The Ferenghi Part 2 Justice is observed

The class began just like any other class , I was borrowing a new erasure from a friend , I had tossed my third sheet of drafting paper in the waste paper basket , missing only once . The clock hit 2:10 and our teacher excused himself . As soon as the door shut My friend BV sprung into action . BV was everything I was not ..His exploits were legendary at Benson , He was easily the best in all the shop classes ....it is rumored that the character of McGyver was actually based on him . Using only a spoon taken from the cafeteria , a paper clip a used piece of bubble gum and a Cotton swab within Minutes BV had completely removed the entire door knob assembly from the door . He then raced downstairs and buried the hardware behind the large Rhody bush in front of the School . Racing back to his seat he was there for just a few minutes catching his breath as the Ferenghi returned to the room . All of us tried as hard as possible to ignore the look of frustration and anger on the teachers face , as He stormed around the room looking in all the obvious hiding places . He then ordered all of us to empty our desks ....but the Door Knob assembly was not to be found . The 3 o'clock bell rang and we all escaped under the Ferenghis steely gaze ...Careful not to give BV away we simply melted away.

The next day ...we entered class ...Our teacher made one last plea for the door knob to be returned ..then each of us was sent to the Principals office . We went in groups of 5 ...but were greeted by the Principle individually . We were encouraged to tell all , to break the code of silence that had developed between us students and the Student responsible for the caper . My questioning was Similar to the others . It began with Mr R telling me He knew I knew who did it and it would be in my best interests to tell him . I responded quickly that I had no idea who had taken the door knob , that in fact I had forgot to remove my welding googles and they were covered by smudge from my most recent welding shop explosion . Mr R said He heard about the Explosion , but he doubted I was still wearing the googles . I was trapped , and yetI fell back to the usual position of deny , deny, deny,

Eventually he let me slink away ...I had been true to the code .

As it turned out none of us gave up BV . It was also rumored that the entire class was wearing welding googles they had forgot to remove , with the exception of JB who had forgot to wear his glasses ,,,,no one had seen who took the Door knob .

For several days the Door remained knobless . It was as if the School Administration was saying " we will out last your feeble and immature efforts to protect the guilty" .

Then a week later it reappeared ,,,,the door knob was back ,,,,a little . dirty , stained by the red clay , and strangled by new roots ...but it was back .

BV was not there . each of us looked accusingly at each other ...someone had betrayed the code of silence ! But who ?

Once again we were summoned to the Principles office . I watched , as each grim faced student emerged from the Office , paper work in hand ...All of us had been caught in a lie and each of us was being punished .

It was my turn. Mr R told me to sit down , fixed me with an almost joyful look . He explained to me that he knew for sure that all of us in the class had lied to him , that each of us had been untruthful to him , He barely skipped a beat when I Mentioned that he was being redundant . He went on to explain that BV had come to his office and out of guilt confessed to the Crime , and had also told MR that everyone in the class knew it was him who removed the Door Knob , then BV accompanied by Mr R went outside and dug up the hidden Door Knob.

All of us who had Lied to protect our friend ..were being suspended . In my case since I had already been suspended 3 other times for fighting ,,,, my suspension meant I was being expelled from Benson . I owuld have to go to Wilson High School beginning my Junior year .

Mr R asked me how I felt about that ? But He had a very hard tome hearing my answer above the my muted screams of delight that echoed through the halls.

In retrospect this all seemed a little Ironic ....BV who alone removed the Door Knob was not suspended , instead He was commended for his coming forth in honesty . He was also commended for his expertise in removing the door knob , and in subsequent years used as a consultant for tricky Class room repairs . In time a Trophy with his name on it would be laced in the school trophy case . The trophy was awarded each year to the most imaginative shop student of the year . Of course the Door Knob Caper became the source of Legend .

Those of us who kept our silence , are long gone . No mention of our sacrifice , no trophies for us , no Legends .

I do not know what ever happened to our Drafting teacher . I Hope in time He became more loving , more graceful ..or that he was deported back to Germany to face various war crimes ,or perhaps beamed up to the Ferenghi Mother ship and debriefed about us crazy earthlings .

My parents while genuinely upset that I had failed Benson were oddly pleased that I had not betrayed my friend ...Nothing I could have done would have had the same results ..I Left Benson not in disgrace but as a Martyr to the code of silence .... Two years at Wilson was a well deserved sentence

The Ferenghi

 

I started really piling up money working at Cromwell tailors .I would rush to work from Benson , and stay as late as I could . I would also work on Saturday . My Paychecks were getting bigger and bigger. My Demolay life was really occupying a lot of my time as well . The problem was Benson. By now I had begun to really think I had made a mistake . I was ready to embrace a Coed High School education , more specifically I was ready to embrace a Coed . My Sophomore year was drawing to a close , I had yet to successfully complete a Industrial Arts project . I had given up on my wrestling and football career , I was starting to notice girls , but Benson was a guy only school , and the cafeteria workers were all married already. My Parents were unwilling for me to transfer to Wilson High School , they thought I was just going through a phase in shop classes and once my acne clear up I would be able to handle a sprocket wrench with the best of them .

Despite my best plans and my best failures A junior year at Benson seemed inevitable ...Then came the Miracle .

My deliverance did not at first look like a miracle ..it looked more like Drafting Class. Drafting was a required class for Sophomores . We had to take three Semesters of Drafting ...At first I though Drafting would be fun ..first of all It wasn't really a shop class, I wouldn't have to make anything ..I would simply draw what I wanted to make , My mind could become an extension of my hands . In fact for most of the Summer leading up to the Drafting Class I was excited . I thought this may very well be How I make my mark . My enthusiasm continued until the day I got my Drafting supplies . To be honest I was overwhelmed ...the supplies for Drafting exceeded the combined supplies for all of my other classes . The Drafting bok itself needed a small hand cart to transport it . Then there was the bundle of drafting paper , the T square , the calipers , ( several sizes ) drafting pencils , erasers , Protractors , retractors, detractors ..even a slide rule ..And every single item of Drafting supplies had lots of witting ,indicators , and complicated wording and indention's on it !. Somehow I had come to believe that Drafting was a free hand exercise ..it was beginning to look more complicated .

The first day of class only confirmed my fears . The Drafting Room was directly across the street from the Franz Bakery . Franz was one of the largest bakeries in Portland . It operated non stop and the entire room was permeated with the smell of fresh baked bread . The room had about twenty stations for Students ...I selected one close to the door . About middle of the room . It took several minutes to unpack the Drafting gear. And then in He came . Our drafting teacher was very interesting ...my suspicion for many months was that He had slipped in under the radar and had been a high ranking member of the Gestapo in Nazi Germany . He was mean and ill tempered ..he was also very short , and had huge ears ( all to better to hear us with ) .His forehead was permanently marked with huge creases that seemed to circle his entire head . Much later I would realize that He was a Ferenghi , but I was totally unfamiliar with that Alien life form when I was in High School .

The Ferenghi had unusually high standards for us . He expected , demanded that we be able to draw a straight line with our T squares , He insisted that we Spell our names correctly and that we print them in a precise and legible way . It only took me a few minutes to understand this man was against every principle I had ever come to believe as good and true . His idea of perfection was perfection my idea of  perfection was abstraction .

We began our Drafting career by witting our names on our Drafting paper . Sounds easy ..but it had to be very precise . Each letter had to fit the lines both top and bottom . Hand lettered in block print ..all uniform , no mixing Tahoma with Comic San's . This was Times Roman country . It didn't take me long to wish my name was IIIII or LLLL , my name Ken Stilger mocked me . E's were a real hurdle , and the S was insurmountable . While other students were soon doing perspective drawings of a nuclear reactor , I was still trying to develop an artist S on my last name .

To be fair I did develop a pretty good overhand lob toward the wastepaper basket . I asked the Ferhengie if I could get credit for that and He glared at me .

