Stories from the 2007 Festival!

Theme 1 Stories: How We Came Together

• The Best Place I Found - Robyn Hauck
• Came to Corvallis 3 1/2 Times! - M. Boyd Wilcox
• A Caring Place - Paul Hedeen
• Complete with Sidewalk! - Katherine Otten
• Corvallis Pioneers - Patti Cardwell
• Drifted West - Bob Bulchis
• Garden of Eden - E. June Burke
• Life Without the River? - Jody Harmon
• The Longest Road to Corvallis - John Lopez, Jr.
• A Memory of Judge Moses - Betty McCauley
• My Snowstorm - Mary Martin
• Our Family Wanted to Stay Together - DS
• Oregon Like a Dream - Jules Cooper
• Remembering Corvallis - Kenneth Kline "Ken" Swygard
• We Knew Where - Kevin Johnsrude

Theme 2 Stories: 150 Years Ago: Where Were You?

• Connecting the Generations - Linda Olsen

The Best Place I Found - Robyn Hauck

I have lived in Corvallis since I was five, when my father’s career brought us here from California. My favorite “lovey” blanket was left at a hotel on the way (how traumatic!), and I still remember seeing snow for the first time out our dining room window and insisting on sitting at that spot at the table forever afterward.

Those early memories, though, are less distinct and meaningful to me than my decision as an adult to be a part of this valley. This past summer, I graduated from OSU, and a dear friend and I traveled the whole United States. We wanted to see the country while we had the chance, to explore before life came crashing back down. I was also searching for a place to start my horse business. My friend and I saw rolling prairies, craggy mountains, mossy East Coast forests. We swam in freezing cold lakes, roasted in the desert, hiked the Rockies and the Badlands and Arches. We drank in the United States hungrily. Then we came back to Corvallis, to the warm, rainy forests of my childhood, and to my family, friends, and beloved community. This was the best place I found.

Came to Corvallis 3 1/2 Times! - M. Boyd Wilcox

First: In 1965, to attend OSU. Graduated, then on to Peace Corps. Graduate school in Portland. Marriage.

Second: Moved back to Corvallis in 1972. First-Alternative Co-op, instant, wonderful, organic community. Opened “Cheese Please,” wonderful, small shop, many great customers and life-long friendships. Homesteading opportunity beckoned, in Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Moved there in 1977; helped build solar house; lived in pre-Civil War chestnut log cabin shared with black snakes, black widow spiders, lightning storms, and persistent moldy smell of mouse and rats’ nests. Tried gardening but the beasties got most of the produce. Missed the climate, culture and friendships of Corvallis.

Third: Moved back fall of 1979. LBCC electronics school. Fixed radios at U.S. Forest Service. Wrote/played music. Raised two sons. Hired at old alma mater, OSU. Sixteen years in “the system.” Retired 2001. Came very close to buying 5 acres, 7 miles up the Yachats River. The old “back to the country dream” dies hard! Purchase deal didn’t go through.

Third and a half: Decided to stay. This “small town” ain’t even close any more; too big for me in many respects. The McMansions in northwest town; traffic like it’s all folks from L.A. still driving as if in NASCAR. But it’s the best place I’ve ever lived, so far. And Second Street is the best of the best. The only place where “small town” still resonates. That’s where I live, when not at home. Still chasing the dream of a “sophisticated village.” Open to suggestions.

A Caring Place - Paul Hedeen

I’m 84. I grew up in Durham, Oregon. My dad bought his acreage from Mr. Durham. We had two acres and the fun of living out in the country. My wife and kids and I mostly lived in Salem. Two of my daughters went to college here in the 70s, so I knew Corvallis a little bit. I came to Corvallis around Thanksgiving time of 2004. I was living in Waldport and got sick and was in the hospital in Newport. I was so sick they had to send me to Corvallis. They found out I had chronic leukemia; I don’t worry about it. I like it here. My daughter lived here, and she found Corvallis Caring Place for me.

