Father: John Kinchelow Holt
Mother: Vera Lousie Campbell
First wife: Patrica Ann Brady
Second wife: Faye Hawkins
3rd wife: Helen Marie Richter Reynolds
Children:
Garland L. Holt Jr
David Richard Holt see 66618042
Karen Christine Holt
Robin Ane Holt
This is the story of a Troubled Man. He was my father. But he was also the father and grandfather of others who may be adding to this story.
My father was born Garland Leroy Holt. However, much of his life he was known as “Roy.” His father was John Kinchelow Holt and his mother was Vera Lousie Campbell. He was born into a poor farming family and he did not know his father much. The Depression hit this family hard although it is likely this part of the Holt family never had much anyway.
In his childhood, there were many people at the family dinner table and often too little food. Whenever there was a chicken or turkey, by the time it reached him, all was left was the gizzard and neck. These become his favorite.
Another favorite of his was buttermilk and bread. He would pour a large glass of buttermilk and then put bits of bread (often dryer the better)into the buttermilk. Oddly, I think I am the only member of the family who likes buttermilk now.
Once he and one of his brothers had a disagreement with their mother and "ran away" from home. They walked and got some rides all the way to the farm of a family member in Texas. They remained and worked on the farm for a while. Then his brother returned home. But Roy remained for a while yet. When his relative put him on the train to go home, he was given some money to pay for meals on the train. But Roy used the money to buy candy which he eat all at once and become sick over it. Later in life he never did like sweets.
There is a family story about when dad was a very young child and being put down a water well. He was discovered some hours later by Vera. There is another story about when he and the other “boys” discovered Vera’s supply of moonshine under the house floor boards. Of course, they sample more than a small amount of it. They were very sick. And as this was Vera’s major source of income, she was not very happy about it. Unlike with the candy, dad did like liquor later in life. So what works with candy did not work with liquor.
Times were hard even before the start of the Depression. Farming provided the family food and maybe a little more. It is not known if the family owned their own farm or not. Likely they were farming for others. With the Depression and the Dust Bowl, things become even harder for poor farming families. The coming of the CCC marked a place a young man could go to better himself and leave one less mouth for the family to feed.
Roy joined the CCCs like many young men at the time and then went into the US Army before the start of World War II. He had to lie about his age. For many years his birth year was recorded as 1919. But that was the birth year of his older brother. Actually, we think he was born in 1921 – there is no official record of his birth. Unlike most of the family, Garland did go to school – at least the first 6 or 8 grades. He always said that he did go to school but it was a Saturday and the school was closed.
By today’s standards, his education was poor. But, he did get to the 8th grade and did know how to read and write well, maybe the only one in the childhood family. He also had a number of “gifts”. He could tell what was wrong with a motor by just the sound. He had a green thumb. Once when challenged, it has been said he got a stick to grow by just putting it in the ground. Some of these gifts have been passed down to his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren
Roy liked women. While in the CCCs he had a very good girlfriend which I think was the girl child of the man who owned the farm he was working on. We don't know what happened to that relationship. But it is possible there are some children running around from that. If so, we would like to know them.
We have CCC pictures showing him in the CCC as early as 1937 at age 15 or 16, the reason for his lie of the birth year. He was assigned to the Eighth Corps area, in or around Cleburne Texas and received training in Auto Operation, Typing, Tractor and Truck Operation. Other than Typing, these areas of training had a large impact on his later life. In fact, we did not know he was trained to type until viewing his records.
His army records no longer exist, but it appears he received Basic training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, at the Field Artillery School and was assigned to the 18th Field Artillery. His training was in horsemanship. Later, he was sent to Fort Ord in Monterey California. Fort Ord dates back to the 1846, named Camp Ord in 1933 and Ford Ord in 1940 and established as a permanent Army installation.
Some years later, the following was shared with me by his granddaughter:
"During one episode (of DT) he shared a rather moving story about a young girl he tried to save while he was at War. He became quite attached to this young girl only to watch her being killed. This was very traumatizing for him. Grandma stated to me many times that he was a very different mam when he returned from war. I would suspect that he suffered from post traumatic syndrome as many soldiers do." We do not know if they story is true or not, but it appeared he believed it was.
His first wife was Patricia Ann Brady who while he was in the US Army he met at a local donut shop in San Francisco CA. Patricia was the daughter of a high ranking Army officer. There was much opposition to their dating by her father. It is likely this opposition drove them together, when otherwise the romance would have died. Roy was reassigned to Texas just before it was discovered that Patricia was pregnant. They were married on January 6, 1942. In those days, it was the honor of the man not to leave a pregnant woman unmarried. And, Roy was an honorable man. Although coming from very different worlds, they were in love and had three more children in the years to follow.
Very likely they would not have married if it had not been the opposition of Patricia father, and sense of the pre and early war years. Things were different in the pre-war and war years. There was the sense that the end was near.
Roy would not talk much about his war years. However, we do know he serviced in Italy. It is likely that this period was hard for him.
After Garland got out of the Army, he used the skills he earned in the Army driving trucks and worked as a concrete truck driver. His brother Orville was a concrete finisher at the time, and made arrangements for Roy to be trained as a concrete finisher. This proved to be his occupation for most of his life.
He and Patricia were living in Stockton California where a second son (David Richard, the middle name “Richard” was the name of Patricia’s father) was born on October 1947. They then moved to join his brother Orville in southern California in about 1950. They were living in a housing project in Long Beach California when a daughter was born (Karen Christine, the middle name “Christine” was because she was expected on Christmas day) was born on December 17th, 1950 in Torrance California at Harbor General Hospital. At the time due to lack of work, the family was on aid. However, there was a big housing building period starting in late 1950 due to the GI bill. Under the GI bill, veterans were given low cost financing for buying homes.