He actually glared at me a lot ...The sound of my rubber erasure was particularly annoying to him as was the small mound of pink refuse around my desk and under it .

As the School year came to a close , most of us in the class were ready for the Ferenghi to be transported back to the Mother ship. Several students had realized He was a regular guy ..by regular we mean Regular ..every after noon at 2:10 He would excuse himself for a 10 minute bathroom break. It was on once such particular day that Fate intervened and the wheels would be set in motion that would end up bringing me to Wilson High School ...It happened like this .

Financing Demolay

 

 

When I started going to High School I had a part time Job at the Oregon State Department of geology . l did odd jobs around the office , including making the Oregon Gemstone and Mineral sample kits the Department sold to the public. The Kits came in two sizes Regular and Large ..I believe the regular size contained 24 sections each with a different Oregon Mineral or Gemstone , and the large with 36 . Each sample ahd its place and in each place was a brief description of the Sample . ON the inside lid of the box was a map of Oregon showing where the samples could be found. The Geology Department offices were on the top floor of a ten story building in downtown Portland . From our vantage point we could see the Willamette river the Ross Island Bridge , Mt Hood , Mt Adams and Mt St Helens . The view was breathtaking . In the foreground I could make out part of Benson High School and the Portland general electric Complex where my Dad worked .

There was a large storage room in the office that held a significant amount of rock samples ..and I would go into the storage area and select a sample then with the aid of a hydraulic rock crusher break it into sample size fragments suitable for the sample kits . I had my own little Laboratory and work area , for this service I earned $1.00 an hour . Occasionally I would be allowed to go into the " field " with some of our Geologists who were mapping and searching for Mineral and Oil deposits . I worked weekdays after school , the bus from Benson would leave me off just a block from the office . Even in those days Portland had an excellent transportation system . Usually I would be picked up by my father on his way home from work . I believe it was on the Bus from Benson that I met a young man whose name I have forgotten who told me about a better paying job at a place called Cromwell Tailors . Cromwell Tailors still did some tailoring , but their largest revenue source was in Men's Formal wear rental . Proms , Weddings were the biggest markets .

I was hired at Cromwell Tailors the beginning of my Sophomore year . The pay was more than three times that which I received at the Oregon State Department .

 I began in the Shoe department .  

 I polished shoes ..lots and lots of shoes . Sorting shoes , cleaning shoes , sorting again , polishing shoes , applying shoe black to the soles , sorting them , setting them into the proper bags for the weekend orders. Appropriately the "shoe department " was in the basement . of the business ...there were about 3 or four of us working in that area . Two of us went to Benson the other two went to Wilson High . We would sit downstairs polish shoes and discuss , homework , girls , more home work and more girls . It was in the basement of Cromwell Tailors that I first heard of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings , and where i began to realize what I was missing at Benson High School . You see Benson did not have any girls ....it must have taken me 2 years to figure that out. But in that first year at Cromwell I realized something important was missing from School. And then my initiation into Demolay confirmed it . I was earning money but no girlfriends to spend it on . A change was a coming ...but I did not see it coming .....the course of the stars had been mapped out and I a pawn in the great confluence of the cosmos was about to be sent in orbit around a different High School .

Demolay Basics

 

 

 

 

I was really Impressed with the whole thing especially the memorization and drama parts . I also

liked the idea that there were a few Adults who while staying in the background obviously had the respect of the Young men in the group .

Our meetings were conducted by Roberts rules of Order and we really followed them and respected the rules as well . Our discussions might get lively but they were formally civilized we were like Ambassadors only we didn't bomb each other .

It was in DeMolay I began to understand how to work in groups , and the importance of " paying your dues " The leading officers of the group were elected officers ...We elected a Scribe/ Treasurer . the Junior Councillor , the Senior Councillor and the Master Councillor. Once elected to the position of Junior Councillor you would usually run through the chairs and end up as Master Councillor . Besides those offices there were several others which were appointed by the Master Councillor . The route to be Master Councillor began with being appointed as a officer. I found that if they didn't know you wouldn't get appointed . And the way to get known was to participate in the work of the Chapter . and we did a lot of work . We held Car washes , and breakfasts , we volunteered for several things . And as one of the most popular Chapters in the State we were also invited to a lot of Outside events mostly involving girls . The girls involved were either Members of the Jobs Daughters / Bethel or Rainbow Girls . Bethel seemed more popular in the City and Rainbow was more popular in the Smaller cities surrounding Portland .

These groups also were connected to the Masonic Order . and they were set up similar to Demolay in organization. Three times a year they would change officers , and three times a year they would have a Installation of Officers . Demolay chapters were chosen by the various Girls groups to participate in the installation we would act as escorts and also provide an Arch of Swords for the duly elected Queen to walk under while escorted by our Master Councillor . The installation would end with a Dance and party and an opportunity to mingle . Its important to note that Mingling meant different things to different people , but all of this was done with the watchful eyes of well trained Chaperones . Many of the Demolay guys I know ended up marrying a young lady they met in Bethel or Rainbow . As a chapter we had a lot of events , events cost money . So we were constantly raising money . We had two go to Money raisers ...One was the Car wash . We did particularly well one year when Jerry Kirk dressed up in His Lime green short shorts with a tied died Tee Shirt and matching Socks was our front man . We also had a Yearly event the Demolay Pancake Breakfast which attracted crowds from as far away as Tigard and Hillsdale . This event was Huge with a line usually stretching around the block . Dad Woody was our go to Short order cook , but just about every active Member pitched in to help out , from cooking to delivering the goods and clean up . we had other money raising events I know once i tried to sell my brother , but he had gotten too old to be graceful about my efforts to market him .

I have reached out to several of my former Demolay friends and continue to urge them to contact me with their Memories ..about these events and obviously countless others i have forgotton . IN future chapters we will explore the Demolay work ethinc , Why Demolay worked , Dating and other miracles , also subtitled " why Basements ? " .

This to my Demolay friends from the past : Our cars : I remember Doug Atterbury's Pick up truck , Fred Mimms Dodge GT , John earls pristine 55 Chevy  and Jerry Kirk's Mustang ..what other cars were pulling up on Wednesday nights ? ...More later ...

DeMolay part one of ???

 

IT was during my freshman year at Benson High School I joined a Group called DeMolay . My father had been very involved with the local Masonic Lodge ( Orenomah 177 ) The Masons sponsored a Young mans Group and Young woman's group . The boys group was the Demolay it was opened to young boys between the ages of 12 and 21 . IN order to be a member of Demolay you had to be vouched for by a Mason ( Not a relative ) then go through an initiation process and be voted on by members of the chapter . I remained active in Demolay until my 21 st Birthday and during that entire time I never saw a person who was not voted in to be a member .

Demolay was along with the Dance lessons the single most important character building factor in my life .

To be concise I thrived in the Demolay Culture .

