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Woman of the River

Georgie White Clark, White-Water Pioneer

University Press of Colorado

Swimming Rapids in Grand Canyon, 1944–1945

Georgie White and Harry Aleson stared at the raging, silt-laden Colorado River. The awesome beauty of Grand Canyon would be lost on the pair for the next four days as they fought the swirling brown water. It was June of 1945, just a month after V.E. Day, and the two had decided to swim the lower reaches of the Grand Canyon from Diamond Creek to Lake Mead.

From Boulder City, Nevada, they had taken a bus to Peach Springs, Arizona, on U.S. 66, where they stripped down to swimsuits, tennis shoes, and shirts. Each wore a life preserver and a backpack which held a malt can containing a light jacket, sugar candy, powdered coffee, dehydrated soup, and their cameras and film. They had asked the sheriff in Peach Springs to ship the rest of their clothes back to Boulder City. After a hot twenty-mile hike down to the Colorado River, they were faced with a rampaging, debris-filled stream at the height of spring runoff. The swift current carried along trees and other driftwood the rains had washed down from side canyons. Lashing waves crashed against the shore rocks with an ominous roar. And, as happens with all floods of this kind, the air was filled with the pungent odor of rotting vegetation.

The pair had planned to swim awhile and climb out whenever they were tired, but with the current so strong this would be risky, Their swim began at about Mile 221. Harry waded in first; the current grabbed him, knocked off his hat, and soon swept him out of sight around a bend. There was nothing for Georgie to do but follow. She jumped in and immediately felt quite helpless as she was carried along by the powerful current. Until then she did not know the great power of the water. She soon realized that she was at the mercy of the river.

Eventually Georgie was swept into an eddy near the edge of the river where she was able to swim to shore and climb out. Along the way she thought she had seen Harry in an eddy she had passed. As she sat gasping for breath she stared at the river, hoping to catch sight of him. Soon after, she heard a shout from downstream. Apparently Harry had passed by while she was climbing out of the river. Harry had spotted her and gotten to shore as soon as he could.

They knew that from then on they should stay together if at all possible. As the pair sat resting, they devised a hand and wrist lock that proved to work very well. One would grip the other's right wrist with his or her left hand while the other hung onto the left wrist with the right hand. They then reentered the river, and it sped them downstream at a terrific pace. Georgie recalled, "For the next six hours we careened through the rapids, fought giant waves and bounced around like two bobbing corks. It was like riding a roller coaster made of water."

The wrist grip worked well and the two swimmers stayed locked together. They tried repeatedly to get to shore to rest, but the powerful current kept them moving. Near dark they were swept into a giant whirlpool that swirled them viciously around. Georgie later said, "In that water, passing at 125,000 cubic feet a second, those giant whirlpools had a life of their own." The wrist lock which had worked so well all afternoon now worked against them. The eye of the whirlpool sucked them down like a flushed toilet, one feet first and the other head first. When they were able to come up for a breath of air, the order was reversed. As Georgie remembers it, "The first time I plunged into the hole, time stood still, and my lungs began to burn. When I thought I couldn't hold my breath any longer, I burst out, gulped for air, and went under again."

Georgie and Harry were on top just long enough to gasp some air before being sucked down again. The third time down, Georgie thought it was the end. She held her nose with her free hand, trying to stave off the inevitable, and then suddenly they were on top again and close enough to shore to grab onto a rock ledge. They hung on desperately until they could gain enough strength to climb out.

They wanted to build a fire, but there wasn't a single piece of driftwood on the narrow ledge where they were stranded. So they both had to settle for instant coffee made from cold, muddy river water. The rest of their supper was made up of a few pieces of candy. Huddled together on the narrow rock ledge, they tried to get some rest. They kept on their cold, wet life preservers lest they should fall into the river during the night. There would be little sleep for either of them.

At dawn they drank more cold coffee and ate a few more pieces of candy. When they got a good look at the river they were amazed and delighted to see that the whirlpool had disappeared during the night. Adjusting their packs, they resumed their wrist lock and jumped in. The pair encountered little trouble the rest of the way but were half-starved by the end of the second day, having eaten only a little candy, soup, and coffee.

A few years earlier Harry had established a tent camp in Quartermaster Canyon, which he christened "My Home, Arizona." Harry had come up by boat a short time earlier and cached food there, so he and Georgie planned to stop and have a solid meal. By then they would be in the calmer waters of Lake Mead and anticipated no problems getting ashore. As they approached Quartermaster Canyon they worked their way toward shore, but as hard as they swam, the current still carried them almost a mile downstream before they were able to land. Exhausted, they then had to scramble back over the rocks to reach Harry's camp. Georgie said, "It was worth the effort, however, and to this day I'll never forget how good that meal tasted."

