The last post contained Edna Finley Buchanan's memories of
childhood in the Irish Bend area. This post will continue those recollections
with her descriptions of the operation of the warehouse owned by her father, Hugh McNary Finley.
Hugh Finley had entered the warehouse business after
purchasing it and thirty acres of land from a man named Hamilton. Edna recounts:
“We had come to a grain growing section to live. Wheat and
oats were the principal market crops and from Monroe east into the Bellfountain
section and north for miles, grain was stored in warehouses to await shipment
by river steamers that plied between Harrisburg and Portland throughout the
winter season.”
“From early morning until at night, the long line of wagons
and teams waited their turn to unload.
They came from Bellfountain, the Starrs, the Waggoners, the Barnards,
the Edwards, and many more. The Graggs came driving their heavy team of matched
bays, carrying a decorated harness set with cold [gold?] colored rivets and
rings. They brought their loads of
wheat, oats, and barley from above Monroe and near Junction City. Those were busy days.”
“One of the functions of the Finley warehouse was to furnish
sacks to the growers. To do this,
several journeys to Corvallis, fifteen miles away, with wagon and team was
necessary. My Father made these trips, returning with a load of 3,000 sacks,
two bales of 1,000 each and one opened bale stored under the high seat and in
crevices. As five hours was consumed on
the return trip, it was toward evening when he reached home.... The team
consisted of one black and one white horse.
After traveling twelve miles on the now West Side Pacific Highway No.
99W, then a road inches deep with dust, made the black horse light colored as
the white horse and both be ground with the Good Earth.”
“For some time the power used to elevate the grain was Bill,
the black horse, which was faithful and true to every duty.... Bill was hitched
to a pole and patiently walked hour by hour around a circular post, the horse
urged on by a boy driver carrying a
hazel stick as a threat.... He traveled round and round and round the beaten
dusty path. I remember feeling great indignation when visiting boys seeking to
“show off” would climb upon old Bill's back as he trudged around the circle.”
“In winter the boats came to load and carry the grain to
Portland-- large river boats. The
Occident, the Bonanza, the Champion.
Later these were replaced by smaller boars, the Three Sisters and The
Ruth.
The Ruth was in charge of Captain Raab, related to the
Bradleys of Bellfountain. Often the
boats reached Finley's Landing in the evening and took on their load at night.”
“In our quiet lives, it was a matter of great interest when
the boat whistle broke on the air, especially the blast that meant the boat
would load at Finley's Landing. This was
three long blasts. In a short time,
neighborhood men and boys would arrive on horseback ready to help load the
boats. For this service, father paid his
helpers twenty-five cents an hour and mother served a bountiful meal when the
work was over. It was a real social
event as well as a money-making event.
We children stood and watched the men haul the sacks on their truck, six
at a time, to the chute and slide them to the boat where they were gracefully
dropped from the chute platform into trucks handled by the “deck hands” and
wheeled away into the hold. If the boat
loaded in the evening, it remained at our landing overnight. Sometimes the purser would buy milk or eggs
from us.”
“Soon after the grain shipment was made, father would hire a
crew and sack more grain from the bins that held the loose grain.”
“Time passed and a new storage building was erected...the
grain was sacked from the bins, trucked through the long room into the large
room and stacked eight sacks high by such stalwart men as George Houck, Tom
Richardson, or Martin Grimsley....George Houck was a tall, loose-jointed man
with big nose, feet, and hands, and had a big heart. He was a batchelor [sic] and had a cabin of
his own but fitted with our needs so well, he became like one of the
family. The warehouse work was heavy
work, but he was strong and willing. He
could handle a sack of wheat as though it were a toy....
“The greatest improvement in the business occurred when Old
Bill was replaced by an [steam] engine.... This was not a traction engine, but a
stationary one so Bill and Ben hauled it from Corvallis one night. When morning
dawned, we two children were treated to an unusual sight for the big black
engine stood by the yard fence. It was
installed in a building joining the warehouse.
A young engineer from Corvallis, Johnny De Munion, was hired to run the
machine and this he did with painstaking pride.
This boy, Johnny, was also full of pranks and sometimes amused himself
at the expense of an inquisitive visitor or two.... Suddenly, and without
warning, he would release the steam with a loud, loud sound. Since engines were not common and considered
rather dangerous, the men rushed from the room speedily to save their lives. Johnny would settle down in his chair and
enjoy the joke greatly and have something to relate to the family at the supper
table....
“The warehouse industry had competition in mills. New mills were being built in towns or on
highways by railroad tracks for trains were replacing steamboats. Millers
stored grain free of charge so the need of warehouses ended. As Father's business gradually folded up, he
set out an orchard consisting largely of prunes and so became a pioneer prune
grower.”
By Martha Fraundorf, Volunteer for Benton County Historical Society, Philomath, Oregon