DeMolay is open for membership to young men between the ages of 12 to 21 of good character who acknowledge a higher power. The group model is of mentoring; adult men and women called advisors, often past DeMolay members or parents of DeMolays, mentor the active DeMolay members. An advisor is referred to as "Dad Smith" instead of "Mr. Smith". Appropriate ways for the young men to address their adult guides were discussed by the members and advisors early on, and "Dad" was adopted as the best way to convey both friendliness and respect. Advisor mentoring focuses on the development of civic awareness, leadership skills, and personal responsibility.
DeMolay has seven Virtues , which constitute the basic ideals and essential teachings of the organization. They are: Filial love (love between a parent and child), Reverence for the sacred things , courtesy , , comradship , fidelity , cleanness , and Patriotism .
There was a dress code for our formal meetings and school casual for all others . We met once a week at Orenomah Masonic Lodge .
New Members went through two Initiation Meetings in the first Initiation meeting we were blindfolded and led into a room where all the Members were assembled , the officers of the organization were in robes and had assigned positions . We were led in prayer and promised ot not to divulge the " secrets " of the organization . Blind folds were removed and as a group we moved from officer to officer who then " Instructed " us on a part of the Demolay Culture . This was very formal and scripted , all Members who participated in the degree were required to have their individual portions memorized .
Before being fully accepted as Members we had one more Degree or Initiation to go through . This was more like a Drama . The New Members were seated so as to best view the pageant tht was to unfold . The Drama was the reenactment of the persecution and eventual death of Jaques Demolay the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar . The Knights Templar has always been a very mystical organization rising to power during the crusades they were pledged to give all their possessions ot the Organization and then they were trained and mustered to protect the Pilgrims in the Holy land from Bandits and organized warriors . In later years the Knights Templar became a target for King Phillip the Fair of France who moved secretly against the powerful Order and who decimated it almost overnight . His main purpose was to confiscate its wealth but He was unable to ever locate , neither has anyone else ..one of Histories Mysteries . IN this Process The Grand Master Jaques Demolay was tortured offered clemency if he would hand over the money and give up the names of those who had escaped the round up ..He refused as was burned at the stake .
His death served as a Lesson for all of the virtues that Demolay stood for . After watching this Degree ..there was one more it of business ...one fo the Members would give to us an Oration refereed to as the " flower talk " which was a eloquent and moving testimony in praise of women in general and our mothers in particular ...For this moment parents were allowed into the Assembly including the mothers ..after hearing this we were confirmed as members .
All of this had a tremendous impact on me ....

The Art of Brawling

Machine shop was just the beginning : I may have been the only person in the History of Benson High School to Fail all 6 Shop Classes and still have " passing " grades " . In welding class I blew out a portion of the wall by turning off the wrong combination of Acetylene and Oxygen. IN sheet Metal I spent more time in the nurses office having my wounds cared for than working on my projects . I shocked myself silly in electrical class . In automotive class I lost three of six pistons , and finally I almost made it through Aeronautics class but in a fit of fury and rage I Broke my assignment ( a section of airplane wing scale size ) over the Shop Bully's head .

When I was in School I had an anger problem ..it started probably in the seventh grade , maybe earlier . As I grew older I began to realize that some of my peers would often resort to bullying and intimidation to get what they wanted ...and as a smaller more bulliable person it bothered me . Usually I could disarm them with my Head assets . But starting in the those late grades I began to use my head in a much different way . Usually as a target for a well aimed uppercut . The usual scenario would be for me to take a stand usually after one of my friends had been pushed around and call the bully out , the bully would then tell me to mind my own business , I would say something brilliant and witty and he would then knock me down . I would then grab him by the ankles and drive him to the ground where we would both end up punching each other , to the sounds of the cheers and jeers of the onlooking school . If I was lucky there was a teacher within a few feet who promptly broke things up and both of us were then sent to the principals office where we would leer at each other , be interrogated by Mrs Carney . and then forced to shake hands and apologize to each other . The bully would apologize to me for hitting me and i would apologize to him for letting Him hit me . MY Caustic wit would usually give me some extra time in detention , while the bully could back out on the play ground and bully some more .

By the time I had entered High School I had perfected this whole routine . I learned for experience to time my move so as to be in close proximity to a Teacher . IN High School I also went out for wresting to improve my take down move and when I practiced in the wrestling room I always wrestled against boys bigger than me , not too difficult as I weighed in around 110 . At Benson I also tried out for the Football team . I was very fast ..but instead of using my speed to elude the defence I ran right at them enjoying the collision . By the end of the Freshmen football season I decided it would be better for the PIL ( Portland interscholastic League ) to abandon a football career . And to put all my efforts into trying to keep my grades high enough to stay in Benson .

Iron sharpens Iron but you have to have a clue

 

I do not have a very good Idea how it came to pass that I would go to Benson High School. Benson Polytechnic High School was what would now be called a Magnet School . It drew on students from all over the Portland Metropolitan area . Its focus was on an Industrial Arts and Science curriculum .

The School was located in SE Portland, near a newly opened Mall ( the Lloyd Center ) which was billed as the largest Mall in the Northwest . The Lloyd Center was opened August 1st and I entered Benson High School the day after Labor day in September 1960.

Looking back through my life I can easily see the reason and the good that came out of almost all of my life experiences ..Benson is the exception . If I could relive any part of my life it would have been the two years I spent at the school .

I suspect my parents encouraged me to go to Benson because of my interest in Science , and knowing my own personality I must have at least been neutral about the idea . In other words I am not going to lay the blame on Benson years on my parents . But I would have still liked to have those years back .

You had to apply to go to Benson so there was some prestige in being accepted . But that did not last long . I am guessing that in 1960 about 500 of us entered as Freshmen . At least half of the students at Benson were black . This was my first experience with people of color and the first thing I noticed is that they weren't really black I also noticed they were as complex and diverse as those of us who had been inappropriately call white kids .

Classes were hard . Writting ( english ) , Social studies , Math , Science ( we could choose which discipline ) , PE / Health , And Shop ( Shop was Two periods ) . English , Social Studies , and Science were fairly good to me ..PE was indifferent , and Math and Shop were where I failed the most spectacularly . MY Math teachers insisted I not only get the math Problems right , but tht I showed them how I got the problems right ...I insisted that the only thing important was the right answer ...in a struggle for class domination between my Teachers and myself ..the Teachers seemed to have the upper hand . Shop was ...Horrid . During the two years I was at Benson I was enrolled i 6 different Shop classes ; They were : Machine Shop , Auto Shop , Electrical Shop , Areonautics Shop , Sheet Metal and Welding . Each shop class was basically the same , you given an assignment to complete by the end of the Term . Each assignment was a series of tasks bringing you to the competed task .

 

  For instance in Machine shop we were to turn a Piece of steel that was 2 inchs in diameter and 8 inchs long into an impressive work of art . IN order to do that we first needed to build our own tool to make the changes in the Metal Cylinder ...To demonstrate how easy this was our instructor would grab a piece of tool steel , put his goggles over his eyes approach a Grinder and then in just a few minutes would grind the tip of the steel into an impressive looking point . He would then take the tools steel with its point , place it in a vise and with the Cylinder attached to a Lathe then in a matter of a few more moments turn the steel rod into a beautiful shinny expertly crafted something . All this was demonstrated to us in a matter of a few minutes. I was impressed with my Instructors skill and I also found myself wondering OK ? what will we do for the rest of the term ?

Before we began we went to the Student Supply Depot where we were given: 1: An Apron 2: Gloves 3: Goggles 4: Four little bars of tool steel 5: One large Steel Cylinder 6: a Padlock .

We were given A locker and were told that if we needed to replace any of the items we were given we could but there was a cost involved .

At first I thought the 4 bars of tool steel were really generous ....but

Looking back

 

Galatians 3:28

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

When we first moved to Nashville I was surprise to see how segrated the churches were. I have heard it said that Sunday is the most segregated day in the South. From my own evidence I would have to agree with this.

I don't understand why. I have also heard the segregation is mutual . Likewise I have no evidence to dissagree with that.

If you were born after 1970 I suspect it is very difficult for you to fully understand just how painful , angry and divisive the fight for intergration and racial equality was. My parents were segregationists , I would like to believe that neither my father or mother would have never participated or support racial violence , but they were certianly unwilling to do anything to change it.

My mother was from Oklahoma and was culturally disposed towards racism , my father seemed indifferent, but I also overheard him tell many jokes at the " expense " of black people.

Both of my parents urged me to proceed with caution when I became involved in the Civil Rights movement , and for reasons I cannot truly remember our home never had a black visitor.

I remember vividly the first time I really came face to face with the ugly reality of Segragation.

Living in Oregon we were largly divorced from the struggles in the North and the South. There were a few black people living in Oregon , but not in our neighborhoods.

