NOTE: This will be the last of these oral-history readings until at least summer. If you have been enjoying them, please reach out and let me know. — This one is writer Sara B. Wrenn's oral history interview with the great-granddaughter of old Sam Barlow — he of the Barlow Road. They discuss a famous avenue of black walnuts, which are probably the progenitor-trees of every black walnut in the state today; and some twin-sisters hijinks that took place on a riverboat, and changed the destiny of an entire pioneer family. (For the transcript, see https://www.loc.gov/item/wpalh001993/ )

SOMETIME IN 1922, a letter came in to the city of Pendleton. Enclosed with it was a bill for $45 — for a set of new Goodyear tires.

It seemed the letter writer had come to Pendleton for the annual Pendleton Round-Up and had lost both front tires to the city’s downtown potholes.

Pendleton’s potholes were famous, both for their size and for their intractability. They seemed hungry; one filled them up and a few weeks later they were empty again, as if some night-stalking gravel thief had scooped it all out.

It wasn’t until the 1970s and 1980s, when some of Pendleton’s most intractable roadbeds got a complete rebuild, that road crews realized what the problem had been:

Tunnels. The town was honeycombed with them, running a few feet below the ground level, connecting the basements and sidewalk vaults downtown with various other places nearby.

And, that’s how the Pendleton Underground was rediscovered. (Pendleton, Umatilla County; 1890s, 1900s 1910s, 1920s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/2410d1001e_PendletonUnderground-673.059.html)

The farmer was a former Union general; the pastor, an ex-Rebel soldier who once faced his forces on a battlefield. But in Corvallis, they traded enmity for friendship, and blue-vs.-gray for Beavers-vs.-Ducks. (Corvallis, Benton County; 1890s, 1900s, 1910s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1510b.bell-thorp-civil-war-story.360.html)

A Linn County case with a strong element of self-defense, and a Malheur County child-abuse travesty that ended with a shotgun blast, were called Unwritten Law triumphs in the newspapers — but there were differences. (Linn and Malheur County; 1900s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1509d.powell-n-brown-UnLaw.html)

Part 2 of 2: WPA writer William Haight's oral history interview with Gertrude Balch Ingalls, sister of legendary frontier Columbia Gorge writer Frederic Balch (author of The Bridge of the Gods, and probably the first really important author in Oregon history) recalling ghost stories, common superstitions of frontier folk, and some personal memories of attending weeks-long camp revival meetings. (For the transcript, as well as a good bit of additional content such as song lyrics and original poetry by Frederic Balch, see https://www.loc.gov/item/wpalh001941/ )

One-term governor had a team of secret agents working for him, trying to subvert labor unions and ferret out communists; but most of their efforts seemed to end up scoring points for the “other team.” (Salem, Marion County; 1930s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1601a.charles-martin-part3.272.html)

The retired major general campaigned as a New Deal Democrat, but dropped the mask almost immediately; seeing every hint of opposition as an existential threat to democracy, he reacted to criticism like a junta dictator. (Salem, Marion County; 1930s) (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1512d.charles-martin-part2.html)

REMEMBER GENERAL JACK D. Ripper, the character from the 1964 movie “Dr. Strangelove; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb”? Can you imagine what might have happened if General Ripper had been elected governor?

For Oregonians, just a few years ago, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. In 1934, voters elected a retired major general named Charles Henry Martin — known to the soldiers assigned to his care during the First World War as “Old Iron Pants.” And although Martin isn’t known to have gone on any anti-fluoridation rants or spluttered about “precious bodily fluids,” his political style was more than a little reminiscent of Ripper’s … and, of course, it’s not a work of fiction.

“If things come to a crisis,” he wrote to a sympathetic fellow military man in 1937, while discussing the likelihood of a Communist takeover in America, “there are enough strong men left in the country to handle it properly. … The Italians wouldn’t submit; they organized their blackshirts. The Germans wouldn’t submit, so they had their brownshirts and Hitler. I don’t believe Americans will submit.”

Left unmentioned in this remark was any suggestion for who might play the role of the American “strong man” analogous to Mussolini or Hitler, but it seemed clear that he felt himself to be up to the challenge if called upon to do so. (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1512c.charles-martin-fascist-dictator-part1-370.html)

IT WAS A little after 6 a.m. on June 14, 1907. Dawn was just brightening the decks of the passenger steamer Alliance, docked at the pier in Astoria, when John Bowlsby saw his prey step aboard. He fingered the big .44 in his pocket and tried to stay out of sight, waiting for a chance to make his move.

His chance came almost immediately. The marked man was moving away from the crowd of people, and soon he stood in a spot where Bowlsby felt he could get in a good shot without risking hitting any bystanders. Carefully he steadied the big revolver against the side of a deckhouse — and pulled the trigger.

Bowlsby’s target, a fellow North Bend man named Cleve Jennings, died in a hospital eight hours later. Meanwhile, with his head held high, a triumphant John Bowlsby quietly submitted to arrest and handed over his revolver.

Hard as it is for a modern person to believe, this cold-blooded assassination met with widespread approval. It was about as close to a pure example of “The Unwritten Law” in action as Oregon would ever see.

“It was the outcome of one man alienating the affections of another man’s wife and was the result of a manhunt in which the hunter finally found his game,” wrote the Morning Oregonian’s Astoria correspondent the next day. (For text and pictures, see https://offbeatoregon.com/1509a.bowlsby-jennings-UnLaw-355.html)

Part 1 of 2: WPA writer William Haight's oral history interview with Gertrude Balch Ingalls, sister of legendary frontier Columbia Gorge writer Frederic Balch (author of The Bridge of the Gods; no known relation to Danford Balch, btw) including details of a childhood in a strict Methodist home, featuring frequent tent revival meetings and such. (For the transcript, see https://www.loc.gov/item/wpalh001941/ )