Offbeat Oregon History podcast

Brown’s grandfather kept a store back East in Illinois, and, being unable to liquidate it on congenial terms, packed all the inventory into wagons and hauled the whole thing across the country to Salem, where he set it up again. It was the first store in the history of the town of Salem. (For text and pictures, see https://www.loc.gov/item/wpalh002000/)

SOMETIME IN THE late spring of 1909, at the Oregon Railway and Navigation Company’s ticket booth in Portland, a 19-year-old man named Jim Morrell laid down his last $2 for a ticket on the Bailey Gatzert, the famous Columbia River sternwheeler. Destination: The Dalles. Morrell was from Colorado originally; just now he was at loose ends, drifting through Portland looking for work. He thought he might find it in The Dalles. Someone had told him about a great railroad war playing out near The Dalles, as railroad magnates E.H. Harriman of the Union Pacific and James J. Hill of the Great Northern scrambled to be the first to punch a railroad line through from the Columbia Gorge into Bend. Harriman’s road was called the Des Chutes (sic) Railroad; Hill was calling his the Oregon Trunk Railroad. Although still a young man, Morrell had some experience with gasoline-powered equipment, and thought this might be a good opportunity for him. So he had gambled his last two bucks (roughly $65 in modern money) to get to the scene, in hopes he could land a job. Morrell didn’t look like much when he arrived. On the journey his hat, a battered brown derby, had gotten split between brim and crown; his hair poked through the hat above the brim, making for a pretty comical appearance. Luckily, his hair was also brown, so it looked OK from far away. Upon his arrival, Morrell was met by a friend — probably the one who’d told him there was work to be had. Morrell’s friend staked him to a meal and a flophouse bunk, and the next day he wasted no time in seeking out J.D. Porter, who with his brother Johnson Porter ran the construction company that had the Northern Pacific (James J. Hill) contract. Porter’s first question after Morrell introduced himself was straight and to the point: “Do you know how to skin a bubble?” he asked. (The Dalles, Wasco County; 1900s, 1910s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/23-11.automo-bubbling-in-a-railroad-war-627.html)

Sidewheel steamer’s sinking was a major maritime disaster for Oregon; treasure hunters found the gold-laden wreck in 1993, touching off a big, undignified catfight with the state of California over salvage rights. (Offshore, Curry County; 1860s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1101b-shipwreck-of-brother-jonathan-ground-zero-in-fight-over-treasure.html)

The famous First World War aircraft were made of spruce, and one of the most important sources of the strategic wood for the Allies was the northern Oregon coast. (Toledo, Lincoln County; 1910s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1301c-great-war-planes-made-of-oregon-spruce.html)

It's probably just as well that no actual dinosaur bones were found here; the spiteful, unprofessional “cowboy paleontology” practiced by O.C. Marsh and E.D. Cope left Oregon's pioneer scientists profoundly unimpressed as it was. (John Day Fossil Beds, Wheeler and Grant county; 1870s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1601c.bone-wars.374.html)

In 1847, while a lad of 15, Mr. Brown crossed the great prairies and mountains of the Oregon Trail in a wagon train with his father, grandfather, and sundry other relatives. Brown’s grandfather kept a store back East in Illinois, and, being unable to liquidate it on congenial terms, packed all the inventory into wagons and hauled the whole thing across the country to Salem, where he set it up again. It was the first store in the history of the town of Salem. (For text and pictures, see https://www.loc.gov/item/wpalh002000/)

When it came out just after the war, the Beechcraft Bonanza was the hottest private plane in the sky — a sleek, speedy, fuel-efficient hot rod. But it was very easy for a novice to get in deadly trouble flying one. (Rural south Lake County; 1940s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1801a.earl-snell-plane-crash-bonanza-477.html)

Lost in Illinois, the affable collie crossed the Rocky Mountains on foot in the dead of winter, making friends along the way and causing a sensation on his arrival. (Silverton, Marion County; 1920s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1101a-bobbie-the-wonder-dog-put-silverton-on-map.html)

Robert Gordon Duncan was the first radio broadcaster ever to be sent to prison for cursing on the air. For the first six months of 1930, the entire city was riveted to his radio show, wondering who he'd slander next. (Portland, Multnomah County; 1930s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1301b-oregon-wildcat-was-early-shock-jock.html)

Regular motorists would swing by streetcar stops and offer to take passengers faster and in greater comfort for the same nickel. But the competition enraged the powerful plutocrats who owned the streetcar company. (Portland, Multnomah County; 1910s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1601b.jitneys-vs-streetcars.273.html)

In 1847, while a lad of 15, Mr. Brown crossed the great prairies and mountains of the Oregon Trail in a wagon train with his father, grandfather, and sundry other relatives. Brown’s grandfather kept a store back East in Illinois, and, being unable to liquidate it on congenial terms, packed all the inventory into wagons and hauled the whole thing across the country to Salem, where he set it up again. It was the first store in the history of the town of Salem. (For text and pictures, see https://www.loc.gov/item/wpalh002000/)

The rising waters of lakes and reservoirs have submerged many budding Oregon metropolises over the years, from tiny one-horse towns to an entire Native American homeland. (Klamath, Baker, Lane, Wasco County) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1406e.lost-cities-oregon-atlantis.html)

The case of John Ottoson (ne Otokichi) in 1832 illustrates what can happen: Blown off to sea by a gale, he and his comrades rode the Kuroshio Current to Washington State — much to the astonishment of Dr. John McLoughlin. (Oregon Coast; 1830s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1404d.japanese-junks-blown-across-to-oregon.html)

The alcoholic derelicts of on Burnside Street knew they could count on denatured alcohol for a cheap-but-nasty buzz; it might make them sick, but it wouldn't kill them. But then, one day, it did. (Portland, Multnomah County; 1930s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1404c.poison-dehorn-killed-28-hobos.html)

The darksomely sinister story of the old console game, with its attendant Men In Black and swarms of zombie children, is a fun story to look back on; but its odds of being true are up there with tales of Bigfoot. (Portland, Multnomah County; 1980s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1701e.polybius-legendary-sinister-videogame-428.html)