The Summer between my eighth grade graduation and my first year in High School I spent the summer in Oklahoma ...this was 1960. I traveled to Oklahoma alone on a Greyhound Bus. When the Bus stopped in Oklahoma City near the end of my trip I needed to use the Bathroom in the Train station. There were three bathrooms there , they were marked : White women , White men , and Colored. I didn't get it I choose colored , when I walked out a man in uniform stopped me and asked me why I did that , I joked I was Pink . He wasn't amused , he thumped on a Bible He was carrying and said " well you must not be a Christian then ".

Prior to that time I had not thought much about Christians and " race " . I had as a youngster assumed that the Church was the moral guardian of society and having heard very little from the Pulpit on this issue I guess I just assumed all was well ....Likewise I assumed that if there was a problem and some of Americas Citizens were being mistreated because of their skin color that the Goverment that represented us would do something about it. I had no reason to believe that these two institutions , the Church and the State instead of leading America out of this growing cancer of segration and inequality would actually participate and contribute to the problem.

That summer in Oklahoma was like a graduation present from my parents for completing Grade School. I suspect that in today's world you would never send your 13 year old child , boy or girl on a three Bus trip across country.

But 1959 was a simpler time ...and a harder time as well. I remember constantly looking out the windows , taking in as much of the scenery as I could ...I enjoyed the different stops , I especially remembered Salt Lake city and seeing the Mormon Temple there ...and wondering where the lake was.

From Oklahoma City to Muldrow was a few hours drive it was night and there was a fierce storm lighting our way , on one occasion I know I saw a lightning bolt hit so close to the bus that the pavement was bone dry when the bus raced over it.

Late that night my Uncle peeked into the bus and shouted my name , and I left the bus an onto a summers adventure in the land of my Mothers birth.

My uncles name was Mel , he was the town barber in Muldrow , he smelled of hair tonic and shaving cream, had a twinkle in his eye , and an easy way with conversation. His wife was my mothers Sisters , Aunt Alice , Aunt Alice is still alive , the last of four children born in the hard times of hard scrabble , storm tossed , Oklahoma. She looks alot like my mother , younger , and less weary , My mother had two boys , Alice and Mel had no children.

Muldrow Oklahoma is a small town , a very small town , my mother had one Brother Otis who had nine children and one brother James who had two children , then two more . Several of Otis Children were close to my age and we spent that summer adjusting to being teenagers.

There are a few memories from that summer , driving a tractor , poisonus snakes , foul tasting well water , catfishing at night watching a tornado head our way. That summer I found how how blessed I was living in Oregon.

Mel and Alice were pretty comfortable , with no children and a corner on the Barber shop trade , they lived well within their means. Otis was a different story , likable , but indifferent to work , Otis was an inconsistent provider. The children lived a hard life , those things I took for granted like candy bars , and bottled cokes were rare treats for his kids. There was occasional Ice Cream but it was handmade , and the hand making was difficult work.

And there was more ...there was a poverty of education , I must have sounded like an Ivy league professor to those nieces and nephews and they didn't care much for professors ...they were disdainful and untrusting of education , preferring the " street " smarts of a city that had few streets.

And by their standards I must have been quite a nerd , struggling with hay bales , driving the tractor into the pond, and putting a hole in a 50 gallon oil drum while target practicing for a planned squirrel hunt.

The Squirrel hunt turned out to be a turning point , they had armed me with a 22 while they carried shotguns, they knew I would be at a disadvantage with the single shot rifle, yet when it was over I had two squirrels to my credit and the three cousins that adventured out with me had none.

I have to thank my dad for that ...he was a very good hunter and taught my brother and I how to shoot and shoot well . We trained on a single shot 22 and learned to make one shot the right shot.

As the demand for racial equality began to swell and build I spent my High School years almost oblivious to the first tremors of change. For two years I went to Benson High School in Portland Oregon. My parents wanted me to go to this school because if its Advanced Science Programs , Science was an Area I excelled in , I didn't excell in Shop class. ( Seventh and Eigth Graders in the 50's went to either Shop class ( boys ) or Home Economics ( girls ) . What my parents hadn't planned was that Benson was one all day Shop class. In the two years I went to Benson I Failed Welding, Aeronautics, Automotive, Machine Shop, Sheet Metal and Foundery classes , while getting a smatering of A's in Biology and Physics .

Benson was a " segragated " school with just about equal number of blacks and whites. I have no memory of any racial incidents while at Benson. It was at this time that I developed a reputation for getting in fights , I was constantly brawling with kids much bigger than me , Usually kids who because of their size and physicality liked to push other kids around ...I set a record at Benson I believed I had only lost about 17 of the 18 tiffs I was in ...It took me two years to really embrace passive resistance. Two years several broken noses , a couple of cut lips and an unfortunate nickname of Rocky ( not for the fighter but for the racoon ).

 

The Universe expands

Science fairs , Dancing lessons , guitar lessons , fishing trips to the Oregon Coast ..The Seventh and eighth grades went by in a blur ...for two years all we would hear about in Grade school was the promise of High School and more homework . We were getting older , our bodies were changing , our parents were giving us more and more responsibilities . As I try to recall memories from my last two years in Grade School they seem dimmer than the earlier years . I suspect because there were simply so many distractions .

In 1959 we were on the verge of a new decade Average Cost of new house $12,400.00 Average Yearly Wages $5,010.00 Cost of a gallon of Gas 25 cents Average Cost of a new car $2,200.00 Movie Ticket $1.00 Loaf of Bread 20 cents Kodak Movie camera $67.50 Ladies Stockings $1.00

There were seeds being planted world wide that would have lasting impact on our lives but for the most part we were unaware of them : Fidel Castro comes to power in Cuba after Revolution with the first communist state in the west. Alaska becomes a State , in the Congo the first person dies from a new disease we will come to know as AIDS , and the micro Chip was invented in the USA by Jack Kilby .

At school Transistor radios were the rage , and on the playground at recess and noon the first feint stirrings of rock and roll could be discerned . The chartered plane transporting musicians Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper goes down in an Iowa snowstorm, killing all four occupants on board. The tragedy is later termed "The Day the Music Died," popularized in Don McLean's song, "American Pie."

In 1960 John F Kennedy announced He was going to seek the office of President of the USA and for some reason , perhaps His name Had Ken in to I decided to volunteer stuffing envelopes at His campaign headquarters in Portland Oregon. I remember initially my parents were not pleased mostly because Kennedy as a Catholic and they were convinced that the Catholic Church was behind His presidential bid . But in time they were less disturbed by my volunteering.

My boundaries were stretching ..from the confines of my yard ...Past the block , beyond the neighborhood and now to downtown Portland and the USA political Scene . More and more people apart from my Parents were beginning to form an impression on me . Several of my Teachers most notable Paul Jandreau the Science teacher and my Seventh grade teacher as well . Mr Pollard the Local Printer who let me watch Him set type , and listen to His Irish records . _______ a classmate who encouraged me to make my first phone call to a Girl.

Mr Kalisee , my Sunday School teacher , and there were the books lots of books . I was reading a lot in those days .Les miserables  by  Victor Hugo , Battle Cry by Leon M. Uris ,Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand ,Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak , Exodus by Leon Uris , Moby Dick Herman Melville , I was also enjoying Comedy narration like the Egg and I , and a book called Until Fish Do Us Part .

Like a planet settling into orbit I was attracting bits of flotsam into my boundaries . I was definitely sorting all this out ...Atlas Shrugged made the biggest impact on me ..and for the most part probably made a lot of people around me kind of miserable . Imagine the tension between the Humanity of Les Misreables and The virtue of selfishness espoused in Atlas Shrugged ..fortunately in time Victor Hugo held serve ...

As I think back ..I am confirming just how much each and every one of us are affected by the people and world around us ...and the need for boundaries that can put all of our experiences into perspective . Its not eh experiences that form us ..experiences happen , but it is the firm boundaries of faith , and family and Teachers who care that fuse those experiences into our world view ....

