Irish Sheepherders of Lake County Oregon
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Lake County Examiner
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 21,1937

LONELY SHEEPHERDER MYTH EXPLODED

Radio Moves In To Supply Shepherd With Advice
and All Other Information; Removes Monotony


By LOIS M. SMALL
 

    Silver Lake, Oct 20--When two sheepherders meet in Lake County now a days the questions they ask each other are not "How is the feed on the range doing?" but "How is your radio working?" and did you hear Tizzies Lish last night "? For the radio is fast becoming as much a part of camp equipment as the cook stove. Radio manufacturers, who are alive to this new channel for business, are making sets easily portable with a special carrying case to expedite packing for the frequent moving necessary to a sheep camp. They are also making them inexpensive enough to fit a working mans wages.
    So while the shepherd waits for the coffee to boil or mixes his sourdough bread in the the sack of flour, he listen to the latest news, grand opera or a football game as he fancy dictates. He can't go wrong with radio advisers on every subject at his elbow, cooking experts to tell him how much onion to put in the mulligan, the weather report to advise him whether to put on the red flannels, the physical culture director to count-one-two-while he takes his dozen and the home economic expert to admonish him not to spread his blankets crosswise.
    Between whiles he will hear about all the different breakfast foods that make a champion of him, all the panaceas to relieve his indigestion, prevent baldness and cure flat feet, all the various brands of cigarettes, soups and desserts without which his life is a barren Sahara, until he wonders how he lived to his present age without these marvels.
Finally the myth that herders go crazy from loneliness will certainly be exploded. Like other people he may go frantic from listening to too much swing music, too many crooners, too "Crimes never pays : stories. And if someday he should kick the radio over their cook stove, deciding he prefers to listen to the wind sigh through the pines, the lonesome cry of coyotes and the plaintive bleating of the sheep, who can blame him?