For those that don't know, Bardy has signed up for the Oregon Gathering and bringing his 1960 Geographic. This will be his first real trip in his beautifully restored 24' fiberglass trailer that only 11 were made before the plant burned down in Medford, Oregon. He is coming from Los Angeles, California.
Here is a copy of a recent article published in the Medford Tribune--
Holiday House
Fiberglass architectural marvels were built in the off season by employees of Harry and David
By Paul Fattig
Medford Mail Tribune
After months of intense behind-the-scenes planning and preparation, company president David H. Holmes went public with the news on Dec. 1, 1959.
Harry and David, the fruit-packaging company named after Holmes' uncle and father respectively, would begin building travel trailers in the off-season of January through July.
"We feel there is an excellent opportunity to provide ourselves and the Rogue River Valley with further diversification by the local manufacturing and sale of travel trailers over the 11 Western states," he told the Mail Tribune.
"This will permit the transfer of personnel from one operation to another to maintain a high level of employment and efficiency."
The firm rolled out its first travel trailers under the brand name Holiday House by the end of February 1960. The initial trailers — 17-, 19- and 24-feet long — were built of aluminum and wood, featuring a wraparound front window and aerodynamic design.
By midsummer that year, Holmes, a World War II bomber pilot, came up with the unique idea of building space-age fiberglass trailers.
He dubbed the prototype Model X.
After the Mail Tribune ran an L.A. Times article on Nov. 16 about a fellow in Southern California who restored one of the rare Holiday House fiberglass trailers, several folks who had worked on the trailers contacted the Tribune.
"They were all beautiful trailers — everything Dave ever did was done right," said Eugene Spencer, 89, of Brookings.
Spencer, who retired from Harry and David in 1980, was there when Holmes came up with the idea of building trailers during a duck-hunting trip into the Klamath Basin with half a dozen friends.
"We needed something for off-season employment," Spencer said. "So we got in the company plane and flew to Elkhart, Indiana, and Chicago and a couple of other places to look at travel trailers. We wanted to get an idea of what we felt should be in a trailer."
They also traveled to Los Angeles to tour trailer manufacturing plants and talk to folks who crafted recreational vehicles.
Although Spencer was the firm's purchasing agent at the time, he was put in charge of the plant building the trailers in the 200 block of South Fir Street in Medford. The company sent him to Southern California to "trailer school," where he learned the rudiments of manufacturing trailers.
Herman Kambeitz, former general manager of the Arrowhead Trailer company, was hired to get the production rolling. About 70 people worked at the plant.
"We put smudge pots in the building to keep us warm at night," Spencer said of the early days of production. "When we first started, I once spent three days in the building without ever leaving."
The dedication and hard work paid off. The trailers were a hit at the Trailer Coach Association annual show in Los Angeles late in January 1960.
"Our goal was to make 25 a day," Spencer said. "But we never quite got that far. Everything was handmade. That took a lot of time."
Unfortunately, the sales were never what Holmes had hoped for, Spencer said. About 200 of the aluminum-sided trailers would be built.
"Part of the problem was that the market then was primarily in the Southwest," he said, noting other manufacturers already had the corner on the market.
That's when Holmes came up with the idea to build the fiberglass trailers. He hired leading experts in the form of award-winning automotive designer Charles Pelly, engineer Lawrence McCain and Robert B. Brophy, one of the nation's top specialists in missile and satellite fiberglass. They worked on the prototype in a plant Holmes set up in Van Nuys, Calif., although production of what came to be called the Geographic was in Medford.
"My recollection was that we built 11 of the fiberglass trailers but I wouldn't swear to it," Spencer said, adding, "That was a long time ago."
While the aluminum trailers were well-made, the 24-foot fiberglass models were far beyond any competition, observed John Ward, 73, of Ashland.
"They were absolutely state of the art," he said. "These trailers were at or beyond the limits of existing technology. They were lightweight yet exceptionally strong."
The retired chemical engineer knows of what he speaks, having worked as direct sales manager for Reichhold Chemicals Inc., a Portland firm that supplied the synthetic resin to make the trailers. Reichhold was one of the world's leading manufacturers of synthetic resins, he said.
"I came down here a lot to work with them on the fiberglass trailers," said Ward, who taught at the Oregon Institute of Technology in Klamath Falls for 29 years.