Slidding and Gliding Thank you Norm And Helen

As we grew older my parents continued to encourage Bob and I to develop intersts in the arts and Sciences . Dad would help Bob and i on our Science fair projects . The Science fair was a yearly event which began by having exhibits at the local Grade Schools and from there selected exhibits would be asked to be presented at the Oregon Museum of Science and industry . Both Bob and i had exhibits make this journey to OMSI .

My most memorable exhibit was a map of Oregon complete with mountain ranges and painted lakes and rivers . placed in the appropriate areas of the Map were rock and mineral samples . Dad was instantiate that i do most of the work . He assisted me in building the case that presented the exhibit. For years that Map was in our house . It was about 3 feet square , with wood putty mountains and actual samples of the rocks and minerals . A white frame enclosed the map and a glass cover finished it off .

My Parents also encouraged us to take Music lessons. Perhaps a response from a particularly bad experience I had with the Music teacher at the Grade School . Mr Brown was his name a quick tempered , mean spirited megalomaniac , who frankly had no business teaching children . Prior to being in his class I had used to enjoy singing in school . Singing was part of the curriculum in the early grades and we had quite a repertoire of Steven foster and pioneer Songs we used to sing in class . That was until Mr Brown felt it necessary to call me out in front of the Choir I had volunteered to be a part of and tell me and everyone listening I had no business being in Choir because my Voice was crappy . Or words to that affect .

Dad and mom were furious . while they definitely knew we had limitations they also felt that we should be encouraged rather than discouraged .

Bob and I started taking music Lessons in downtown Portland. Bob Took Accordion lessons and I took Spanish Guitar lessons from a man named Elliot Sweetland . Both required the purchase of an instrument and of course money for lessons , which my parents freely offered , though a hardship for them .

Both Bob and I took the local bus to downtown for our lessons . I don't know the exact address but the Studio was in a basement near the pioneer Courthouse. I enjoyed the guitar . And ended up laying pretty well . The big problem for me was the Chords . The Guitar had not made a breakout as a solo instrument yet , and it was used principally as a support instrument . I had very small hands and the F Chord in particular was very difficult for me . I did learn to read music , fascinated that those little marks on the music page could then be applied to the guitar strings and frets . I enjoyed playing the melody and for a long time I would spend my money on Music books instead of comic books ...Unfortunately over the years I lost interest in the guitar , too many competing interests I guess . But I wish I would have continued .

My parents then made a very important decision for me . One that would have a lasting impact . Truly one of those turning points in a life . I was enrolled in the Norman Stoll School of Dance .

Norman was trained by Author Murray . After the war Norm began teaching ballroom dancing at the Palais Royale Ballroom on West Burnside Street. While there Norm met another teacher and professional dancer, Helen Mills. He went on to marry Helen in 1949 and in 1952 welcomed their son, Wayne. In 1950 Norm and Helen founded the Norm Stoll School of Dance and Norm Stoll Enterprises. Through their dance studio, the two travelled all over Oregon teaching dance in many places-Milwaukie Jr. High and Gardiner Jr. High in Oregon City; Lake Oswego Country Club; Capitol Hill Community Center; The Dalles; Bend; and Elk Lodges, to name a few.

I was enrolled in the Capitol Hill Community Center . One of those things I have no idea how it happened I an  Sure I wasn't thrilled at first . Not only did it require being in the close proximity of girls , but it meant taking a bath and dressing up. This ordeal was made a little easier by meeting back up with my friend Lee whose parents had also decided to enroll him . I found put much latter than another friend , who you will meet later was also enrolled and went on to be a teacher with the Norm Stoll school .

The community center had a large dance floor and a stage area . when we entered the girls would usually be in one area and the boys in another. We dressed very formal for these lessons boys in slacks, dress shirts and ties occasionally a sport coat . Girls in party dresses . When the lessons began Norm and His wife Helen would demonstrate the dance we were about to learn . Music would begin and they would glide effortlessly around the floor the guys would exchange looks with each other that quite frankly showed more fear than batting against Wayne Twitchel or Frank Stricker . But before we could go into a full panic the boys formed one circle and the girls another . Music would play and we would revolved in opposite directions , the music would stop and we would be facing our dance partner . We did this frequently during the night.

We were taught the waltz , foxtrot ( two step ) calypso , and swing . each dance requiring us to hold on to each other and move in unison as a perfect graceful couple . Lee was very good at this , I would try as best I could to keep in eye contact with him ...He made me a better dancer .

It was also apparent that all of us were trying to learn .that each of us had stepped out into the unknown. even in those days of intense peer pressure it seemed as if all in that room encouraged one another and we were for the most part all equally intimidated and rewarded .

At the end of the evening the we would form a line the boys would then present their last dance partner to Norm and Helen . We would say Mr and Mrs Stoll I would like to present to you --and we would introduce our dance partner .

I never really realized until much later in my life just how important and how life changing these classes were ... Helen and Norm lived their lives with passion they gave more than they got out of life and they left a profound legacy of young adults encouraged and emboldened to meet what ever life put in our paths . I wish I would have understood in time to thank them for what they sewed into me ...Helen died in April 14, 2008, at age 83. Norm died Nov 30th 2011 , no doubt they are dancing in Heaven Closely holding each other Gliding gently on Heavens floor .

Quickly gone ..racing forward

" it goes so quickly "  Emily ( Our town )  

No matter how hard we try this planet keeps on spinning . There must be something about whirling in orbit that ages us .

 By the time I was in the Seventh grade I was already looking toward High School . Our teachers were constantly reminding us how much more difficult High School would be . By the time we reached seventh grade we were the " Big " kids in the school .

 I entered the Seventh grade in the Fall of 1959 . There was a lot going on in that year .

Science had gotton popular : Two major events seemed to fuel it one was the Space Program ,April 9, 1959  NASA  announced the names of seven men who will become the first US astronauts. They are Alan Shepard, Jr., Virgil (Gus) Grissom, John Glenn, Jr., Malcolm Scott Carpenter, Walter (Wally) Schirra, Jr., Leroy Gordon Cooper, Jr., and Donald (Deke) Slayton.

 The other was the Results of the International Geophysical year which had begun in 1957 and ended in 1958 . BY the time we had returned to School in the Fall of 1959 the planet was beging to give up some secrets and was on the brink of looking a whole lot smaller as well .

 During the 50's there was a change in some of the underlying theories of earth Sciences . By 1959 textbooks on the formation of the earth were being changed dramatically. It had seemed almost over night we had gone from believing the mountains of the earth were formed by the cooling of the earths crust , a theory sometimes referred to as the shriveled apple theory . to the idea that the there were these huge plates of earths crust floating on the Molten mantle of the earth . And as they jostled for position they would occasionally slam into each other and the result was mountain building , earthquakes and volcano's .

 In 1957 the Soviet Union had surprised the USA by putting a man made satellite in orbit . Sputnik was a small device . but this 23 inch sphere was about to change the world as well . As a Seventh grader I was not able to fully grasp the implications of the Russians putting a satellite in Space befre we had a chance to do it , and to be honest not sure i understand as an adult as well .

The Barbie doll was introduced in 1959 . Bonanza was first aired , and as 1959 rotated into 1960 John F Kennedy announced his Candidacy for the president of the USA .

Events from years before were forming the events of my last years in Grade school and these in turn were rushing toward a political murder and a man on the moon .

and just as the great plates of the earth were being thrust together and pulled apart by forces we could barely understand ..The boys and the girls of the seventh grade were racing toward ...maturity.

It wasn't a sudden thing , nor was it the same thing for everyone ..but for many of us boys girls started to look a little different in the seventh and eight grades . The smiles were brighter , the skirts were tighter , and curves were curvier . Boys went to shop class in the Seventh and eight grade . Girls went to Home Economics .