Complete with Sidewalk! - Katherine Otten

My husband, toddler son and I moved to Corvallis from outer Southeast Portland on December 24, 2004. Christmas Eve dinner was frozen pizza from Albertsons. Christmas morning was spent wrestling the washer and dryer into the laundry nook from the hallway, where the movers had deposited them before tearing back up I-5 to be with their families. We never did get a tree. But as we unpacked in our new home, leaving the giant boxes in the living room for our son to explore, we forgot how tired we were and started to get excited about where we were living. Our street had a sidewalk! Didn’t have one in our old neighborhood. No freeway overpasses or used car lots within shouting distance. And who needed an evergreen inside when a glance to the horizon from the kitchen window yielded an entire hillside of them?

Corvallis Pioneers - Patti Cardwell

I come from two families of pioneers to Corvallis. On the paternal side, Taylor. Several places are named for those Taylors — Taylor Field, Taylor Water Treatment Plant. On the maternal side, I have Kings — Kings Boulevard, Kings Valley. Solomon King was a great-great-great-uncle. He was once sheriff. His father, Nahuum King, settled Kings Valley. I was born in Tacoma, Wash., but my mother, Evelyn Taylor, was born here in Corvallis. She was born on a dairy farm that once was on Ninth Street, about where Taylor Street Ovens is now. She also was in the first graduating class at Corvallis High School. I have lived here since 1966. Our whole family all moved back to Corvallis after living in Washington and California.

Drifted West - Bob Bulchis

I lived in New Jersey, and my kids had all drifted west, so I thought I'd come here too. I first saw Corvallis in 1937. I was a Husky at the time, and we had a forestry-related visit to the Arboretum. One of my Husky classmates became the chair of Forestry here, and in 1972 when they had a vacancy in the OSU Personnel Office, he got in touch with me and I got the job and moved here . . . (His wife reminded me of the time I had a date with her, and I was embarrassed because I had forgotten). Here we have this nice Willamette Valley, the coast to the west, the mountains to the east, an hour to all these attractive things. Now I’m 91 years old, my wife had Alzheimers and she’s died, and I live here at Corvallis Caring Place.

Garden of Eden - E. June Burke

In 1951, we made a trip to Oregon to visit my husband’s family. Within three weeks we were back. We fell in love with Oregon. We have lived in Portland, where Nick opened an appliance store, Teletronics, one of the first TV stores. We lived in Newport on his retirement from being an assistant superintendent of schools back East. Then we came to Corvallis because of your wonderful medical facilities. Your doctors gave my husband two more years of life.

The people in Corvallis are so caring about everything. They seem to get involved and do so many good things. When we arrived in Oregon we thought we were in the Garden of Eden. We would take a walk and pick plums from trees hanging over the walks. All the fruit and veggies for the taking. No humidity like back East, no heavy traffic. Only thing missing is an Olive Garden restaurant. When we came to Portland, we had to take the old Highway 30. What an experience.

Life Without the River? - Jody Harmon

I came to Corvallis in the ’70s for college but dropped out and into the mental health system. For the next 30 years I had run-ins with cops, was often hauled off to mental wards and lived homeless along the Willamette with a colony of feral cats who became my family. The police hauled me away for going into a flooded area to rescue a stranded river cat. I was arrested for yelling at a barge in defense of my river cats during the riverfront park project, an act I am proud to have committed.

I left the mental health system in 2001 and discovered I was sane enough. In the five years since, I’ve trapped 3,000 or so feral cats for spay/neuter. Now, I’ve been evicted, and must leave Corvallis to find affordable housing.

I’ve had a rough life. What pulled me through time and time again, was crouching along the Willamette’s edge in the dark under the shining stars. Staring into those stars made me feel my insignificance and yet, like a part of everything.

I will miss the mountain, sure, but the river, how will I live without the river?

The Longest Road to Corvallis - John Lopez, Jr.

I once lived in Pittsfield, Mass., in a hillside home that allowed me to look down on U.S. Highway 20, known locally as West Housatonic Street.