As a result the family was able to buy their first home in Torrance California. The 4th and last child, a daughter (Robin Aine, we do not know where the middle name “Aine” came from other than it sounded well) was born on April 29th, 1956 in Torrance.
The building trades was (and is) a up and down occupation. Some years, Roy was able to work more than 40 hours a week, other years, he was out of work for long periods of time. This was hard on him and the family and resulted in them having to sell their first and second homes. Often they had to move in the middle of the night as they could not pay the rent. Also, Patricia had to find work. Roy did not believe a wife should work. It was a hard thing for him not to be able to support his family, Dad believed that he was the head of the family. He did not like mom working or making decisions. Later we learned never to surprise him with a new idea or way of doing things. First, great care was needed to soften him up and lead him to thinking it was his idea.
In the summers when I was older, he would often take me out on his concrete jobs to pour and finish a pool deck or walkway. He had a gift as he could know how much concrete and framing wood would be needed with just a careful look
In June 1961 the family moved to Montana where mom's mother lived as Roy got a good job building missile emplacements. The family moved to Lewistown in the middle of Montana. Roy’s work was hard, and he was away from the family for long periods of time. Montana is very cold, and there isn’t much to do other than drink in the winter.
Due to the war and what is now known as PTSD, Garland Sr. became an alcoholic. For whatever reason, he failed to see that his alcoholism and depression was taking control of him and his wife had to work and become the head of the family. Depression (he may have suffered Bi-Polar cycles of depression and then mania behavior and/or even multiple personalities) in a man is different than in a woman. For a man, this disease often results in anger and abuse of those close to him.
When I was about 8 or 9 years old often he would take me with him to his favorite bar. Each time he would get me a glass of chocolate milk and a pickled egg. I loved the chocolate milk because mom would not buy any for the family. And, even today I like pickled eggs. I remember another thing also. Although he appeared to enjoy talking to his friends, he seemed so alone. He held himself apart from them and their discussions. There was little he shared with these men and most anyone.
He and Patricia were divorced after the family moved to Montana. Over the period of 1963-1964, Roy often found himself homeless, under the power of the alcohol, even sleeping in his truck in the cold Montana winter. Why and how he survived no one knows. In time he was admitted to a VA alcoholic facility in Oregon to dry out and care for his Delirium Tremens (known as DTs). In time he recovered and started on the road to sobriety. With a loan from his oldest son, he recovered his tools and starting back to work, although there were a few setbacks from time to time.
With the exception of two events, he kept his sobriety until he died. The families of his second son David, and his two daughters moved to Oregon to be near him. He was a very different man now. He enjoyed his grandchildren, often taking them fishing and elsewhere. The grandchildren have good memories of him.
After the divorce from Patricia, he married again twice. It was hard for him to "come home" after work and have no one to met him. I fully understand that and share it.
After Patricia, he married Faye Hawkins (I don't know if that was her pre-marriage surname or that from her 1st husband)who had two girls from the prior marriage. Faye was not that good to him. In fact, later she took everything from him that she could - including an unimproved lot of land in AZ that he owned before this marriage. She had no right to this land! Fortunately his girl Karen has taken steps to recover this land.
The last time he remarried was to Helen M. Richter (her prior husband had the surname of Reynolds). And she was very good to and for him. Especially the last days of his life. After Roy died, unfortunately Helen suffered Alzheimer’s. She is buried with her first husband. Thank you Helen for caring so much for him. During these years he enjoyed the Northwest with fishing and being with some of his grandchildren. I think those years were his best.
In early 1987 he visited his drying brother Orville and his oldest son in California and met his youngest grandson for the first and only time. At the time Roy actually was suffering from cancer.
Due to lifelong smoking, he had cancer of the larynx. He knew it was going to kill him although he hid that from most of his family. He died at home on Nov 11th 1987. I talked to him on the phone the night before, and he was ready to go. His ashes were placed at the Willamette National Cemetery in Portland Oregon. I am sure he and his fellow vets there are visiting each other often and telling tall stories about their war years. Also, he is looking over his family here on earth.
I was luckily. As the oldest, I knew him in some of his better days before the illness of alcoholism and the years took their toll. I don’t think my brother and sisters saw as much of the better part of him nor do they fully realize how much of him is within each of us. That is the reason for this story.
The very first thing I remember of my father was his hands. I was born when he was away at war and I don’t think he saw me until I was over a year old. I remember his hands, so big and warm and so different from that of my mother’s. They were the hands of someone who worked hard.
Some months after his death, his 3rd wife Helen give me his old Army compass. The true gift was not the compass, but rather the meaning behind the compass. Dad and I share a natural sense of direction. We rarely need a compass except when we let our pride grow so large that we depend on only this nature sense of direction. For then we become lost.
When I look at my dad’s compass, I am reminded that the Lord can provide us with direction, if we will only look.
Due to the devil of alcoholism and PTSD, dad did many bad things that were hard to forgive. I now know he was feeling very much alone. He had a hard life but in the end made his mark here, including finishing a church floor in Long Beach California and many pools.
Roy was a troubled Man. The reasons that made him troubled are complex and not fully known. It could have been his childhood mostly without a father, the war, his alcoholism, depression, or lack of self-confidence, or all of these. Even those who loved him know that he was a deeply flawed man. He was abusive, often unbending, and got angry over small things. He did many bad things when under the power of alcohol and other illnesses. He was a very lonely man. The alcohol may have been his only friend. A friend who often led him to places and acts he would not have otherwise done. Yet, there was an inner spark of goodness and love.
This was the story of this troubled man. I hope it shows a full and honest picture of this man. Maybe this is the only way to truly understand, and to forgive him. The people who knew him often only saw a part of him, or came to know him only in his later years. We all change, and he did too.
By Garland L Holt Jr.
Note: If you have information, photos or memories that you would like to contribute to this memorial, please contact Garland Holt.
