The Snyders were sharecrop farmers in Nebraska. Samuel’s family originated from Germany and had immigrated in the 1800s to Pennsylvania. There, Samuel met Etta Rothermel at a church picnic. They married on Feb. 27, 1904, the day before Etta turned 20. Samuel had turned 21 that same month.

The couple’s first four children were born in Pennsylvania. The doctor advised Samuel to move to a drier climate after he contracted lung disease, so the Snyders chose to join relatives living in Nebraska.

While living at Silver Creek, Nebraska, eight more children were born to Sam and Etta for a total of 12 children.

After the onset of Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, the family decided to move farther west. Two of the older children, Tom and Charmaine “Mack”, went to Oregon first in June 1932 to find and rent a farm house large enough for the entire family. Mack’s husband Leslie and their two children also moved at that time. Because daughter Blanche was pregnant, she and her family stayed in Nebraska until after the baby was born.

The rest of the Snyder family departed from Merrick County on Jan. 23, 1933. Daughter Ethel (age 24 at the time) kept a diary of the 13-person caravan as they traveled through Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, California and up to northwestern Oregon.

With the 1 ½-ton Chevrolet truck-house pulling a wagon packed with necessities, the family arrived at their new home near Silverton, Oregon, on March 8, 1933.

More than 50 years later, Ethel reflected on her diary entries and wrote a story about the family’s journey. Little did she know that her brother Paul had developed photographs that he had taken with his camera and made a photo album of the move, as well.

Their niece Becky Davis of Sublimity, Oregon found these family heirlooms.

“It was a long time between when Ethel wrote her story and me finding there were pictures from the trip. I was able to go through Uncle Paul’s pictures to illustrate her story,” Davis said.

The mishaps of the Snyders’ adventure sound like a movie plot: missed turns, accidentally lighting a cabin on fire, picking up hitchhikers and, of course, multiple breakdowns along the way. On the home stretch of the last 25 miles, the 11-foot-tall house had its roof peeled away under a short railroad bridge.

Ethel’s story is just a glimpse into some of the events.

“All of the cousins in my family have stories from their parents. We all feel really connected to this move from Nebraska to Oregon because each of us is a part of the story,” Davis said.

The entire family moved to Oregon initially, but over time a few of the siblings drifted back to Nebraska or a state in between. Davis is number 42 out of the 44 grandchildren of Samuel and Etta Snyder; there were 22 boys and 22 girls.

Now 92 years later, here is the story of one epic family road trip:

Our trip to Oregon

By Ethel Snyder Carson

written in 1984

On Monday, Jan. 23, 1933, we started our trip to Oregon where we decided to make our future home.

Tom, with Madeline and her family, had made the trip in June and had rented a farm for us there near Silverton. We had built an 8- by 12-foot house on a 1 1/2 ton Chevrolet truck.

They loaded it with 5 tons of our belongings. We took with us our clothes, food, bedding and a few pieces of furniture. We had a small oil heater to keep us warm and a two-burner gas stove to cook our meals on.

Behind the truck we pulled a trailer filled with gasoline, oil, tools and our bedsprings.

On the left side of the truck Virgil McCormick had painted in big black letters the sign “Oregon or bust!” In the front, above the cab was fastened a pair of elk antlers.

We arose at 4:30 and had breakfast at Pete Hedlund's. They came along back to help us load the truck. Several other neighbors also came to help us load. It was a warm, sunny day and we took pictures and finally got everything loaded by 1 o’clock. It was indeed a sad parting as our neighbors bade us goodbye and watched us drive away.

We drove to Harve McCormick's house where we had a good hot dinner before starting out. After dinner we took a few more pictures and then started on our long journey.

At Silver Creek we had to fix an overloaded spring which was broken as we drove out of our yard. It took some time to fix it, so we spent the night there, part of the family with “Grandma” Tooker.

Next morning we got an early start. We stopped at Central City to cook our breakfast. As we were riding along that afternoon Jimmy asked, "How far are we from Oregon now?"

