By Erik Nordberg, University Archivist
Michigan Tech Archives and
Copper Country Historical Collections

Michigan Tech has struggled with housing shortages from time to time, but the period immediately following World War II proved particularly challenging. With only a single purpose-built dormitory, Douglass Houghton Hall, and a limited number of local rentals, the college was unprepared for the influx of veterans seeking an education on their G.I. Bill funding.

Tech responded to the crisis in a number of ways, including an addition to DHH and the erection of temporary housing in the Woodmar neighborhood. However, another option existed for students seeking a “home of their own” in Houghton.

Many simply brought their homes along with them.

“Back in those days the correct nomenclature was ‘mobile home,’” notes Leo Foco ’52. “I had just been discharged from the US Air Force and we were newly married. We borrowed money, bought a 31-foot trailer and moved it to Houghton.”

Chet Sperry ’48 had just finished his freshman year at Western State Teachers College when he decided to transfer to the Michigan College of Mining and Technology. “My wife, Betty, and I made a two-day trip to Houghton from Kalamazoo in our 1939 Ford two-door V8, pulling a 21 Glider house trailer. We had about $200 to our name when we arrived.

“We were assigned a spot down on the edge of Portage Lake, adjacent to the maintenance building. The college supplied us with an extension cord and we had use of toilet facilities in the east end of the building.”

Other students were referred to the Pilgrim Terrace down on the Isle Royale sands. Sally Brown Kosmider moved with her husband, Patrick Kosmider ’63 and newborn daughter—and their 38’ x 8’ trailer—from Sault Ste. Marie.

“Living on the stamp sand was quite an adventure,” she recalls. “Those trailers weren’t at all weather tight. Our bedding used to freeze to the floor on regular basis in the winter. We had a little bit of trouble seeing out of the windows in the winter for the snow banks.”

In the summer of 1949, the college closed its waterfront trailer park. “The administration complained that the $3 per month rent didn’t cover their costs,” recalls Chet Sperry. “They said that someone was starting a trailer park up on Garnet Street and that we would be welcome there. So we all moved there and were joined by transfers from the Soo Branch and other incoming veterans.”

Barbara and Jim Falge ’59 were pretty burned out by the time they arrived in Houghton. “I had been discharged from the Navy in Sanford, Florida, and we had towed our 37-foot house trailer all the way to Houghton.”

When the college registrar suggested they try the trailer park up at the top of Garnet Hill, Jim wasn’t sure how they’d get the trailer up the steep hill.

“But Tech was a small school back then and was always willing to help out. Before I could say anything, a guy showed up with a pay loader tractor and hooked up to our trailer. He took it up the hill and even parked it for us.”

By 1957-1958 the student directory listed more than 25 residents of the Garnet Hill Trailer Park. Some quickly dubbed the hilltop park “Trailertown.”

Bill Mundhenk ’59 had a trailer in the park and remembers it fondly.

“As you were traveling up Garnet Street hill, our trailer was in a single row of perhaps seven trailers on the right side of the road and perpendicular to it,” he said. “On the left side of the road was a U-shaped road with trailers along the outside of the ‘U’ and a wash-house in the middle of the ‘U.’ Altogether, I would guess there were between 30 and 35 trailers total.”

The wash house included coin-operated washing machines, toilets, sinks and showers. “We didn’t have a water heater in our trailer,” remembers Lee Parker, wife of Jack Parker ’58 (and daughter of Tech’s registrar Thomas Sermon). “Although we could heat water on the stove, we had to head over to the wash house to shower.”

Despite it’s privations, trailer living offered many advantages to Tech students. First and foremost, it offered young married couples a much-needed option for private housing. Leo Foco acknowledged this common desire, especially amongst the newlyweds. “It was our own private little bungalow.”

Although the modular homes in the Woodmar housing area were nicer, they cost more. Rents for lots in the trailer parks varied from $15 to $30 per month.

“You could rent a nicer modular home in Woodmar, but it cost you something like $85 per month,” recalls Mundhenk. “The thought of having our own personal little “home” in Woodmar really appealed to us, but the thought of paying $85 per month and then ending up with nothing that you actually owned did not sound so good.”

Veterans were eligible to receive $135 per month for living expenses through the G.I. Bill—more if they had had children. “That doesn’t sound like much for a family to live on, in addition to paying for tuition and books, but at the time tuition was very reasonable,” Mundhenk remembers. “Groceries averaged about $5 per large brown paper bag. Once a week, we would go grocery shopping and if we purchased four bags it was usually around $20.”

“This will sound ridiculous today, but my grocery budget was $10 per week” remarks Clara Reif, wife of Albert Reif ’58. “This included baby food, but not milk. When we needed money to go home at Christmas, we lived on a stewing hen for a week. I remember one married couple that lived on popcorn for a week to save money for gas.”

Residents helped each other out, too, according to Bill Mundhenk. “We had no car, so we often walked the long trek to the A&P Store, which was near the bridge in Hancock. Much of the time, however, one of our many nice neighbors would give us a ride in their car.”

