"Right: 1937, A traveling photographer came by the house during the Depression. Money was tight and it was washday. After much debate, Wilford and Cora decided to have Berry’s picture taken. It cost $7.50.
(Dorothy E. Kennington)
Berry Jay Eckersell was born to Wilford and Cora Smith Berry Eckersell at Rexburg, Madison County, Idaho on September 7, 1932, and his father’s 36th birthday. His mother was 24. He was the first son in a family, which included three older sisters: Dorothy, Charlene and Maridawn.
The family was raised at Wilford’s family home located just east of the railroad line and on the north side of Rexburg at 167 North 1st West. It was a red brick home built by Berry’s Great-grandfather Taylor for his daughter, Diana, and her family when they moved back into Rexburg about 1896.
When Berry was small, his family lived in the upstairs apartment while their Eckersell Grandparents lived downstairs. The upstairs was reached up a long outside stairway on the north west side of the brick home.
The family moved downstairs in the late 1940’s after the death of their Grandmother Eckersell. Berry’s room remained upstairs on the west side under the eves for some 40 years. The wallpaper had a cowboy theme. He had a bed, dresser and later added a writing desk, which he bought from his Great Grandfather Berry’s estate.
Berry must have had things just about the way he wanted them with 3 older sisters to dote on him and grandparents and other family close at hand.
According to Charlene, Berry was quite accustomed to having milk delivered in bottles by the milkman. When visiting his Grandmother Olive Berry and her boys on the farm at Hibbard, he refused to drink the fresh milk. Soon an uncle got wise, poured the milk in a bottle and delivered it to the front porch. The milk was delicious.
A baseball cap and a jacket were the mainstays of Berry’s wardrobe growing up, as can be seen in the photo.
The family was busy earning a living during the Depression. Berry’s dad worked at various jobs: in the potato cellar, raising hogs, mushrooms, and at the pool hall owned by his brother, getting wood in the fall. Berry would have been a part of all these enterprises.
Family dynamics were always changing. Berry was just 2 months old when his Grandfather Berry died unexpectedly while out plowing with a team on the Berry farm in Hibbard. Just before his 4th birthday, Berry’s Grandfather Eckersell, who lived downstairs and was no doubt a big part of his young life, passed away. When Berry was 8, his parents lost a baby boy at birth and his mother experienced several health problems. Aunts, uncles and cousins were close by, often visiting or staying at the brick home.
Berry was an outgoing child according to his sister, Dorothy, and always had friends over to the house.
His early photos show an eager, friendly, dark-haired little boy. During second grade Berry had a bout with rheumatic fever. He never seemed to recover his confidence or vigor. He became quieter and somewhat withdrawn. He repeated 2nd Grade.
Despite the shyness, Berry had many friends from childhood: Bill Smith, Perry Johnson and Larry Bell to mention a few. Through Larry Bell we get to know Berry’s world a little better.
Larry and Berry’s grandfathers were friends and their fathers worked together for the Woods Livestock Company as cowboys. According to Larry, there wasn’t a time when the little boys didn’t know each other. They were together in their first grade picture and on through the years as friends.
Many of the experiences related through Larry’s eyes and give us a closer look at Berry’s life.
World War II was part of Berry’s world. He was barely 9 when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Larry recalled he and Berry topping beets with the German POWs. He said no one ever worried about the Germans escaping because they had it better in the fields than on the front.
Larry and Berry also picked carrots with the POWs for .25 an hour. Coming back from picking carrots one afternoon, they heard sirens and whistles going off in town to celebrate the end of the war. Berry would have been about 14.
Berry spent a lot of his free time fishing. Many times he and his buddies fished along the Teton River and then would leave the day’s catch at the hobo village by the railroad tracks. Larry recalled that sometimes as kids, they would play hooky from school to spend the whole day fishing. They liked bringing in the big ones. Unfortunately, those were usually caught at the outlet to the sewer lagoon – good reason to drop the fish off for someone else to eat.
Berry and another good friend, Bill Smith, were out camping by a good fishing hole. Bill was having unusually good luck, but Berry wasn’t catching anything. Finally he put an end to Bill’s luck by jumping into the hole and stirring things up good to scare the fish away.
Berry told Garth that he had a pick-up in high school and was really excited about dragging main in Rexburg for the first time. He later realized he’d driven down the wrong side of main street.
During his teenage years, a tremor developed in Berry’s hands. The shyness continued. He eventually dropped out of high school, but did earn a “certificate of completion” with his sister, Maridawn’s help. About that same time he began to avoid social interactions.
After leaving high school, Berry worked in the potato and sawmill industries. He spent his free hours reading, drawing and with close friends.