That day Abe got off the highway onto a new graded road which terminated at a stockyard a few miles west. We had to go back a short distance and cross the railroad tracks. We were afraid of our truck house, so we all got out while Abe drove it over the steep grade. We drove as far as Overton where we camped for the night.

Wednesday we drove to Ogallala and camped there. We shipped our cured beef to Oregon from there on Thursday morning and drove on to Sterling.

We swung into a filling station at Crook, Colorado and ripped the mule-hide covering on the right side of our truck top. Friday morning we mended our house with tar paper and drove on to Greeley. Dad viewed the first sign of the Rockies when he saw Long's Peak above the clouds. We took pictures of the Colorado scenery and drove to Denver Saturday morning.

Just out of Denver we picked up a young hitchhiker who was on his way to Tucson, Arizona. His name was Bill Boyd.

We camped at Palmer Lake where we had to fix the lugs on the rear wheel of the truck. Sunday we drove to Pueblo. At Colorado Springs we took pictures of Pike's Peak.

Monday we painted signs "Oregon or bust!" on the back and right side of the truck and drove on to Walsenburg. Next morning Johnny got breakfast and we drove over the Raton Pass.

There are eight hairpin curves over the pass, and it is so steep it took us most of the afternoon to cross it.

We camped at Raton, New Mexico, where we got a few souvenirs. As we were coming down the pass, Daniel hollered, "Three cheers for Raton Pass! All our bladders are busted!”

On Wednesday morning, Feb. 1, the next day, our father celebrated his 50th birthday by taking a long hike up into the mountains with Ethel, Jimmy and Mary Etta, and we took pictures of the scenery. The rest of the people stayed at the cabin and did the washing.

We left Raton about noon and drove to Springer. We got a cabin there and that night we played cards until about midnight, and after going to bed we stayed awake teasing and laughing the rest of the night. By 5 in the morning, most of us were ready to go to sleep, but Johnny was just waking up. He called us several times, and then he started pulling covers off, so we rolled out since there was no more rest for us.

Our bedding, when it was rolled up, made a nice bunk in the truck, so that day we climbed up on it and tried to catch a nap on the sly. But the folks had their way of getting even. So a pinch and then a punch or a tug at the covers kept us on the jump enough so that we were glad to be quiet and go to sleep that night.

We camped in a little Indian village of San Jose. There were no cabins here, so we rented a room in the front room of a two-room house from an old Indian. Our truck house seemed to be quite a curiosity there, and a group of young Indian boys gathered around to watch us unload our bedding. Later, when most of us had gone into our room, they tried to take off the little reflectors, but were unsuccessful, so they left the truck and went up over the hill.

The next morning we did not start a fire. We drove on to Pecos before breakfast. It was about 10:30 when we reached Pecos.

Some of us decided to wash in ice water, so Bill Boyd took the wash basin and the rest took towels and soap out to the big wash barrel back of the filling station. We took off our coats, sweaters and shirts and had a good splash. Even though we were in New Mexico it was pretty snappy. There was ice and snow on the ground, and it was the third day of February.

At Gloria Pass we came to an old Indian well, the oldest well in the United States. It is about 400 years old and was once visited by the Spanish explorer Coronado. They charged a nickel a glass to drink from the well, so of course we opened up our old cream can of water and took a drink from that. That night we camped at Albuquerque.

The scenery of New Mexico is more beautiful than that of Colorado. The soil and rocks are blended in reds, grays and browns. There are only a few trees, and most of these are small shrubs and brush. The homes are made of adobe and so are blended in with the natural scenery.

In the valley we crossed the Rio Grande River and the highway follows it for some distance. Here, along the river bottom, we found thickets of scrub oak and buck brush in beautiful colors of reds, purples and golds.

We soon left the river to wind in among the hills and mountains, and there we came to a high boulder standing on end by the side of the highway. We stopped and climbed up on it to have our pictures taken. The boys scampered to the top, each trying to go higher than the other. This was great fun, and when the boys were satisfied that they couldn't go any higher, the picture was taken.