Mother: Vera Lousie Campbell
First wife: Patrica Ann Brady
Second wife: Faye Hawkins
3rd wife: Helen Marie Richter Reynolds
Children:
Garland L. Holt Jr
David Richard Holt see 66618042
Karen Christine Holt
Robin Ane Holt
This is the story of a Troubled Man. He was my father. But he was also the father and grandfather of others who may be adding to this story.
My father was born Garland Leroy Holt. However, much of his life he was known as “Roy.” His father was John Kinchelow Holt and his mother was Vera Lousie Campbell. He was born into a poor farming family and he did not know his father much. The Depression hit this family hard although it is likely this part of the Holt family never had much anyway.
In his childhood, there were many people at the family dinner table and often too little food. Whenever there was a chicken or turkey, by the time it reached him, all was left was the gizzard and neck. These become his favorite.
Another favorite of his was buttermilk and bread. He would pour a large glass of buttermilk and then put bits of bread (often dryer the better)into the buttermilk. Oddly, I think I am the only member of the family who likes buttermilk now.
Once he and one of his brothers had a disagreement with their mother and "ran away" from home. They walked and got some rides all the way to the farm of a family member in Texas. They remained and worked on the farm for a while. Then his brother returned home. But Roy remained for a while yet. When his relative put him on the train to go home, he was given some money to pay for meals on the train. But Roy used the money to buy candy which he eat all at once and become sick over it. Later in life he never did like sweets.
There is a family story about when dad was a very young child and being put down a water well. He was discovered some hours later by Vera. There is another story about when he and the other “boys” discovered Vera’s supply of moonshine under the house floor boards. Of course, they sample more than a small amount of it. They were very sick. And as this was Vera’s major source of income, she was not very happy about it. Unlike with the candy, dad did like liquor later in life. So what works with candy did not work with liquor.
Times were hard even before the start of the Depression. Farming provided the family food and maybe a little more. It is not known if the family owned their own farm or not. Likely they were farming for others. With the Depression and the Dust Bowl, things become even harder for poor farming families. The coming of the CCC marked a place a young man could go to better himself and leave one less mouth for the family to feed.
Roy joined the CCCs like many young men at the time and then went into the US Army before the start of World War II. He had to lie about his age. For many years his birth year was recorded as 1919. But that was the birth year of his older brother. Actually, we think he was born in 1921 – there is no official record of his birth. Unlike most of the family, Garland did go to school – at least the first 6 or 8 grades. He always said that he did go to school but it was a Saturday and the school was closed.
By today’s standards, his education was poor. But, he did get to the 8th grade and did know how to read and write well, maybe the only one in the childhood family. He also had a number of “gifts”. He could tell what was wrong with a motor by just the sound. He had a green thumb. Once when challenged, it has been said he got a stick to grow by just putting it in the ground. Some of these gifts have been passed down to his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren
Roy liked women. While in the CCCs he had a very good girlfriend which I think was the girl child of the man who owned the farm he was working on. We don't know what happened to that relationship. But it is possible there are some children running around from that. If so, we would like to know them.
We have CCC pictures showing him in the CCC as early as 1937 at age 15 or 16, the reason for his lie of the birth year. He was assigned to the Eighth Corps area, in or around Cleburne Texas and received training in Auto Operation, Typing, Tractor and Truck Operation. Other than Typing, these areas of training had a large impact on his later life. In fact, we did not know he was trained to type until viewing his records.
His army records no longer exist, but it appears he received Basic training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, at the Field Artillery School and was assigned to the 18th Field Artillery. His training was in horsemanship. Later, he was sent to Fort Ord in Monterey California. Fort Ord dates back to the 1846, named Camp Ord in 1933 and Ford Ord in 1940 and established as a permanent Army installation.
Some years later, the following was shared with me by his granddaughter:
"During one episode (of DT) he shared a rather moving story about a young girl he tried to save while he was at War. He became quite attached to this young girl only to watch her being killed. This was very traumatizing for him. Grandma stated to me many times that he was a very different mam when he returned from war. I would suspect that he suffered from post traumatic syndrome as many soldiers do." We do not know if they story is true or not, but it appeared he believed it was.
His first wife was Patricia Ann Brady who while he was in the US Army he met at a local donut shop in San Francisco CA. Patricia was the daughter of a high ranking Army officer. There was much opposition to their dating by her father. It is likely this opposition drove them together, when otherwise the romance would have died. Roy was reassigned to Texas just before it was discovered that Patricia was pregnant. They were married on January 6, 1942. In those days, it was the honor of the man not to leave a pregnant woman unmarried. And, Roy was an honorable man. Although coming from very different worlds, they were in love and had three more children in the years to follow.
Very likely they would not have married if it had not been the opposition of Patricia father, and sense of the pre and early war years. Things were different in the pre-war and war years. There was the sense that the end was near.
Roy would not talk much about his war years. However, we do know he serviced in Italy. It is likely that this period was hard for him.
After Garland got out of the Army, he used the skills he earned in the Army driving trucks and worked as a concrete truck driver. His brother Orville was a concrete finisher at the time, and made arrangements for Roy to be trained as a concrete finisher. This proved to be his occupation for most of his life.
He and Patricia were living in Stockton California where a second son (David Richard, the middle name “Richard” was the name of Patricia’s father) was born on October 1947. They then moved to join his brother Orville in southern California in about 1950. They were living in a housing project in Long Beach California when a daughter was born (Karen Christine, the middle name “Christine” was because she was expected on Christmas day) was born on December 17th, 1950 in Torrance California at Harbor General Hospital. At the time due to lack of work, the family was on aid. However, there was a big housing building period starting in late 1950 due to the GI bill. Under the GI bill, veterans were given low cost financing for buying homes.