Berry grew into a handsome man with raven black hair. He looked much like his Grandfather Eckersell. He was a slight build like many of his father’s family.
He wasn’t too fond of leaving Rexburg, but did make a trip to California with his brother-in law, Forrest Kennington about 1949 and seemed to enjoy it. Forrest really liked Berry’s company.
Berry and Wilford always had projects going on. They refurbished the old white sheds to the west of the house, making them a sort of museum for antique tools. They also helped Vel with his little house out back. They also tended to the raspberry patch.
And they built a large log barn complete with a loft. Berry had a workbench and his car downstairs. The upstairs was meant for old photos, curiosities and cast off furniture. It served as a bunkhouse.
The Teton Dam Flood in 1976 brought the loss of the beloved old brick home. At first warning of the disaster, Berry and Wilford were reluctant to leave the house. After all, it was a bright sunny day in June and they could ride it out. But when the floodwaters began flipping huge logs at the far side of the sawmill they decided to leave.
Berry had his German Shepherd with him in the back of a pick-up on College Hill. Staying up at the Red Cross shelter on the Ricks Campus and waded back through the floodwaters to spend the night in the house. Floodwaters never touched above the 7 or 8-foot mark so the upstairs and his bedroom were just as they left them that morning. But the creaking and groaning in the dark as water, logs and debris settled around the house, was un-nerving and Berry had little sleep.
A nephew, Brad Griffiths, serving a mission in California at that time, recognized the house in the Los Angeles Times. (See Wilford’s history) Berry’s unusual doghouse on wheels also made the newspapers.
Berry and Wilford turned their attention to the often-bewildering task of bringing order to their world.
Berry and Wilford always had projects going on. They refurbished the old white sheds to the west of the house, making them a sort of museum for antique tools. They also helped Vel with his little house out back. They also tended to the raspberry patch.
And they built a large log barn complete with a loft. Berry had a workbench and his car downstairs. The upstairs was meant for old photos, curiosities and cast off furniture. It served as a bunkhouse.
The logjam, which settled around the front of the house probably, saved it initially. Debris included logs and a trailer house with the teakettle still on the stove. The flood current wrapped around the house and headed southwest across the railroad tracks.
The first few days' activities included getting the house back in order, rescuing family treasures, cleaning the bathroom, tearing up the carpets which were heavy with mud, fish and debris, etc. Items needing to be dried were arranged and hung on the logs just out the front door. Much needed supplies were furnished by the Red Cross.
City water supply was feared contaminated. Lines needed flushed. Drinking water had to be hauled in. Animal carcasses had to be hauled away. Electrical lines needed repair. Ironically, the mail was still delivered on schedule though some addresses no longer existed.
Forrest and Dorothy moved their camper in and spent the summer working between there and refurbishing their own apartments.
A small HUD trailer was moved onto the lot that fall. The beloved old red brick home was condemned later that summer and torn down.
Even though they were squeezed for space, Wilford and Berry opened their trailer to some college “granddaughters” whose apartment wasn’t finished. The year before the girls had baked them cookies and set up their Christmas tree, etc. So they turned in desperation to Eckersells. Berry spent much of his time away, probably in the barn. Women made him nervous.
Berry and Wilford added a lean-to on the west side of the trailer and installed the large old wood-burning kitchen stove from the kitchen of the brick home.
The death of Wilford the next June (1977) was a tough blow for Berry. They had batched together for 14 years. Berry became more reclusive.
Another nephew, Garth Kennington, lived with Berry in the trailer while attending Ricks.
Berry’s hometeacher had been Wilford’s hometeacher for several years. Whenever he dropped by, he would see Berry disappear out the back door. So he wondered if he
would ever have any common interests after Wilford
passed on. Eventually Berry would visit with him about cars, especially Model A’s.
Eventhough Berry was frugal, he was also generous to those less fortunate than himself. One old friend, Murl Elliot, thought it was so kind that Berry always had a sandwich waiting for him. People at the meat market always wrapped a package of odds and ends so Berry could feed his animals.
Berry’s health began to deteriorate, but he mentioned it to no one and avoided the doctors and hospital. In mid September he was hospitalized and Berry passed away from lukemia on Sept. 24th, 2000.
He was buried next to his parents under a large pine tree in the Rexburg Cemetery.
Larry Bell’s final thoughts are a fitting conclusion to this quiet man’s story. “Berry was a silent, unconscious, unseen, influence in my life. Berry has been an anchor thoughout my life. When life has been a bit hairy, my mind would transport me back to those treasured times with Berry; horseback riding, fishing, hanging around in that neat cabin with the stove and old phonograph records we found in the dump; the drives out in the country and renewal of the soul when I was in town. I honor Berry and thank him this day for the influence he’s had in my life. “
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