After eating and resting they continued to swim the waters of Lake Mead. On the third day they encountered a huge log jam created by the large amount of driftwood coming down the river. The logs would not hold them up and there was no way to swim between them, so they had to walk around. Headwinds also slowed their progress, but the two were able to swim most of the time. Their swim ended on the lake at Pierce Ferry, about five miles from the Grand Wash Cliffs. From there they hiked out to the highway where they could flag down a Greyhound bus.

In those days bus drivers would stop for anyone who waved them down. Harry and Georgie were wearing only bathing suits, shirts, and tennis shoes. Harry had not shaved for several days, and Georgie had not even brought a comb for her hair. Passengers on the bus must have done some tall wondering about the two of them. But soon the pair was back in Boulder City where they could recover the rest of their clothes.

Harry Aleson

Fate had brought these two adventurers together a year earlier. Harry was a man of medium build and thinning hair. Born Harry Leroy Asleson on March 9, 1899, in Waterloo, Iowa, he later changed his name to Aleson. While serving in World War I he had been gassed. This left him with chronic stomach problems, for which he received a small pension. During the Great Depression he worked at a number of jobs, including some with various geophysical firms searching for oil in the Southwest. This brought him into contact with the Colorado River and Grand Canyon, and "he soon gave up any desires for a life apart from the river." It also cost him his marriage. He and his wife, Thursa Arnold, whom he married in 1928, were separated in 1940.

From his tent camp in Quartermaster Canyon, Aleson made explorations of the Grand Canyon and the lower Colorado River system. This made him a popular river guide and somewhat of an authority on that section of the river.

In 1945 Aleson changed his winter headquarters to the Johnston Hotel in Richfield, Utah, where he earned part of his room and board by working as night clerk. From there he organized the dozens of San Juan River/Glen Canyon trips that were his main source of income during the summer. He took pictures of the canyon lands during his explorations and gave illustrated lectures about them.

Georgie's Early Life

Georgie was a slim, athletic woman of medium height with piercing turquoise-blue eyes. She claimed to have been born and reared in Chicago, where she learned to swim in the cold water of Lake Michigan. She was, in fact, born in Oklahoma and spent most of her childhood in Denver, Colorado. Her birth certificate shows that she was born Bessie DeRoss at Guymon, Oklahoma, November 13, 1910, to George W. DeRoss and (Mary) Tamor Fisher. The 1920 census for Denver, Colorado, lists a George DeRoss, 45; wife Tamor DeRoss, 42; daughter Marie, 16; son Paul, 12; and a daughter Georgia, 9. Tomboy Bessie had apparently taken on her father's given name at an early age. The Denver city directories show nothing of them for the year 1921, but it lists the DeRoss family living there from 1922 through 1926. In 1927 there is no DeRoss mentioned in the Denver directory, but they were again listed as living there in 1928, 1929, and 1930.

Georgie's father, a tenant farmer and miner of French descent, worked at various sites in Oklahoma, Colorado, and New Mexico. He was away for long periods of time and sent little money home to his family. His wife, Tamor, worked as a laundress to support herself and the children. Georgie's parents had married December 4, 1898, at Stroud, Oklahoma (Tamor's home). They were divorced March 23, 1933, in Fremont County, Colorado. His grounds for divorce were that she deserted him.

According to Georgie, the family was quite poor but her mother had an upbeat philosophy. She told her children when you are at the bottom, everything has to be up. She admonished them never to cry because they would only be crying their own lives away.

She also taught them privacy, something Georgie would cherish for the rest of her life. They all lived in one big room, but Tamor made partitions of canvas so they each could have a territory to call their own. Within these spaces were a pad for a bed and enough hangers for their clothes. No one was allowed to intrude into the others' spaces. Tamor would not stand for any arguing, and when someone did, she would say, "If you can't be pleasant to one another, why, just go to your pad!"

Georgie was a life-long vegetarian. This came about, she said, simply because she did not like meat. While she was growing up, the family only had meat once or twice a week. Even then, she would give her portion to her brother or sister and just eat the vegetables. She mostly ate cabbage, rice, tomatoes, and potatoes. Tomatoes, canned or raw, were her lifetime favorite food, closely followed by avocadoes.

While still in high school, Georgie met a handsome, all- American, six-foot, blond young man named Harold Clark. She married him in Denver on January 22, 1928. Her mother had hoped that she would finish school before getting married, but she understood Georgie had strong sex needs and could not, in that day and time, fulfill them outside of marriage. A daughter, Sommona Rose, was born to them in Denver on March 21, 1929.