As a result the family was able to buy their first home in Torrance California. The 4th and last child, a daughter (Robin Aine, we do not know where the middle name “Aine” came from other than it sounded well) was born on April 29th, 1956 in Torrance.
The building trades was (and is) a up and down occupation. Some years, Roy was able to work more than 40 hours a week, other years, he was out of work for long periods of time. This was hard on him and the family and resulted in them having to sell their first and second homes. Often they had to move in the middle of the night as they could not pay the rent. Also, Patricia had to find work. Roy did not believe a wife should work. It was a hard thing for him not to be able to support his family, Dad believed that he was the head of the family. He did not like mom working or making decisions. Later we learned never to surprise him with a new idea or way of doing things. First, great care was needed to soften him up and lead him to thinking it was his idea.
In the summers when I was older, he would often take me out on his concrete jobs to pour and finish a pool deck or walkway. He had a gift as he could know how much concrete and framing wood would be needed with just a careful look
In June 1961 the family moved to Montana where mom's mother lived as Roy got a good job building missile emplacements. The family moved to Lewistown in the middle of Montana. Roy’s work was hard, and he was away from the family for long periods of time. Montana is very cold, and there isn’t much to do other than drink in the winter.
Due to the war and what is now known as PTSD, Garland Sr. became an alcoholic. For whatever reason, he failed to see that his alcoholism and depression was taking control of him and his wife had to work and become the head of the family. Depression (he may have suffered Bi-Polar cycles of depression and then mania behavior and/or even multiple personalities) in a man is different than in a woman. For a man, this disease often results in anger and abuse of those close to him.
When I was about 8 or 9 years old often he would take me with him to his favorite bar. Each time he would get me a glass of chocolate milk and a pickled egg. I loved the chocolate milk because mom would not buy any for the family. And, even today I like pickled eggs. I remember another thing also. Although he appeared to enjoy talking to his friends, he seemed so alone. He held himself apart from them and their discussions. There was little he shared with these men and most anyone.
He and Patricia were divorced after the family moved to Montana. Over the period of 1963-1964, Roy often found himself homeless, under the power of the alcohol, even sleeping in his truck in the cold Montana winter. Why and how he survived no one knows. In time he was admitted to a VA alcoholic facility in Oregon to dry out and care for his Delirium Tremens (known as DTs). In time he recovered and started on the road to sobriety. With a loan from his oldest son, he recovered his tools and starting back to work, although there were a few setbacks from time to time.
With the exception of two events, he kept his sobriety until he died. The families of his second son David, and his two daughters moved to Oregon to be near him. He was a very different man now. He enjoyed his grandchildren, often taking them fishing and elsewhere. The grandchildren have good memories of him.
After the divorce from Patricia, he married again twice. It was hard for him to "come home" after work and have no one to met him. I fully understand that and share it.
After Patricia, he married Faye Hawkins (I don't know if that was her pre-marriage surname or that from her 1st husband)who had two girls from the prior marriage. Faye was not that good to him. In fact, later she took everything from him that she could - including an unimproved lot of land in AZ that he owned before this marriage. She had no right to this land! Fortunately his girl Karen has taken steps to recover this land.
The last time he remarried was to Helen M. Richter (her prior husband had the surname of Reynolds). And she was very good to and for him. Especially the last days of his life. After Roy died, unfortunately Helen suffered Alzheimer’s. She is buried with her first husband. Thank you Helen for caring so much for him. During these years he enjoyed the Northwest with fishing and being with some of his grandchildren. I think those years were his best.
In early 1987 he visited his drying brother Orville and his oldest son in California and met his youngest grandson for the first and only time. At the time Roy actually was suffering from cancer.
Due to lifelong smoking, he had cancer of the larynx. He knew it was going to kill him although he hid that from most of his family. He died at home on Nov 11th 1987. I talked to him on the phone the night before, and he was ready to go. His ashes were placed at the Willamette National Cemetery in Portland Oregon. I am sure he and his fellow vets there are visiting each other often and telling tall stories about their war years. Also, he is looking over his family here on earth.
I was luckily. As the oldest, I knew him in some of his better days before the illness of alcoholism and the years took their toll. I don’t think my brother and sisters saw as much of the better part of him nor do they fully realize how much of him is within each of us. That is the reason for this story.
The very first thing I remember of my father was his hands. I was born when he was away at war and I don’t think he saw me until I was over a year old. I remember his hands, so big and warm and so different from that of my mother’s. They were the hands of someone who worked hard.
Some months after his death, his 3rd wife Helen give me his old Army compass. The true gift was not the compass, but rather the meaning behind the compass. Dad and I share a natural sense of direction. We rarely need a compass except when we let our pride grow so large that we depend on only this nature sense of direction. For then we become lost.
When I look at my dad’s compass, I am reminded that the Lord can provide us with direction, if we will only look.
Due to the devil of alcoholism and PTSD, dad did many bad things that were hard to forgive. I now know he was feeling very much alone. He had a hard life but in the end made his mark here, including finishing a church floor in Long Beach California and many pools.
Roy was a troubled Man. The reasons that made him troubled are complex and not fully known. It could have been his childhood mostly without a father, the war, his alcoholism, depression, or lack of self-confidence, or all of these. Even those who loved him know that he was a deeply flawed man. He was abusive, often unbending, and got angry over small things. He did many bad things when under the power of alcohol and other illnesses. He was a very lonely man. The alcohol may have been his only friend. A friend who often led him to places and acts he would not have otherwise done. Yet, there was an inner spark of goodness and love.
This was the story of this troubled man. I hope it shows a full and honest picture of this man. Maybe this is the only way to truly understand, and to forgive him. The people who knew him often only saw a part of him, or came to know him only in his later years. We all change, and he did too.
By Garland L Holt Jr.
Note: If you have information, photos or memories that you would like to contribute to this memorial, please contact Garland Holt.