At Multnomah Grade school the Shop class was next door to the Home economics class ...through the smell of sawdust and burned plastic came the sweet smell of baked bread and cupcakes next door .

There was a huge gulf between the opportunities for girls and the opportunities for boys in those years . There were a few occupations that were " suitable " for girls nursing and teaching were foremost . For boys it was a wide open field . Boys had more opportunity in the work place and in the education system . It was a mans world .

But we weren't men yet ..we were working it out , In play grounds and locker rooms we joked , we dispensed bad information , we told tall tales , and somehow in spite of our collective ignorance we found ourselves ..thinking more and more about girls .

IN time each of us would find our particular niche of girl magnetism. For some it came as sports , for some it came as snappy dressing . For a great number of us it didn't come at all , at least not yet .

I felt awkward around girls , a perfectly normal conversation about rocket fuel would turn to mush when confronted with a ______ or a _______ . A perfectly executed Yo Yo spin would dangle hopelessly when Pricilla went by . A normal 1/2 minute conversation on the phone would turn into an oral dissertation of War and Peace if I tried to call a girl .  I aslo found out that most girls were not intersted in a dissertation about War and Peace , nor the Nuances of rocket fuel .  

Fortunately there was more to These late years than girls , I found refuge in the science class , and had already successfully blown up several rockets and set the Science Laboratory on fire by an ill advised use of turpentine on a smoldering fire .

The boy Genius who in the 5th grade had been invited into the select ranks of the special Science Club for seventh and eight graders was by the 7th grade a full blown nerd. And even as a Nerd I was failing ...then a singular event , something i never saw coming and when first thrust into I resisted with all the wiles in my wiley youth , would despite my protestations change all this in just a few months ....

Little League Lessons

Summer was Little league season . In our area we had two groups for kids my age , the majors and the minors . I Played on a minor league team . I was not all that bad . ( pats self on back ) . I was very good at fielding , fast . Hitting was my downside , but I cold bunt and hit through the infield so usually I batted lead off .

I tried all the positions except First base , but most frequently was put in as either shortstop or Catcher .

My dad coached the team for two years . We won our division each year , and I was selected to be on the Minor league all star team twice .

Dad was a great coach for little league , he had this unusual idea that if you came to practice you should be able to play . He was even heretic enough to believe that what was important in the game was learning to play it , enjoy playing , and having fun. Radical.

I really can't recall how many games we played in a week I think we played twice a week . and some of the games were double headers . IN the photo attached to this post my father is the one standing back Left , I am the good looking guy holding the bat on the right hand side and my Brother bob is sitting beside me .

We practiced a lot . Dad was real insistant on teaching us the fundamentals of fielding . I can't Remember the name of the other coach I belive His name was Mr Feller and His son was the other one holding a bat .

As I mentioned Dad would make sure that everyone of the team got a chance to play during a game regardless of the score . Often this would create some heated remarks from the parents in the stands , occasionally my mother would get into it with another parent ..Baseball was a family game .

My friend Lee played in the majors , Often we would se each other at the baseball games . and once a year we got to play at Alpenrose which was the big league venue for Baseball in the West hills .

 

Most of the team members names are gone in my memory . My Brother and I , Jim Miller , Earnie Bartnick  ( deceased ) ,  I will try to recall the others as well .

Our team was Verdermun Oil . Our colors were Dirty grey and Dirty black .

Leaving things for others to find

Our Adventures on the Coast were weekend adventures ...Friday we would leave , sometimes after a little league game. And we would return Sunday afternoon usually before dark.

The house was always left clean and spotless as if we had not even been around . If we used wood for the stove we replaced it on the wood stack . There was always wood to split and stack . Dishes washed and put away , beds made .

We would pile into the car and Head home . Bob and I would recount the curves on Highway 53 , surprised I guess their turned out to be the same number . We would turn right on the Sunset Highway and head east back toward Portland . about 30 miles up the road into the Coastal mountain range there was a rest stop . Not much more than a very wide place on the road . there was a natural spring that came out of the hills there and there was a stone enclosure for a water spigot . The water here was cool and sweet . and we soul stop for a drink and rest . MY dad would take a short nap in the car as we played on the grass and explored the creek that ran by the fountain .

Several years ago I was sharing part of this " History " with Lori , it was a rainy day and we had headed over to the Coast for a small vacation . I stopped at this same location . the Faucet was still there ..I wandered a few feet to catch a glimpse of the stream we played in . but the hillside was wet and slick and the under brush was not very inviting . I retreated to the car and we head on our way ..within a few minutes we could tell something was very wrong . The car began to reek ..the smell was horrible . Someone had let there pet run around and the pet had relieved itself near the fountain , and I Had tracked the evidence of this into the car . Realizing the enormity of the problem I pulled over at the first wide spot and immediately began to wipe my feet on any grass ,bush or limbs i could find to remove the offending material .

 Inside Lori worked feverishly with what ever she could find to remove the same material from the Gas and brake Peddle , and from the floor mat . We put what we could not leave behind in a Garbage bag , probably double bagged it . and headed back out . But it was not enough , the strong stench still remained ....and Lori started peeling some oranges we had brought with us for the trip and placing them in front of the hot air vent , then I would grind them up with my foot on the floor ...It eventually got better ..but for years later on the dark and rainy nights if you held your nose just right .....

The next major landmark on our Journey home was the Sunset Tunnel . The Sunset Tunnel was built in 1941 it was a WPA project the Tunnel is 800 feet long. Heading east once out of the Tunnel you begin a decent in to the Willamette Valley . Dad would usually honk his horn as we traveled through the tunnel if He didn't do it we would remind him ,

We would try to get home before dark. This made the unpacking part much easier . each of us had our assigned Tasks . Mine was usually disappearing quietly , and heading across the street to see if Rex were out . Rex made this weekend trip with us a few times , but after the Wounding him with the knife episode , the breaking of his bike during the great raid event , and the burning down the woods catastrophe , Rex's Mother seemed to have plans for him when ever we asked if He could join us .

I always appreciated it when Rex was in the Yard ... If he was not to be seen I would knock on His door , but often no one would come to the door . I found it odd that with as little money as they had that they would leave with the TV blaring and all the lights on ...but People do as people do .

If Rex was available I would spend a little time with him and tell him about all the fish I caught usually adding a little length , and weight to them as well as number ..I did this not to brag but to encourage his Pleading with His mother to let Him join us the next time out .

Rex was usually unimpressed about my fishing adventures ..even at times going so far as to suggest I was gently stretching the truth , however He said it differently.

I had learned when to return to our home just in time to see my dad and brother dragging the tent off the back of trailer and depositing it into the garage . MY " what can I do to help " was warmly greeted and usually well rewarded.

I did take responsibility for unpacking my own gear . Putting my Fishing poles where mom could trip over them and my tackle box in the middle of the floor where i could easily find it the next time out . Leaving the tackle box indoors seemed to have a negative impact on the almost live bait i carried in it . At times it was kind of comical to watch my mother race around the house sniffing both Bob and I trying to figure out what we may have stepped in . As I gained maturity I learned to take the eggs and crawfish tails and clam necks out of the tackle box and store them in the refrigerator . Usually at the back in the corner behind several Jars of half eaten pickles . Sometimes these moldering baits would slip their hiding spots and present themselves to my Mother as she was preparing some meal or another , whenever this happened it did not go well with me or the bait . I don't think my Mother ever understood that some fish preferred old bait as some people preferred old cheese . She also seemed to be somewhat territorial about the refrigerator..when it came to what went into it . My mother was wonderful , but she was not perfect .

If we got home early enough I would watch Omnibus . Then settle in for the wonderful world of Disney ...

The weekend would end with Mom tripping over my fishing poles and dad Demanding I take the tackle box into my room or the Garage . Depending on how stuffed up I was ...I would make a decision and then it was lights out ....the weekdays were coming .

