John Wolford

Hello, Nelson Olstead here. Today's story proves that true friendship transcends both time and distance. Before I begin, here's Clint Groover speaking for Pacific Power. Welcome once again to Stories of Pacific Power Land, a presentation of Pacific Power and Light, the company that has been serving the electric needs of the region's homes, farms and industries through more than half a century of progress and growth.

Now, back to Pacific Powerland's favorite storyteller, Nelson Olmsted. The European war had just come to an end, and the streets of Salzburg, Austria rumbled beneath the wheels of the United States Army vehicles and echoed to the tread of American occupation troops. Among these troops was a strapping young soldier from Clement Falls, Oregon, whose name was Sergeant John Wolford. John, who'd grown up in the fertile, bountiful

land of southern Oregon was appalled by the poverty and confusion he saw about him. He said, Boy, I should feel sorry for a lot of these folks around the town. They look like they never need to have a home or decent pair of shoes on their feet. Where do they all come from anyway?

Displaced persons, most of them, refugees, lots of them come from Hungary. Well, in addition to being a compassionate man, Sergeant John Wolford was also a a gregarious fellow. Before long he struck up in a quinches with one of the refugees who worked in the Army Miss Hall. His new friend told him, my name is Frank Bakundi, we come

from Hungary. It has been long and hard, but the war is now over. We hope to go home someday. Well, John discovered that Frank Bakundi was the head of a family, a wife, two little girls and a grandmother. The refugees lived along with two other families in what John described as a chicken shack, not far from the Army barracks. The soldier from Southern Oregon