Father: John Kinchelow Holt
Mother: Vera Lousie Campbell
First wife: Patrica Ann Brady
Second wife: Faye Hawkins
3rd wife: Helen Marie Richter Reynolds
Children:
Garland L. Holt Jr
David Richard Holt see 66618042
Karen Christine Holt
Robin Ane Holt
This is the story of a Troubled Man. He was my father. But he was also the father and grandfather of others who may be adding to this story.
My father was born Garland Leroy Holt. However, much of his life he was known as “Roy.” His father was John Kinchelow Holt and his mother was Vera Lousie Campbell. He was born into a poor farming family and he did not know his father much. The Depression hit this family hard although it is likely this part of the Holt family never had much anyway.
In his childhood, there were many people at the family dinner table and often too little food. Whenever there was a chicken or turkey, by the time it reached him, all was left was the gizzard and neck. These become his favorite.
Another favorite of his was buttermilk and bread. He would pour a large glass of buttermilk and then put bits of bread (often dryer the better)into the buttermilk. Oddly, I think I am the only member of the family who likes buttermilk now.
Once he and one of his brothers had a disagreement with their mother and "ran away" from home. They walked and got some rides all the way to the farm of a family member in Texas. They remained and worked on the farm for a while. Then his brother returned home. But Roy remained for a while yet. When his relative put him on the train to go home, he was given some money to pay for meals on the train. But Roy used the money to buy candy which he eat all at once and become sick over it. Later in life he never did like sweets.
There is a family story about when dad was a very young child and being put down a water well. He was discovered some hours later by Vera. There is another story about when he and the other “boys” discovered Vera’s supply of moonshine under the house floor boards. Of course, they sample more than a small amount of it. They were very sick. And as this was Vera’s major source of income, she was not very happy about it. Unlike with the candy, dad did like liquor later in life. So what works with candy did not work with liquor.
Times were hard even before the start of the Depression. Farming provided the family food and maybe a little more. It is not known if the family owned their own farm or not. Likely they were farming for others. With the Depression and the Dust Bowl, things become even harder for poor farming families. The coming of the CCC marked a place a young man could go to better himself and leave one less mouth for the family to feed.
Roy joined the CCCs like many young men at the time and then went into the US Army before the start of World War II. He had to lie about his age. For many years his birth year was recorded as 1919. But that was the birth year of his older brother. Actually, we think he was born in 1921 – there is no official record of his birth. Unlike most of the family, Garland did go to school – at least the first 6 or 8 grades. He always said that he did go to school but it was a Saturday and the school was closed.
By today’s standards, his education was poor. But, he did get to the 8th grade and did know how to read and write well, maybe the only one in the childhood family. He also had a number of “gifts”. He could tell what was wrong with a motor by just the sound. He had a green thumb. Once when challenged, it has been said he got a stick to grow by just putting it in the ground. Some of these gifts have been passed down to his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren
Roy liked women. While in the CCCs he had a very good girlfriend which I think was the girl child of the man who owned the farm he was working on. We don't know what happened to that relationship. But it is possible there are some children running around from that. If so, we would like to know them.
We have CCC pictures showing him in the CCC as early as 1937 at age 15 or 16, the reason for his lie of the birth year. He was assigned to the Eighth Corps area, in or around Cleburne Texas and received training in Auto Operation, Typing, Tractor and Truck Operation. Other than Typing, these areas of training had a large impact on his later life. In fact, we did not know he was trained to type until viewing his records.
His army records no longer exist, but it appears he received Basic training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, at the Field Artillery School and was assigned to the 18th Field Artillery. His training was in horsemanship. Later, he was sent to Fort Ord in Monterey California. Fort Ord dates back to the 1846, named Camp Ord in 1933 and Ford Ord in 1940 and established as a permanent Army installation.
Some years later, the following was shared with me by his granddaughter:
"During one episode (of DT) he shared a rather moving story about a young girl he tried to save while he was at War. He became quite attached to this young girl only to watch her being killed. This was very traumatizing for him. Grandma stated to me many times that he was a very different mam when he returned from war. I would suspect that he suffered from post traumatic syndrome as many soldiers do." We do not know if they story is true or not, but it appeared he believed it was.
His first wife was Patricia Ann Brady who while he was in the US Army he met at a local donut shop in San Francisco CA. Patricia was the daughter of a high ranking Army officer. There was much opposition to their dating by her father. It is likely this opposition drove them together, when otherwise the romance would have died. Roy was reassigned to Texas just before it was discovered that Patricia was pregnant. They were married on January 6, 1942. In those days, it was the honor of the man not to leave a pregnant woman unmarried. And, Roy was an honorable man. Although coming from very different worlds, they were in love and had three more children in the years to follow.
Very likely they would not have married if it had not been the opposition of Patricia father, and sense of the pre and early war years. Things were different in the pre-war and war years. There was the sense that the end was near.
Roy would not talk much about his war years. However, we do know he serviced in Italy. It is likely that this period was hard for him.
After Garland got out of the Army, he used the skills he earned in the Army driving trucks and worked as a concrete truck driver. His brother Orville was a concrete finisher at the time, and made arrangements for Roy to be trained as a concrete finisher. This proved to be his occupation for most of his life.
He and Patricia were living in Stockton California where a second son (David Richard, the middle name “Richard” was the name of Patricia’s father) was born on October 1947. They then moved to join his brother Orville in southern California in about 1950. They were living in a housing project in Long Beach California when a daughter was born (Karen Christine, the middle name “Christine” was because she was expected on Christmas day) was born on December 17th, 1950 in Torrance California at Harbor General Hospital. At the time due to lack of work, the family was on aid. However, there was a big housing building period starting in late 1950 due to the GI bill. Under the GI bill, veterans were given low cost financing for buying homes.