A Mystry to Solve

The Cabin on Buchanon Creek came with its own caretaker . Although it seems ot me He was more of a " squatter " than a Caretaker . We called him shorty . I have no idea what his name was . Nor do I know much of his history. I wish I did .

If Shorty lived in Nashville , or Portland he would be one of those people you would find living under a bridge . As it was He lived in a small shack that could not have been more than 10 x 10 in size . inside of this shack was a small wood burning stove , the only source of heat and were He cooked the meals he needed to cook. The walls were covered with various items , all apparently useful to him and in the back of the space a platform with blankets for his sleeping needs .

As his nickname implied He was short , Just over 5 feet . I can't remember if he had a beard ..if he did it was invisible because of the dirt and grime on his face.

Shorty bathed once a week . He would ride his bike to a friends house near Saddle mountain . there He would take advantage of the friends Shower and Suana . then return back to his shack .

I do not recall ever seeing shorty smoking or drinking . Most of the food he ate he either grew or caught . When we started using the Farm house i know we often brought him meals and left him with whatever we had left over as we parted .

I can't recall Shorty ever doing anything for money . I suspect He barterd , traded , and foraged for his sustenance. In today's terms he was definitely off the grid .

The farm had some Livestock , Goats , Geese and Chickens and I am sure they needed some one to feed them and tend them . The Chickens layed eggs and shorty was able to eat them . When ever we came down on the weekends He had some for us . Maybe money went from my fathers hands to his I don't know .

Shorty didn't talk much when He did it was with a heavy accent . I believe He was Swedish. He smelled badly and His cabin reeked . Mom did not allow him in the cabin . and He had questionable decision making skills . ON one occasion we pulled into the house late at night as we entered the house we were greated with the worst smell you could imagine ...it was so bad we all got back in the car while my father went to investigate . finally after a heated conversation with Shorty ..Dad got in the car , slammed the door and we returned to Portland . Turned out that Shorty had trapped some salmon in the creek , but they were too old and decayed to eat so he through them away under the farm house .

When we returned the next week the smell was all but gone . Im not sure what Dad said to him not what threats he threatened him with , but it seemed to work. There was only one more similar instance and that was when Shorty had managed to trap a skunk under the house . although I do remember my dad saying the skunk did improve Shorty's aroma .

The interesting thing is all this did not seem to deter my brother and I striking up a friendship with Shorty. He let us Help him feed the animals , chop wood , and allowed us to do some of the other chores he did around the house . whenever we arrived we would usually ask him about the fishing conditions , which fish were in the creek , and if any wildlife was around . Deer were always a given . but we had the occasional Elk and black bear that wandered into the property . espicially when the apple trees were dropping their fruit .

Once we were established at the Farm House I bought some Forest service maps of the Area . and discovered that there was what appeared to be a lake not too far from the cabin . The lake was unnamed on the map . Shorty told us the lake was named Soapstone lake , and not too many people knew about it ...there was an an abandonded homestead near it ..and a larger orchard nearby as well . Twice Shorty took us to the lake . It wasn't quite what I expected to find , and yet I don't know what I expected . The lake was small ..it had the appearance of a lake formed by a beaver dam . As it turns out it is a spring fed lake and yes there were beavers there . The area around the lake had several dead trees , in various stages of decay .

Not sure when ..a few years after we started using the Cabin Shorty was killed . He was riding his bicycle back from His weekly soak . The rain and wind must have blinded him as he road his Bike into the front of an oncoming car .

I find it interesting how God sews people into our lives ...sometimes we know immeadiatly  , what He is doing for us , and other times the fruit takes longer to ripen . Its been over 50 Years since Shorty and my path crossed ..but I have a feeling  that this story is not done yet ....

Bucannon Creek University

Just past Saddle Mountain there is a Junction . Highway 53 branches off of the sunset Highway. also known as the Necanicum Highway , 53 heads southwest for about 18 miles before it brings you out at Highway 101 near Mohler and Wheeler Oregon .

The Farm house we spent several years in on the weekends was Seven and a Half miles from the Junction. For Distraction Bob and I would count the turns on this Highway from the place where we entered the road to the driveway of the home . in Seven and half miles there were 75 turns . One turn in the rod every tenth of a mile . MY dad used to quip the road was laid out by a drunken cowboy chasing a Horse that had eaten Loco weed . The Road divides two great Forests , the Tillamook State forest and the Clatsop State Forest .

The Farm was dissected by Highway 53 the farm house and an old Orchard was on the left hand side of the highway , and on the right was an old Barn . A small creek named Buchanon Creek was just past the barn .

The house had electricity , and even had indoor plumbing . IT was not completely finished . the downstairs had a mud room , Bathroom , Living area and large Common Kitchen . The stove was a wood burner and I believe there was a wood burning stove in the Living room as well . Upstairs were four Bedrooms .

In front of the house was the remains of a very old Apple Orchard . The house also came with its own caretaker . An elderly Man we called Shorty lived on the property in a very small shack next top the main house . He watched over the property and cared for the Numerous , Goats , Geese , and chickens that also lived there .

Shorty appeared to be quite old , was usually very dirty and unkempt . He would ride His bike to a Friends house near Saddle Mountain once a week for a Sauna and shower . A journey of about 18 miles round trip .

On several occasions this man became our personal Guide , and fishing expert . Although for Him he was more inclined to illegally net the fish rather than catch them on hook and line.

The major attraction for me was the Creek that ran by on the opposite side of the road . Like the Necanicum river we were very close to a large fishing hole . where the fishing hole on the Necanicum was dark and mysterious , this hole revealed everything . There was no boundary of Basalt , both sides of the creek could be reached if you didn't mind getting a little wet . And on the side of the Waterhole facing the House there was a bank overlooking and peering into the deep . On this bank at one time two very large Sitka Spruce trees made their home . One had fallen and had been salvaged in part leaving a very wide 7-8 ft Stump to sit on and watch the river . across the hole the top half of the Tree still lay in the water .

Here also High water had eroded the soil under the trees roots , carving out small cave like place under the tree . When the creek was at normal flow this was a perfect place to sit and cast and stay dry when the rains came .

From the vantage of the bank and the stump when the water was not filled with sediments from Heavy rain and runoff you could look into the water . And it was a Dazzling site ..Huge schools of fish rested here ...The King Salmon the Coho , steelhead , and schools of Cutthroat trout . I have never seen so many fish in one place as I would see in this singular wide spot in the river .

At times the water was so clear you could make out the individual spots on the fish , you could see which of the salmon were beginning to molder . and directly under the stump waves of minnows were constantly on the move .

Upstream the creek widened into a long and shallow expanse ..and for some reason I cannot remember I rarely went upstream from my vantage point . Downstream from the hole the water emptied out into a narrow flute ..here the water went quite fast forming a very large rapid . at the point where the water enter the rapids ..there was a fairly shallow gravel Bar , and it was here we could cross over to the other side . On the other side our fishing place was the remaining stalk of the fallen Sitka spruce . The width of the pool was about 40 feet . and even forty fee away from its stump the tree measured over five feet in Circumference .

This place , this deep hole was where I Began to catch fish .

The first catch was me

"I'm going out to fish," Simon Peter told them, and they said, "We'll go with you." So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. John 21:3

The big hole on the Necanicum river was mysterious , the Black rocks, the forest canopy and the Depth of the water all conspired to hide what ever lurked below the water . while I would see the fish coming and going into the " hole " I can never think of a time I saw any fish in it . The current seemed to cut through the middle of the wide spot . The water that lapped at my feet gently tugged my boots . Further out the water rushed by. A cast into the current would swing the lure in a wide arc in a matter of seconds . Past the current , hugging the stone walls opposite me was an eddy . nothing moved in this place . Iif the Fishing hole seemed dark and mysterious , this eddy was even more so . Once i hooked a beaver, at least I thought it was a beaver in the tail in this area almost breaking my pole before I wisely cut the line. Nothing moved in the Eddy . Scum formed on top of it . It was a dead spot in a living river .