Years later, back in my native Southern California, I researched a transcontinental bicycle route and rediscovered Route 20. I learned that it went from Massachusetts to Oregon and was in fact the longest road in the United States. By 1941, Route 20 had its official terminus in Albany, Ore. Soon thereafter the highway was completed to Corvallis and the coast. As events would have it, I bicycle-toured Route 20 from west to east — Newport, Ore., to Boston, 3,356 miles away. On a warm June afternoon at mile 53, I passed through Corvallis. I found the city attractive — a quaint downtown on the Willamette River, pleasant residential neighborhoods and Oregon State University — all in a lovely valley. Years later I returned to stay.From my front porch on Southwest Fifth Street I can see Philomath Boulevard, Corvallis’ own little stretch of the nation’s longest road.

A Memory of Judge Moses - Betty McCauley

In researching the subject, I met Judge Victor Moses of the county court. This was before we had county commissioners. Judge Moses had a white goatee and resembled Colonel Sanders of fried chicken fame. We met at the Moses home across from the library (before the Plaza Apartments). His wife, Vina (who collected used clothing for the poor), was not home, but the judge invited me in. He told me that he had the first band in town, a brass band for the Methodist church (now the City Hall).

One subject led to another — how he had grown his beard to look more mature when he first ran for the judge position as a very young man; how he had decided to paint the then-gray county courthouse white. But the porous stones “drank” the paint, and he had to order more and more paint barged on the river from Oregon City. The taxpayers were angry because so much paint cost money, and the merchants were angry because they were shamed into painting their store fronts. Stories went on and on. When I left, Judge Moses followed me out the door, still talking, and locked himself out! The last I saw the judge was when he was going down a window into the basement.

My Snowstorm - Mary Martin

The first time I came to Corvallis was during a snowfall recorded by Guinness as the "greatest snowfall for a single snowstorm." EVER. It drifted south and, in seven days, dropped 189 inches of snow on Shasta. Years later (just before the second time I moved to Corvallis), as I made hot fudge milkshakes at Vicki's Big Wheel in Waldport on my regular Tuesday night waitressing stint, I realized that the two old timers sitting at the end of the counter drinking coffee and gumming hamburgers were talking about my snowstorm when they talked about the time they had 14 inches of snow on the beach. It was my snowstorm that knocked out the power in the Valley for over a week, causing my brother and sister to roast weenies and marshmallows in the fireplace with our father and our grandparents. My mother and I were safely tucked away in a second-floor room overlooking Harrison Street at Good Samaritan Hospital with the other new babies and their moms. Guinness World Records, Greatest Snowfall for a Snowstorm: The record for a single snowstorm is 480 cm (189 in), at Mount Shasta Ski Bowl, California, USA, between February 13 and 19, 1959.

Our Family Wanted to Stay Together - DS

We were living in San Diego, and our son wanted to attend Oregon State to study with Professor Doug Keszler, whom he really admired. We decided as a family that we wanted to stay together, and we all moved to Corvallis. I was a paralegal and, luckily, found a job in Salem. My son lived in an apartment on his own. I honestly believe God made parents for a reason, and it isn't for our own convenience. Some health issues came up, and we now realize that we really had to be close at hand for him and his medical needs, which were handled admirably by the staff at Corvallis Clinic and Good Sam. Our son is a delightful guy, a really good kid - adult now. He graduated, and has a wife, kids and job in another state, but we parents have stayed - I now work in Corvallis and plan to stay: it's home...

Oregon Like a Dream - Jules Cooper

We came in my mother’s Thunderbird — my boyfriend, myself, my little sister and my mother. My dad and brother had already arrived ahead of us. We were all leaving Los Angeles to get “out of the rat race.” I was 17 years old and it was March of 1977. California was all I had ever known. Our paperboy wore a gas mask of sorts as the smog had become so terrible one’s lungs would burn when active in it. Regulations on exhaust emissions were just coming into effect in California — we left when the smog was the worst. Oregon was like a dream. There were open, unbuilt spaces and green fields. There was room for animals and trees and forests. I went hiking in forests and swam in open streams much different than the artificial, chlorinated pools of childhood. I remember thinking for the first time, “I was an Earthling.” I belonged to the Earth, the soil, the trees, the water, the sun. Now, 30 years later, I dream of keeping Oregon wild, a refuge for when one tires of superficial living and decides to come home.