As a result the family was able to buy their first home in Torrance California. The 4th and last child, a daughter (Robin Aine, we do not know where the middle name “Aine” came from other than it sounded well) was born on April 29th, 1956 in Torrance.
The building trades was (and is) a up and down occupation. Some years, Roy was able to work more than 40 hours a week, other years, he was out of work for long periods of time. This was hard on him and the family and resulted in them having to sell their first and second homes. Often they had to move in the middle of the night as they could not pay the rent. Also, Patricia had to find work. Roy did not believe a wife should work. It was a hard thing for him not to be able to support his family, Dad believed that he was the head of the family. He did not like mom working or making decisions. Later we learned never to surprise him with a new idea or way of doing things. First, great care was needed to soften him up and lead him to thinking it was his idea.
In the summers when I was older, he would often take me out on his concrete jobs to pour and finish a pool deck or walkway. He had a gift as he could know how much concrete and framing wood would be needed with just a careful look
In June 1961 the family moved to Montana where mom's mother lived as Roy got a good job building missile emplacements. The family moved to Lewistown in the middle of Montana. Roy’s work was hard, and he was away from the family for long periods of time. Montana is very cold, and there isn’t much to do other than drink in the winter.
Due to the war and what is now known as PTSD, Garland Sr. became an alcoholic. For whatever reason, he failed to see that his alcoholism and depression was taking control of him and his wife had to work and become the head of the family. Depression (he may have suffered Bi-Polar cycles of depression and then mania behavior and/or even multiple personalities) in a man is different than in a woman. For a man, this disease often results in anger and abuse of those close to him.
When I was about 8 or 9 years old often he would take me with him to his favorite bar. Each time he would get me a glass of chocolate milk and a pickled egg. I loved the chocolate milk because mom would not buy any for the family. And, even today I like pickled eggs. I remember another thing also. Although he appeared to enjoy talking to his friends, he seemed so alone. He held himself apart from them and their discussions. There was little he shared with these men and most anyone.
He and Patricia were divorced after the family moved to Montana. Over the period of 1963-1964, Roy often found himself homeless, under the power of the alcohol, even sleeping in his truck in the cold Montana winter. Why and how he survived no one knows. In time he was admitted to a VA alcoholic facility in Oregon to dry out and care for his Delirium Tremens (known as DTs). In time he recovered and started on the road to sobriety. With a loan from his oldest son, he recovered his tools and starting back to work, although there were a few setbacks from time to time.
With the exception of two events, he kept his sobriety until he died. The families of his second son David, and his two daughters moved to Oregon to be near him. He was a very different man now. He enjoyed his grandchildren, often taking them fishing and elsewhere. The grandchildren have good memories of him.
After the divorce from Patricia, he married again twice. It was hard for him to "come home" after work and have no one to met him. I fully understand that and share it.
After Patricia, he married Faye Hawkins (I don't know if that was her pre-marriage surname or that from her 1st husband)who had two girls from the prior marriage. Faye was not that good to him. In fact, later she took everything from him that she could - including an unimproved lot of land in AZ that he owned before this marriage. She had no right to this land! Fortunately his girl Karen has taken steps to recover this land.
The last time he remarried was to Helen M. Richter (her prior husband had the surname of Reynolds). And she was very good to and for him. Especially the last days of his life. After Roy died, unfortunately Helen suffered Alzheimer’s. She is buried with her first husband. Thank you Helen for caring so much for him. During these years he enjoyed the Northwest with fishing and being with some of his grandchildren. I think those years were his best.
In early 1987 he visited his drying brother Orville and his oldest son in California and met his youngest grandson for the first and only time. At the time Roy actually was suffering from cancer.
Due to lifelong smoking, he had cancer of the larynx. He knew it was going to kill him although he hid that from most of his family. He died at home on Nov 11th 1987. I talked to him on the phone the night before, and he was ready to go. His ashes were placed at the Willamette National Cemetery in Portland Oregon. I am sure he and his fellow vets there are visiting each other often and telling tall stories about their war years. Also, he is looking over his family here on earth.
I was luckily. As the oldest, I knew him in some of his better days before the illness of alcoholism and the years took their toll. I don’t think my brother and sisters saw as much of the better part of him nor do they fully realize how much of him is within each of us. That is the reason for this story.
The very first thing I remember of my father was his hands. I was born when he was away at war and I don’t think he saw me until I was over a year old. I remember his hands, so big and warm and so different from that of my mother’s. They were the hands of someone who worked hard.
Some months after his death, his 3rd wife Helen give me his old Army compass. The true gift was not the compass, but rather the meaning behind the compass. Dad and I share a natural sense of direction. We rarely need a compass except when we let our pride grow so large that we depend on only this nature sense of direction. For then we become lost.
When I look at my dad’s compass, I am reminded that the Lord can provide us with direction, if we will only look.
Due to the devil of alcoholism and PTSD, dad did many bad things that were hard to forgive. I now know he was feeling very much alone. He had a hard life but in the end made his mark here, including finishing a church floor in Long Beach California and many pools.
Roy was a troubled Man. The reasons that made him troubled are complex and not fully known. It could have been his childhood mostly without a father, the war, his alcoholism, depression, or lack of self-confidence, or all of these. Even those who loved him know that he was a deeply flawed man. He was abusive, often unbending, and got angry over small things. He did many bad things when under the power of alcohol and other illnesses. He was a very lonely man. The alcohol may have been his only friend. A friend who often led him to places and acts he would not have otherwise done. Yet, there was an inner spark of goodness and love.
This was the story of this troubled man. I hope it shows a full and honest picture of this man. Maybe this is the only way to truly understand, and to forgive him. The people who knew him often only saw a part of him, or came to know him only in his later years. We all change, and he did too.
By Garland L Holt Jr.
Note: If you have information, photos or memories that you would like to contribute to this memorial, please contact Garland Holt.
