I loved the cubby room it was the closest thing as a kid ..after the work was done dad and Jorgy took me out fishing to a secret spot we had lunch out on the lake ..I think about it every time I drive on echo ..
Hi Rachael! I remember your dad fondly. He used to come over to our house in Placerville a lot. I’m glad he took you to Echo and you have wonderful memories. Thanks so much for sharing.
Be well