"The trailer was really shaped like a jelly bean in a way," he said, noting that required a complex molding procedure to achieve the aerodynamic contours that Pelly envisioned in the finished look. A honeycomb core of treated cardboard was sandwiched between the fine grades of fiberglass cloth and resin, he said.
The result was a extremely light — 15 ounces per square foot, according to a 1961 brochure — but surprisingly strong shell that looked sleek, he said.
"And inside, the wood they were using for the interior cabinetry was something to behold," Ward said. "The trailers were really nice. But I never could afford one."
Retired psychologist Keith Harrison, 65, of Medford, spent one summer working on the aluminum and wood trailers after graduating from Medford Senior High School in 1959.
"The fiberglass trailers were built in the basement," he recalled. "I remember when they were pouring the fiberglass. It smelled bad. It was really rank. It sure didn't make me want to go downstairs to work."
The Medford native noted that his parents had met at Harry and David's when they both worked in the office. He recalled his late father, Glenn Harrison, who rose to become an executive vice president at the firm, talking about the reason the firm tried its hand at making trailers.
"They were trying to figure out some way to keep more of the staff employed year around," Keith Harrison said. "They had some really good people working there. It was a constant source of frustration that when the packing season was over they had to lay off people."
Harrison, whose job it was to install toilets in the aluminum models, agreed the fiberglass trailers were innovative.
"It had some features I'd love to see on trailers today," said Harrison, who owns a 21-foot molded fiberglass trailer now, albeit not a Geographic. "They were probably the most advanced trailers of the time.
"The first one I saw was the model," he added of the prototype. "We always wondered what happened to it."
Bardy Azadmard, 53, an architectural designer based in Los Angeles who specializes in luxury homes, owns perhaps the only existing Geographic. A University of Oregon graduate, he was featured in the L.A. Times article which told how he bought his 1961 edition for $1,500 seven years ago.
"Rats had been living in it — there were rat droppings all over and they had peed all over the place," he told the Mail Tribune.
Yet he has had numerous offers for the trailer, including $45,000 from an actor who saw it before it was restored. Azadmard has since spent about $20,000 on restoration.
The original owner was the manager of the show room where it was being displayed, he said of the original 1962 purchase. The listing price was $8,765, he added.
In comparison, a two-bedroom home — "cute as a bug's ear" — on a large lot along Kings Highway in Medford was advertised for $6,500 in the Tribune early in 1961. A new in-board 17-foot boat was being offered for $1,695. And a new Volkswagen van could be yours for $2,257.
But the inside of the Geographic included teak walls and cabinets, stainless steel kitchen with double sink, four pull-down gas burners, refrigerator that ran on both propane and electricity, built-in heater and air conditioner, full bathroom and two sofas that pull out to become two double beds. A recessed lighting panel runs down the center of the seven-foot ceiling, front to back.
As an architect, Azadmard was mightily impressed.
"Oh God, there is so much they put into this trailer," he said. "The moment I step in, I always go, 'Wow!' There was a lot of American ingenuity back in 1960.
"The table looks like a drawer no more than two inches thick," he added. "But you pull the handle and table comes out with a leaf with the legs popping out. It's just incredible. It's amazing what they did. Everything is magic."
Unfortunately, David Holmes' dream of making the unique trailers ended on June 17, 1962, when a fire destroyed the trailer plant. Although the production of aluminum and wood trailers had ceased in January of that year, the fiberglass trailers were still being made, a company official told the Mail Tribune that day.
"That fire burned my desk and everything in it," said Spencer, who was in New York City on business at the time. "Everything I had about the trailers, photographs and everything, was lost."
David Holmes died in 2002 at the age of 79. But his space-age Modex X continues to draw interest, said Azadmard, who plans to visit the Rogue Valley with the trailer next year. "I've been invited up there by people in the camping and trailer world — evidently there is going to be a rally up there in Southern Oregon", he said. "They said I've got to bring my trailer, they really want to see it."
geographic.jpg (185.22K)
Number of downloads: 119
Register
Help
Feel free to write to me if you have any questions. ORGathering@watsonmountain.com
Back to top 
Posted 23 October 2006 - 11:22 AM
Very cool! Thanks, Gene, for all your hard work!