Mother: Vera Lousie Campbell
First wife: Patrica Ann Brady
Second wife: Faye Hawkins
3rd wife: Helen Marie Richter Reynolds
Children:
Garland L. Holt Jr
David Richard Holt see 66618042
Karen Christine Holt
Robin Ane Holt
This is the story of a Troubled Man. He was my father. But he was also the father and grandfather of others who may be adding to this story.
My father was born Garland Leroy Holt. However, much of his life he was known as “Roy.” His father was John Kinchelow Holt and his mother was Vera Lousie Campbell. He was born into a poor farming family and he did not know his father much. The Depression hit this family hard although it is likely this part of the Holt family never had much anyway.
In his childhood, there were many people at the family dinner table and often too little food. Whenever there was a chicken or turkey, by the time it reached him, all was left was the gizzard and neck. These become his favorite.
Another favorite of his was buttermilk and bread. He would pour a large glass of buttermilk and then put bits of bread (often dryer the better)into the buttermilk. Oddly, I think I am the only member of the family who likes buttermilk now.
Once he and one of his brothers had a disagreement with their mother and "ran away" from home. They walked and got some rides all the way to the farm of a family member in Texas. They remained and worked on the farm for a while. Then his brother returned home. But Roy remained for a while yet. When his relative put him on the train to go home, he was given some money to pay for meals on the train. But Roy used the money to buy candy which he eat all at once and become sick over it. Later in life he never did like sweets.
There is a family story about when dad was a very young child and being put down a water well. He was discovered some hours later by Vera. There is another story about when he and the other “boys” discovered Vera’s supply of moonshine under the house floor boards. Of course, they sample more than a small amount of it. They were very sick. And as this was Vera’s major source of income, she was not very happy about it. Unlike with the candy, dad did like liquor later in life. So what works with candy did not work with liquor.
Times were hard even before the start of the Depression. Farming provided the family food and maybe a little more. It is not known if the family owned their own farm or not. Likely they were farming for others. With the Depression and the Dust Bowl, things become even harder for poor farming families. The coming of the CCC marked a place a young man could go to better himself and leave one less mouth for the family to feed.
Roy joined the CCCs like many young men at the time and then went into the US Army before the start of World War II. He had to lie about his age. For many years his birth year was recorded as 1919. But that was the birth year of his older brother. Actually, we think he was born in 1921 – there is no official record of his birth. Unlike most of the family, Garland did go to school – at least the first 6 or 8 grades. He always said that he did go to school but it was a Saturday and the school was closed.
By today’s standards, his education was poor. But, he did get to the 8th grade and did know how to read and write well, maybe the only one in the childhood family. He also had a number of “gifts”. He could tell what was wrong with a motor by just the sound. He had a green thumb. Once when challenged, it has been said he got a stick to grow by just putting it in the ground. Some of these gifts have been passed down to his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren
Roy liked women. While in the CCCs he had a very good girlfriend which I think was the girl child of the man who owned the farm he was working on. We don't know what happened to that relationship. But it is possible there are some children running around from that. If so, we would like to know them.
We have CCC pictures showing him in the CCC as early as 1937 at age 15 or 16, the reason for his lie of the birth year. He was assigned to the Eighth Corps area, in or around Cleburne Texas and received training in Auto Operation, Typing, Tractor and Truck Operation. Other than Typing, these areas of training had a large impact on his later life. In fact, we did not know he was trained to type until viewing his records.
His army records no longer exist, but it appears he received Basic training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, at the Field Artillery School and was assigned to the 18th Field Artillery. His training was in horsemanship. Later, he was sent to Fort Ord in Monterey California. Fort Ord dates back to the 1846, named Camp Ord in 1933 and Ford Ord in 1940 and established as a permanent Army installation.
Some years later, the following was shared with me by his granddaughter:
"During one episode (of DT) he shared a rather moving story about a young girl he tried to save while he was at War. He became quite attached to this young girl only to watch her being killed. This was very traumatizing for him. Grandma stated to me many times that he was a very different mam when he returned from war. I would suspect that he suffered from post traumatic syndrome as many soldiers do." We do not know if they story is true or not, but it appeared he believed it was.
His first wife was Patricia Ann Brady who while he was in the US Army he met at a local donut shop in San Francisco CA. Patricia was the daughter of a high ranking Army officer. There was much opposition to their dating by her father. It is likely this opposition drove them together, when otherwise the romance would have died. Roy was reassigned to Texas just before it was discovered that Patricia was pregnant. They were married on January 6, 1942. In those days, it was the honor of the man not to leave a pregnant woman unmarried. And, Roy was an honorable man. Although coming from very different worlds, they were in love and had three more children in the years to follow.
Very likely they would not have married if it had not been the opposition of Patricia father, and sense of the pre and early war years. Things were different in the pre-war and war years. There was the sense that the end was near.
Roy would not talk much about his war years. However, we do know he serviced in Italy. It is likely that this period was hard for him.
After Garland got out of the Army, he used the skills he earned in the Army driving trucks and worked as a concrete truck driver. His brother Orville was a concrete finisher at the time, and made arrangements for Roy to be trained as a concrete finisher. This proved to be his occupation for most of his life.
He and Patricia were living in Stockton California where a second son (David Richard, the middle name “Richard” was the name of Patricia’s father) was born on October 1947. They then moved to join his brother Orville in southern California in about 1950. They were living in a housing project in Long Beach California when a daughter was born (Karen Christine, the middle name “Christine” was because she was expected on Christmas day) was born on December 17th, 1950 in Torrance California at Harbor General Hospital. At the time due to lack of work, the family was on aid. However, there was a big housing building period starting in late 1950 due to the GI bill. Under the GI bill, veterans were given low cost financing for buying homes.
