Echoes from the Forest: Life in the CCC Camps

Enrollee, 1930s America

I was just 19 when the train rolled westward, taking me from the breadlines of Sioux City to the rugged hills outside what was then the little village of Pactola, South Dakota. The Great Depression had left my family with no work and little hope. That’s when the Civilian Conservation Corps — FDR’s bold new program — gave us a lifeline. I joined up not knowing where I’d be sent, only that I’d be fed, housed, and paid a dollar a day. For a kid in 1933, that was a fortune.

I ended up at Camp F-4 Pactola, nestled in the ponderosa pines that now lie beneath the waters of Pactola Reservoir. We lived in plain wooden barracks, long and drafty, heated by a single stove. Each morning began with reveille and flag-raising. We worked ten-hour days building fire roads, thinning trees, building bridges, and improving forest access trails — some of which locals still hike or drive today without knowing who laid the first path.

Barracks at Camp Pactola - Courtesy Jay Hendrickson

What we were doing out there wasn’t just manual labor; it was nation-building. Many of the men in my unit had never owned a proper coat or eaten three square meals a day. Yet out there in the hills, side by side, we earned back our pride and our futures. And we left something behind — not just the trails and towers, but a legacy of craftsmanship, integrity, and service.

Living in the hills, you’re standing on the bones of our work. Though the original town and all of the old camp were flooded when the dam was completed in the 1950s, a few CCC buildings were relocated — rough-hewn officer’s quarters, barracks, and tool sheds. They stand as silent sentinels of a generation that believed in shared sacrifice and tangible results. These aren’t just old structures — they are living history. That’s why preserving them matters.

Why it matters

“Not many buildings remain” says Otto Bochman of the CCC Museum of South Dakota. “Some are in private hands. There is the Peterson’s in Custer Camp, a couple by the CCC museum in Hill City by the Visitor Center, one by Black Hills Playhouse (Camp Lodge) , there are some log cabins from the CCC era, and three buildings by Rockerville owned by the Gross family.” About saving history, Bochman says: “rather than repair they would tear it down but you tear down history when you do that”. He is very excited that Silver City is taking steps to save one of the best preserved CCC structures in the State.

“The guys are all gone now” says Bochman. A local CCC celebrity was Jay Hendrickson who died recently at 100. He worked at Mystic camp. “At that time, many came because they were skinny and weak” says Bochman who got to speak to a few like Jay. “Very seldom would you get a negative comment. They would work hard and still send a little money back home. No complaints, just camaraderie and fondness. They built a lot of infrastructure along wind cave and Custer State Park”

Barracks to be moved in July 2025 to new site by School House in Silver City

Today, Each CCC building is a monument to a time when Americans came together to pull each other through hardship. In an age where division and digital disconnection are predominant, these physical spaces remind us of what unity looked like. They’re not just artifacts — they’re anchors. And once lost, that living connection to our past is gone forever.

To those of you who hike the trails, fish the waters, or pass the foundations scattered in the forest — take a moment. Think of the men who swung axes and hauled timber not for profit, but for pride. They didn’t just shape the land. The land shaped them.