Now to come down. This was not quite so much fun. To the contrary, it was hard work. To miss a footing and fall on the rocks below would surely mean broken bones. Slowly and carefully they descended, and of course it took the rest of the family to help them down to the ground.

That night we got a cabin in Grant. We could not start the fire, so the manager, a young Indian, came in to help us. There was no kerosene, so he attempted to start it with gasoline. We tried to stop him, but he said he had often started fires in that way. He lighted a match and in an instant the cabin was in flames.

Most of us got out of the cabin and he finally got the fire put out by beating it with his coat. His hands were badly burned and his coat burned up, but no damage was done to the rest of us.

After the excitement, as we were looking over the cabin, we chanced to read on a wall, "Alfred Youngdahl, Osceola, Nebraska." Interesting that we folks should occupy the same cabin and be so far from home.

After some fiery excitement at a cabin in New Mexico, the next day we drove through not far from the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forests. But at that time the ground was covered with snow so we did not get to take in those sights. We broke an axle about 10 miles from Gallup. Abe and Bill Boyd hailed a car and rode into town for an axle.

While they were gone, Daniel and Jimmy wandered off the highway up into a red mountain about two miles away. Mary Etta followed, and when Johnny and Russell discovered that they were gone, they set out to look for them. The boys came back with the repairs and fixed the wheel.

We called to the kids but could not hear or see them. We waited for a while and finally sent Paul to look for them. He was gone for some time and it was getting late.

We were about to give them all up for lost when they appeared over the hill, strolling back to the highway as though they had spent a pleasant afternoon at some park. After we got through telling them, they stayed told for the remainder of the trip.

We were crossing the Navajo Indian Reservation. Here are beautiful red rocks and mountains. Many turquoise stones are found in this part of the country and the stones, both polished and unpolished, are to be seen in most shop windows in the little Indian village of Gallup, where we camped for the night. Here the Indian's manners and dress are much the same as they were in earlier history. The women wear brightly colored shawls and their hair is worn in long braids. The men wear their hair about shoulder length. Some wear bright headbands while others wear their hair tied up with a bright bow. The men all wear khaki clothing.

The next day was the first cloudy day since we started on our trip. It rained and sleeted some. We crossed over into Arizona. It gradually turned colder as we traveled on. We crossed the Little Colorado River and drove to Winston. We rented two cabins here for the price of one, so we were not so crowded. That night several of the boys had their hair cut. Our hitchhiker was the barber.

Tuesday, February 7, was the coldest day of our trip. The windows in our house were frozen all day. We kept our coats on but were not uncomfortable. We were gradually traveling higher into the mountains. We froze our radiator and drove on to Williams to camp. That night it was 20 degrees below zero but our cabin was nice and warm and we didn't realize it was so cold.

The next day, our hitchhiker left us at Ash Fork, where he set out for Phoenix. We missed him, for he had helped to keep up the cheerful spirit during the time he was with us.

We were now coming into warmer country.

We camped that night at Pete's Springs. The next day we crossed the Oatman Grade. This is much the same as Raton Pass, except that it is in desert country and there are no trees. Going down the Pass we burned out a bearing and were delayed three days at the River View Cottage Camp. We did our washing there and then some of us took a hike up into the mountains to the gold mines.

We came to an old prospector's shack, and he let us go down into his mine shafts. We each in turn took the pick and other mining tools in hand, picked a little at the rocks, and decided we would not care to be prospectors.

We dug up several pretty cactus plants to take with us. We walked up through the hills and came to a nice little house, the home of a miner. Here he had an orchard and a garden. He gave us some pomegranates and oranges from his trees. We took pictures of him in front of his orange trees eating oranges.

On Sunday, February 12, we left the camp about noon and crossed the Colorado River into California.

About two miles from the Arizona line we burned out our bearing again.

Abe went back about a mile to a filling station and found a young cowpuncher named Spike, fixing his truck. He came down with Abe and they started working on our truck. The next day, he brought his buddy, Elmer, to help, and the boys went to Needles to get repairs. We were delayed there for three days.

