One day came the thought that if he could get a photographer to make the trip with him, he could show photographic proof to the world of his now-favorite scene of adventure. His first attempt met with failure simply because the man who had the camera wanted a hundred dollars for the trip. Jim didn’t have a hundred dollars.
Along about 1920, economic conditions were mighty bad. Jim and Mrs. White were living in a shack near the cave entrance. Jim was always up at daylight, following the youthful custom long-ago established on the ranch. One morning, however, Jim didn’t rise with the dawn. For one of the few times in his married life, Mrs. White was up first.
She made coffee, then returned to the bedroom door somewhat alarmed, and asked:
“Jim, I’ve never known you to stay in bed so late ... are you sick?”
Jim laughed reassurance. “I’ve just been layin’ here since day-break, thinkin’. I’ve made up my mind I’m going to get out of this bed and start showing people that cave, whether they want to see it or not!”
“How are you going to do it?” Mrs. White inquired.
“Right now I don’t know,” Jim stated. “But when I get up, I’m going to start”.
The Iceberg—One of the interesting features of the Caverns
Jim lay still a little longer. The idea came that if the world could be made to see the cave, trails and guard-rails ought to be built, to gain even a relative amount of safety and accessibility. Jim rose, dressed, ate breakfast and started. He began moving rocks and leveling passageways through the first chamber. At dangerous ledges he searched out cracks in the rocks, into which he drove discarded axles from old automobiles. From one of these to another, Jim strung galvanized wire to serve as hand-holds. Working alone most of the time, he seemed tirelessly ready for an endless task, constantly buoyed by the thought that he was building a pathway over which many others might travel, into the incredibly beautiful fairyland so far below the hot desert.