As a result the family was able to buy their first home in Torrance California. The 4th and last child, a daughter (Robin Aine, we do not know where the middle name “Aine” came from other than it sounded well) was born on April 29th, 1956 in Torrance.
The building trades was (and is) a up and down occupation. Some years, Roy was able to work more than 40 hours a week, other years, he was out of work for long periods of time. This was hard on him and the family and resulted in them having to sell their first and second homes. Often they had to move in the middle of the night as they could not pay the rent. Also, Patricia had to find work. Roy did not believe a wife should work. It was a hard thing for him not to be able to support his family, Dad believed that he was the head of the family. He did not like mom working or making decisions. Later we learned never to surprise him with a new idea or way of doing things. First, great care was needed to soften him up and lead him to thinking it was his idea.
In the summers when I was older, he would often take me out on his concrete jobs to pour and finish a pool deck or walkway. He had a gift as he could know how much concrete and framing wood would be needed with just a careful look
In June 1961 the family moved to Montana where mom's mother lived as Roy got a good job building missile emplacements. The family moved to Lewistown in the middle of Montana. Roy’s work was hard, and he was away from the family for long periods of time. Montana is very cold, and there isn’t much to do other than drink in the winter.
Due to the war and what is now known as PTSD, Garland Sr. became an alcoholic. For whatever reason, he failed to see that his alcoholism and depression was taking control of him and his wife had to work and become the head of the family. Depression (he may have suffered Bi-Polar cycles of depression and then mania behavior and/or even multiple personalities) in a man is different than in a woman. For a man, this disease often results in anger and abuse of those close to him.
When I was about 8 or 9 years old often he would take me with him to his favorite bar. Each time he would get me a glass of chocolate milk and a pickled egg. I loved the chocolate milk because mom would not buy any for the family. And, even today I like pickled eggs. I remember another thing also. Although he appeared to enjoy talking to his friends, he seemed so alone. He held himself apart from them and their discussions. There was little he shared with these men and most anyone.
He and Patricia were divorced after the family moved to Montana. Over the period of 1963-1964, Roy often found himself homeless, under the power of the alcohol, even sleeping in his truck in the cold Montana winter. Why and how he survived no one knows. In time he was admitted to a VA alcoholic facility in Oregon to dry out and care for his Delirium Tremens (known as DTs). In time he recovered and started on the road to sobriety. With a loan from his oldest son, he recovered his tools and starting back to work, although there were a few setbacks from time to time.
With the exception of two events, he kept his sobriety until he died. The families of his second son David, and his two daughters moved to Oregon to be near him. He was a very different man now. He enjoyed his grandchildren, often taking them fishing and elsewhere. The grandchildren have good memories of him.
After the divorce from Patricia, he married again twice. It was hard for him to "come home" after work and have no one to met him. I fully understand that and share it.
After Patricia, he married Faye Hawkins (I don't know if that was her pre-marriage surname or that from her 1st husband)who had two girls from the prior marriage. Faye was not that good to him. In fact, later she took everything from him that she could - including an unimproved lot of land in AZ that he owned before this marriage. She had no right to this land! Fortunately his girl Karen has taken steps to recover this land.
The last time he remarried was to Helen M. Richter (her prior husband had the surname of Reynolds). And she was very good to and for him. Especially the last days of his life. After Roy died, unfortunately Helen suffered Alzheimer’s. She is buried with her first husband. Thank you Helen for caring so much for him. During these years he enjoyed the Northwest with fishing and being with some of his grandchildren. I think those years were his best.
In early 1987 he visited his drying brother Orville and his oldest son in California and met his youngest grandson for the first and only time. At the time Roy actually was suffering from cancer.
Due to lifelong smoking, he had cancer of the larynx. He knew it was going to kill him although he hid that from most of his family. He died at home on Nov 11th 1987. I talked to him on the phone the night before, and he was ready to go. His ashes were placed at the Willamette National Cemetery in Portland Oregon. I am sure he and his fellow vets there are visiting each other often and telling tall stories about their war years. Also, he is looking over his family here on earth.
I was luckily. As the oldest, I knew him in some of his better days before the illness of alcoholism and the years took their toll. I don’t think my brother and sisters saw as much of the better part of him nor do they fully realize how much of him is within each of us. That is the reason for this story.
The very first thing I remember of my father was his hands. I was born when he was away at war and I don’t think he saw me until I was over a year old. I remember his hands, so big and warm and so different from that of my mother’s. They were the hands of someone who worked hard.
Some months after his death, his 3rd wife Helen give me his old Army compass. The true gift was not the compass, but rather the meaning behind the compass. Dad and I share a natural sense of direction. We rarely need a compass except when we let our pride grow so large that we depend on only this nature sense of direction. For then we become lost.
When I look at my dad’s compass, I am reminded that the Lord can provide us with direction, if we will only look.
Due to the devil of alcoholism and PTSD, dad did many bad things that were hard to forgive. I now know he was feeling very much alone. He had a hard life but in the end made his mark here, including finishing a church floor in Long Beach California and many pools.
Roy was a troubled Man. The reasons that made him troubled are complex and not fully known. It could have been his childhood mostly without a father, the war, his alcoholism, depression, or lack of self-confidence, or all of these. Even those who loved him know that he was a deeply flawed man. He was abusive, often unbending, and got angry over small things. He did many bad things when under the power of alcohol and other illnesses. He was a very lonely man. The alcohol may have been his only friend. A friend who often led him to places and acts he would not have otherwise done. Yet, there was an inner spark of goodness and love.
This was the story of this troubled man. I hope it shows a full and honest picture of this man. Maybe this is the only way to truly understand, and to forgive him. The people who knew him often only saw a part of him, or came to know him only in his later years. We all change, and he did too.
By Garland L Holt Jr.
Note: If you have information, photos or memories that you would like to contribute to this memorial, please contact Garland Holt.
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