Remembering Corvallis - Kenneth Kline "Ken" Swygart, Overland Park, Kansas

Having been born in Corvallis, my first vivid memory is frantically looking for Santa while pressed against the window of our house up on Crest Drive. Everyone in my family saw Santa flying over the valley that night but me … I was 4.

I remember playing outside in the wind of the 1962 Columbus Day storm with Scott Lasswell until my mom ordered us inside — killjoy … a warm, sunny day in 1965 Pasadena watching the Beavs get creamed by Michigan in the second half of the Rose Bowl — Tommy Prothro had us punting on third down … my grandfather being buried in the Country Club cemetery … my very first eagle on the eighth hole at the club, chipping out of the sand trap and holing out.

I remember beating Memorial Junior High when Mike Riley and I combined for 44 points. Western View beat us both times in that ninth-grade year … the many state championships in high school where the real greatness was found in the incredible people on those teams, in our class, in the school, the community and the great support.

Then there was the fog and the flooding … my brother and I floating down 11th Street in a raft before there were ever any trees between Garfield and Linus Pauling. I played war behind the original dirt piles placed there, darting from one to another to gain the edge.

I remember climbing the steps of the Poly Sci building to see my dad while between classes … Gary Beck and I struggling in physiology together, wishing we were already at baseball practice … athletic director Jim Barratt’s cigar … Dick Fosbury flopping to gold.

I remember my mother, an ex-county commissioner, bursting with pride at the 100th anniversary celebration of the county building … the opening of the time box … my stepfather showing me $10,000,000 in bonds he was transferring the next day to Portland for the city … the handcuffs that went with the briefcase.

I remember leaving Corvallis for better jobs and opportunities for me elsewhere … but no matter where I am physically I remember that Corvallis is roots … Corvallis is home.

We Knew Where - Kevin Johnsrude

Laura and I left Minneapolis in 1985 to work at an agricultural research station in Peru between the Andean foothills and the Amazon rain forest. Shortly after we arrived, first Shining Path guerillas, then government counter-terrorist troops, began terrorizing the people of the area. We were not safe, so we reluctantly quit our jobs.

We took the little money we had made and traveled for several months through Peru and Ecuador, staying in three-dollar-a-night hotels. Tourists were safe from political violence. We met many Europeans, but very few Americans. Most of the Americans we did meet were from the Corvallis area.

When we returned to the States, we loaded our car with camping gear, a hundred pounds of books and a fiddle and drove to Corvallis. We knew where we wanted to live. We would find work when we arrived.

Connecting the Generations - Linda Olsen, Philomath

Who replaced John Lewis’ tombstone? Through this article in the 1980 Corvallis Gazette-Times, I met a new cousin. She and her sister traveled to cemeteries in Benton and Polk counties, searching for our past generations, and knew the tombstone had been replaced. Since our first conversation, we have spent many more years sharing family history. Our John Lewis and his extended family came to Oregon by wagon train in 1845 and established the town of Lewisville. I learned that although his land claim was in Polk County, he was an early land owner in Benton County, owning two lots and an improvement on Second Street in the village of Corvallis. Three of his children eventually settled in Benton County: Jeremiah V. Lewis, Nancy Lewis Cook, and Mary Ann Elizabeth Lewis Fuller. Later some of his grandchildren settled here too.

So where were they in 1857? John Lewis had died; however, his descendants remained in Oregon. John’s granddaughter, who was my great grandmother, Mary Catherine Lewis Allen, married on her 15th birthday in 1856, lost an infant, and by November of 1857 had another son. She and her family settled near Philomath. Our Lewis descendants continue to thrive in Benton County and elsewhere.

Read the 2006 Festival Stories