Georgie and Paul had been indifferent students, while their older sister, Marie, excelled in her studies. Marie obtained a teaching certificate and taught school in the Denver area for several years. Georgie worked at various jobs including cigarette girl in a night club and toiling in a rubber factory. She also learned how to operate a comptometer.

As the Depression deepened, jobs became harder to find, so in about 1931 she and Harold left Sommona Rose with Georgie's mother and went to Florida to look for work. Finding no jobs there, they took a bus to New York City. In New York Georgie found work as a comptometer operator for Radio City; Harold was unable to find a job of any kind. Their favorite haunt was Central Park, where they became fascinated with bicyclists practicing for six-day bicycle races. Georgie easily made friends with the cyclists and they taught her how to ride.

On August 2, 1936, Georgie, always restless, set out with Harold for California on two racing bikes given to them by their new friends. The racing bikes had hard, narrow seats and Georgie said after the first day out she rode mostly standing up. After a few hundred miles their leg muscles became toughened, and it was easier going. They did not own a sleeping bag, so at night they would go a short distance away from the road and sleep on the ground. Occasionally they would work for a farmer for food and then sleep in his haystack. Most people outside of the big cities were friendly, so Georgie and Harold never felt threatened. Those were the days of the Depression and many displaced people were traveling West.

Georgie said the two of them left New York with just one week's salary from her job to get by on, so they did not have enough for the luxury of a bath. She knew most rooming houses had a bathroom in the hallway; when she spotted one she would walk in, find an open bathroom, take a bath, and change clothes. She never could get Harold to do it.

From Chicago on they traveled via Route 66. It was the first paved cross-country highway, stretching over two thousand miles from Chicago to Santa Monica, California, and it was the easiest way west.

When they arrived at Fontana, California, the two only had one dollar left. Upon seeing a sign, "Grape Pickers Wanted," they applied, claiming to be experienced pickers. They managed by watching how others did the job. After earning four dollars in two days, they headed for Los Angeles, and by the time they arrived, they were almost broke again. Georgie had a large diamond Harold's mother had given her as a wedding present. She found a pawn shop and hocked it so they would have something to live on until they found work.

Georgie claims she got a job within a week with a horse- racing bookie. But sensing the place might soon be raided, she quit that job after a few weeks, just before it was shut down by the police! She seemed always able to find work, even when jobs were scarce. In Los Angeles, she found employment as a comptometer operator once again.

Soon after Georgie and Harold settled in Los Angeles, her mother, sister, brother, and daughter joined them. Georgie recalled:

Over the next few years I grew restless and moved from Los Angeles to Chicago and back several times. About this time Harold and I went our separate ways. Husbands have always come second with me. Harold just didn't want to move around like I did, so we agreed to part. Later I filed for and obtained a divorce.

The above stories certainly have some truth in them, but they are as yet undocumented. According to the divorce papers, Harold walked out on Georgie more than a year before the divorce, stating that he was tired of married life. Georgie was living in Chicago when she filed for divorce from Harold Clark in March 1941. At the divorce proceedings she claimed she and Harold had lived in Chicago for nine years, which, if true, meant she had been living there since at least 1932. (When they first moved to Chicago, Georgie's mother, daughter, and sister apparently went along. Her brother followed a couple of years later.)

During those early years in Los Angeles, according to Georgie, she joined the Sierra Club and did a lot of hiking, rock climbing, and skiing. Outdoor sports were not so popular then, and when she and her small group of enthusiasts would go cross-country skiing they would have practically all of the Sierra Nevada Mountains to themselves. One of the people she often hiked with was Elgin Pierce, who would later accompany her on her first rafting trip through Grand Canyon. She also organized a bicycle club called "Hollywood Wheelmen," and members would often pedal to San Diego or other coastal towns on weekends.

On February 6, 1942, she married James Ray White in Los Angeles. Whitey, as he was called, drove an oil tanker for Wade Transport. He was born in South Dakota in 1895 or 1896. At the time of his marriage, he stated his age as thirty-five. This was later amended by affidavit to correct his age at marriage to forty-six. His father was born in Russia and his mother in Norway. Some friends tried to warn Georgie that he was an alcoholic, but she naively thought he was a social drinker. At the time of their marriage, Georgie did not use the name Bessie, identifying herself instead as Georgie Helen Clark; she listed her birthplace as Chicago, Illinois. The reason for this deception is unknown. Sommona lived with Georgie from then on, and together they hiked the mountains around Los Angeles. They also did a lot of bicycling together.

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Excerpted from Woman of the River by Richard E. Westwood. Copyright © 1997 Utah State University Press. Excerpted by permission of University Press of Colorado.
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