I cannot recall ever taking a fish from this " big hole" . Stubbornly I kept returning ..and while I wasn't claiming any catch ..I was learning I was becoming more familiar with the river , and the fish that called it home. It has been said that a Fisherman will forget the fish He has caught but not the place He caught them . And then again I have heard some fisherman relate stories of fish that dwarfed the place they were caught in . But its fair to say my early fishing years helped to conserve the native runs .

It was here on the river bank , alone lulled into a meditative peace by the sound of the water scratching the rocks . The smell of fir and cedar . Dark rocks and brilliant mosses. That i began to think of One who made this all. And then just as quickly I would be pulling my spinner out of the water , snapping the tough line off in my teeth and , looking into my tackle box for another lure, one that would bring that first strike . I would wrestle with God in due time , now was the time to improve my cast .

I now know I was working the water the wrong way . MY " Instincts " told me the deeper the water the bigger the fish. I did not realize that in the Depths the fish were resting , there would be very few strikes in these deep pools , the tail of the rapids and the mouth of the overflow was were I should have been . that knowledge came later .

I would have definitely loved to land a large fish , to struggle with it and be victorious , to carry the fresh caught animal back to the cabin and there receive a hunters welcome . But I took what the river gave me , a surprise visit by an otter , a great blue heron watching me across the way. A shinny bit of agate .

we would occasionally have visitors , friends of my father or even Jim the Park warden come over for dinner , and I would sit an listen to their stories of fishing and hunting , soaking up as much as I possibly could ..I was beginning to realize that the more information I had about the fish the better fisherman I would be.

I started to read as much as I could about the fish here . And about fishing . first there were children's books about fish , but with those soon exhausted I sought the adult shelves in the Library .

Soon my favourite Author was a British Columbia Fly fisherman by the name of Roderick Haig Brown. The first book of His I read was called " a river never sleeps " . written in 1946 it is a Hymn to Fly fishing for Salmon , and Steelhead. For me fly fishing was not practical The streams on the Coast are framed by trees the only way a proper cast could be made with a fly pole would be to place yourself in the middle of the river , not always practical for a seven year old boy and definitely not something His mother would want to encourage . The books contained a lot of information on Habitat and behaviour that I would make use of After that came others till I had read His entire collection of works . I spent my money on a subscription to Field and stream . There was a Sporting good store on the way to my Hay fever doctor and I would spend as much time as I could there , looking over lures , listening to salesmen , eves dropping on stories told around the sales counter. When we were on the Coast I took every opportunity to investigate and pry into the secrets of all who carried a rod and reel and who would let me within earshot .

. It didn't take very long for me to decide I wanted to be a Professional fisherman and live out my life pipe in mouth fishing vest filled with home made flies , chasing Steelhead as they took out 200 yards of line in a mad dash for freedom .

The three major types of fish included the Steelhead . the Salmon and the Trout .

 

 

Steelhead were the most prized . Difficult to catch , strong from years of swimming in the Ocean , Steelhead would average about 12-20 lbs . The largest Steelhead caught in Oregon weighed 38 pounds . There are several varieties of Salmon but the two most prolific are the King Salmon and the Silver Salmon King Salmon average about 25-35 pounds and the record was 83 pounds . Silver Salmon also known as Coho salmon are smaller From 7 -15 pounds . IN addition to these fish the rivers are filled with Native Cutthroat trout and a distant cousin the Ocean bay cutthroat trout . These fish will be from 1 to 3 lbs in size .

During this period of " book knowledge " about my quest . the cabin on Highway 26 became no longer available to us ...I suspect it sold. Mom and Dad had been able to live in it rent free ...and we were now Oregon Coast homeless ... My fathers friend Jim Webb , a park ranger at Saddle Mountain , had located this place for us , and He came up with a new home for us to use .

This home was much bigger , a two story farmhouse , on Highway 53 7.5 miles from the Necanicum Junction . This place was the one I remember best , it was from here I Caught my first fish ...and began my fishing career in earnest .


Photo Credits :

Lower Necanicum River
Cutthroat Trout
Silver Salmon ( Coho )
Steelhead
King Salmon

The Deep begins to stir

Sometime after 3rd Grade and before 7th Grade I think I began to " experience " God . In Sunday school and school ground chats God was always an Abstraction . MY parents spoke very little about God , they agreed that He must exist , and I believe they felt there as an after life . But Theology , bible discussion was not a fixture or topic of discussion in our home.

Understanding God for me began in the clear creeks and narrow valleys of the Oregon Coastal range . It began as a murmur , the taking of shape of individual trees in the first light of morning kind of way. And when I first saw the ocean the confirmation of God was sealed forever in my heart .

To be fair here I am not talking about the Christian Faith I embrace today . These first shadows and revelations where of God the creator , God the sculpture and painter and God the giver and taker of life .

During this period we were granted access to two different cabins on the Coast , Memory has failed me I cannot choose which came first , I believe it was the Cabin on Highway 26.

This cabin sat on the right hand side of the road a bare mile from the Gas station and restaurant at the Necanium Junction where Highway 53 corkscrewed into the Sunset Highway.

Next door and sharing the driveway to the Cabin was an abandoned School house. Across the Highway a large lava rock narrow the road .

The cabin was small at most two bedrooms , a primitive kitchen , no electricity . Bathroom facilities were out back .

Several hundred yards from the road the Necanicum river pushed toward the Ocean ..several miles down tream it was navigabile by Drift boat ..but the stretch behind the house was barren of boats.

The upper end of the hole and the lower end were quite shallow at the rivers normal flow . But the other side of the river was unreachable . That side was buttressed by a wall of Basalt pushed out of the earth . Steep , slick , black and menacing . Opposite the Basalt wall there was a gently sloping river bank , noving from the water with golf ball sized pebbles to soft sand at the outer margins of the " normal " creek flow . At high water and flood time this margin would spill out in to the field where the path from the House disected. There was a wide spot in the river there , we called these places Holes ..or fishing holes . The frequent floods of water from the storms of Spring and fall had gouged the softer earth away from the Basalt . it was deep and dark there , forbidding . If you waited you could watch the Salmon break out of this restful area and struggle upstream several inches of Salmon visible out of the water ..forcing themselves further up the river . and below the hole the same spectacle could be seen the Deep waters offer sanctuary for the Migrating Salmon . Along the banks carcasses of fish could be easily seen , and several of the fish struggling towards the place of their own birth could be seen decaying and moldering.

Death and life were here ..laid out in perfect order . Even at such an early age I new that if the river were an Orchestra there must be a Conductor , if the rich greens and water stained blacks were a painting there must be a painter .

I did not know who this Master musician , painter sculptor was . But I knew He was . and I knew some how some way that He must be eternal .

There was Mystery and discovery here . the house side of the creek , was very accessible and it gave up its clues easily during the months . BUt the Opposite side , those rock walls were too much of a challenge to investigate , there was no purchase here no place to lay a foot. Life had found a way in places , mosses , and occasional clumps of grass , clinging to the rock.

Sitting at the bank of the river , watching the seasons go by ..I knew with confidence from a very early age that This was His world and we were visitors ... Seems almost egotistical to make this confirmation about myself when I was so young ..but my conviction is unalterable . I did not know who this God was , I had no name for Him save God ...and I did not know that He provided a way for me to be with Him when I pass , I did not know about His plan of Salvation nor the curse of Sin . I Just knew there was a God , and I felt that by knowing more about His Creation I would come to know more about Him .

* Photo note , this is not the Necanicum river , it is the Duck river in TN , the rocks here are Limestone ...When we are in Oregon I Hope to photograph the Place I am describing .