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 ....