We cooked our meals outside, and while the boys worked on the truck we had lots of time to take long hikes up into the hills. The last night we were there, February 15, we drove down and camped along the river. We built a big campfire and sat around the fire and sang songs. That night we slept under the stars.

The cowpunchers carried their bunks with them in their truck, so they made their bed beside the tent. The next day they went with us to Needles, where we left them.

That night we foolishly pitched our tent on top of a mountain. About midnight, a strong wind came up and blew off our tent. Some of us awoke and saw it blow off. Those who were asleep soon got cold, and by 3:00 we were all awake, pulling covers on. We decided to get up and travel on.

By this time we were far enough into California that we could buy oranges at a reasonable price, so we got a crate of oranges and one of apples at Barstow.

Going out of Barstow we got started on the wrong highway, which would have taken us up into Nevada. It was nearly dark, so we would not have found out where we were until the next morning. But we had driven only about a mile when a man at a filling station, seeing our “Oregon or bust!” signs, stopped us and directed us onto the right road.

We drove out of town about three miles and our tire blew out, so we camped there along the highway. The next day we fixed our tire and drove through the Tehachapi Mountains. It was cold and snowy there, so we rented our last cabin in Tehachapi. The bearings needed tightening, so we laid over Sunday in that town.

Monday we traveled down a steep grade all of the way for about 12 miles. Our mother saw a wildcat up in the woods, so that night when we camped near the foot of a mountain she was afraid to sleep outside and couldn't sleep in the truck for fear the wildcat would get those of us who did sleep out. So she just stirred around all night.

The next day we traveled through level country and made better time. We passed cotton fields and large grape vineyards. Along the road on both sides were rows of beautiful palm trees.

We drove through Bakersfield, and there the carnations were blooming. It was so warm we took out our windows and hooked the door open. Some of us sat on the trailer and rode while others sat on the floor in the doorway of the truck.

We were traveling through level country but could see the Sierra Nevada range on the east and the Coast range on the west. Just out of Sacramento we broke the clutch. It took all day to fix that, so we did our washing while we waited.

The next day, we burned out the bearing again, about 20 miles out of Redding. By this time, we were too near broke to have it fixed again, so we sent for Tom to come down from Oregon to help fix it.

That was Saturday night, and we waited till Tuesday. He arrived [by bus] about noon, and they began to work on the truck.

There were two families living right across the road from where we camped and we spent most of our time visiting them and taking long walks. By the following Saturday morning, we were ready to go again, so we bade them goodbye in the usual way and were off to Oregon once more.

That night we camped about 25 miles from Mt. Shasta. This mountain is the second highest in the United States and stands all alone. It was covered with snow.

Next morning it was clear and calm, except for a white cloud that covered the mountain peak. This one little cloud in the clear sky seemed strange to us, so we asked a man at the filling station about it. He said that it was no cloud, but that at the top of the mountain the wind is always blowing and shifting the snow from place to place, while down below there is no breeze at all.

That afternoon we met a man driving a cattalo hitched to a little camping cart. A cattalo is a crossbreed between a cow and a buffalo. We stopped and talked to the man, and he said he had just come from Salem.

The next day we crossed over into Oregon. We traveled along smoothly with no trouble, and nothing important happened, except that we were coming nearer and nearer to our destination. We were eager to be there, but sorry our trip was so near an end.

The scenery in Oregon is very pretty. The trees are straight and tall and many different types of moss grow in the forests around the tree trunks, but also hanging from the branches.

Wednesday, March 8, Abe arose at 6:00, washed in ice water, and again traveled on towards our new home.

About 25 miles from home we went under a 10’ 8" railroad bridge with our 11' truck, and ripped off a strip two feet wide from the top of our house. We were all frightened and speckled with mule hide on our faces. But no one was hurt. Abe said he saw how low it was, but there was nothing else to do, so he hit it and went on through.

It was cool riding from there on, but we were lucky to be so near home for in Oregon at this time of year it rains so often that we might have taken a good soaking before reaching home.

We pulled into the yard about 10:00 and found Mack and her family waiting for us. We were glad to be in our new home, but were sorry that our longest, and happiest, journey was at an end.