Young married couples also quickly became young growing families. Lee and Jack Parker had two children while residents of Trailertown and Sally Kosmider remembers one-to-five kids at most trailers. “We were in the trailer park with other couples who were pretty much in the same situation as we were. Most of us moms were working part time. Looking back at the year book pictures, it was clear that maternity wear was all the fashion.”

The openness of the parks often led to amusing situations. Jack Parker recalls one time that he and his wife were both out at work. “Our neighbor’s oven went out—I believe it was Mary Wilson—so she came over and let herself in to our place to bake something. I returned home to find this young woman bent over our stove. Boy was I surprised when it wasn’t my wife.”

Residents entertained regularly, though the party fare was usually humble and affordable. “We were all in the same boat,” says Clara Reif. “When we entertained it was with popcorn and Kool Aid.”

Card tournaments and the occasional game of broomball helped to ease tensions. Annual Christmas and Halloween parties were organized in rented halls in Ripley or Hubbell to allow residents a change of scenery.

The Garnet Hill location was on the edge of wilderness at the time. Fields adjacent the trailer park were teeming with flora and fauna. “There were always rabbits and fish to be had and an abundant supply of apples,” recalls Jack Parker. “I had a small cider press and we used to make cider.”

Bill Mundhenk remembers that another alum, Jim Schellenberger, had a number of maple trees tapped. “He used to study out in the woods while he boiled the sap over a log fire to make maple syrup.

Several alumni commented on wine-making adventures. “One year was particularly good for choke cherries,” recalls Walter Cook ’59. “We gathered up bushels of the berries and dumped them in a wooden barrel along with raisins and some sugar.”

They left it for several weeks (Jim Falge remembers stirring with a canoe paddle), strained it through a bed sheet and poured it off into glass gallon jugs.

“Someone had access to a campus centrifuge and managed to spin off another gallon or so.”

Cook’s memory of the end product? “It was delicious!”

In the summer of 1958, residents worked with college administrators to dredge a small pond adjacent to the park for use as a summer swimming hole. The project required the removal of several feet of thick mud and the importing of several feet of beach sand. In winter, the swimming hole became an ideal skating and broomball rink.

Winter could be harsh in the Tech trailer parks. “Pipes would freeze and we’d thaw them with a propane torch,” notes Jack Parker.

Bill Mundhenk remembered one cold snowy morning. “I awoke to a temperature of minus 28 degrees and I had to wade through snow up to my crotch to get to class. That sounds a bit formidable now but, being young at the time, it was more of an adventure than a hardship.”

Walter Cook remembers one benefit of the heavy snow. “We were on a corner next to Garnet, so we got more snow piled up from the plow. The extra snow helped a lot to keep us warm.”

The park was self-governed, with monthly resident meetings, elected officials and established policies.

“There were very vocal meetings,” recalls Clara Reif. “The biggest complaint was the wash house schedule. A family with children were allowed two wash days. It was the people who would run their time over into the next person’s time that caused the problem. So trivial today, but you set your schedule by your husband’s as no one could afford baby sitters just to do laundry.”

Jack Parker was the Trailertown meter reader for period of time. “U.P. Power had a single line coming into the trailer court, with one large meter. It was my job to read individual meters on the trailers, collect money from the residents and pay the larger electrical bill. Other people had other jobs around the park.”

Following their sojourns in Houghton, many folks took advantage of the affordability of trailer housing in other towns and some even took their trailers along with them.

“We pulled it to Flint,” reports Leo Foco,” where I worked at AC Spark Plug for a summer. After graduation we moved the trailer to Minneapolis and lived in it for another year while I worked for Honeywell.”

Jack and Lee Parker also returned to the trailer life after Tech. Following a year in the Twin Cities, Jack landed a job at the White Pine mine in Ontonagon County. He and his family moved into a 10’ by 50’ trailer while the company completed new housing at the mine’s townsite.

Jim and Barbara Falge not only sold their trailer, but helped the new owner prepare it for departure. “While we were first setting ourselves up on the lot all those years ago, Jim somehow lost his wedding band,” Barbara recalls. “Believe it or not, while we were helping the new owner to disconnect sewer and electrical lines, we noticed a little glint of gold in the dirt. It turned out to be the missing ring.”

Many lifelong friendships were forged in Tech’s trailer parks. “When we arrived, there were eight or ten trailers along the railroad tracks down by the lake,” recalls Chet Sperry. “Within a day or so Paul and Audrey Frair pulled in next to us with a 17-foot trailer. Then began a friendship that still lasts.”

Although limited in space, trailer living didn’t limit student and family life. Walter Cook remembers making room for what was needed. “Our trailer was 8’ x 25’ and the one behind was only 8’x 16’. You may wonder at having a Christmas tree in a 200 square foot trailer, but we had one each year.”

For all of the hardships, most former residents recall their time in the trailer parks with great fondness. “I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything,” says Sally Fosmider, “though I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

Photographs courtesy of Lee and Jack Parker ’58, Ardella & Leo Foco ’52, and Christa & Bill Mundhenk ’59, and Walter Cook ’59 (who first suggested the idea for this article).