Transitions

After losing his mother changes were made in the family’s lifestyle. The ranch was leased out and Grandpa Haggerty moved them into the nearby town of Union. After her death there were several people in the community that came into their life to help their dad with housekeeping and child care. One of these families was the Cadwells. They had two boys and one girl. The boy closest to dad’s age was called Fat and what his real name was I do not know, however when I met him as a little 5 year old girl that was still his name and it remained until his death. Fat went on to be a farmer, his older brother left the small town life to work for Standard Oil in San Francisco and his little sister married a local farmer and stayed in the county. The Cadwells home was always open to the Haggerty children and dad told many stories about time spent there. Mrs. Cadwell supplied childcare for the recently widowed father and they all felt at home with this family. My favorite story from dad was about a trick Fat played on them. They all piled in bed, just like today’s sleepovers, and Fat said cover your head I am going to spit in the ocean. Thinking that he was going to spit on them they dove under the covers only to suffocate from Fat breaking wind! During my childhood just the mention of spitting in the ocean brought torrents of laughter. Oh for those simpler less sophisticated times! Their housekeeper was Mrs. Kamberg. She was a widowed mother. She kept the laundry done and the house clean as well as put good meals on the table. Her son Bert was a life long friend of dad’s even though they lived in different states most of their adult life. Bert would often stop by when he was in Portland and I remember him and his wife well. Unfortunately, he had developed arthritis as a young man and it caused him to be bent over from a young age. He was a very successful business man inspite of his handicap.
In those days Union, was like most small towns, self contained. A mix of horse drawn carriages or wagons and a sprinkling of automobiles provided the main transportation. It took too long to get to the largest town in the county that might have more to chose from so everything the citizens needed to survive was available at the local merchants. The butcher shop cut meat as you requested, the hardware served the needs of the townpeople as well as supplies for the surrounding farms and ranches. Clothing was available from work clothes to wedding dresses in the small department store and a dime store supplied a variety of fabrics, yarn, embroidery thread and all the supplies needed to create the finished product. After moving to town my Grandfather bought a general store which supplied groceries and other items not found in the other stores. There was a creamery, a flour mill and a lumber mill and all these supplied jobs to the townspeople.
Grandpa had been a miner before he married my grandmother and they moved to the Wilkinson family 750 acre homestead where my grandmother and subsequently her children were both born.. He had carried on there with his cheese business and the milk ranch, but now he found himself a widower with three children. He was not a young man as he was 40 when my dad his oldest child was born and was now in his fifties. In those days it was unusual to start anew at his age but he had a family to support and educate.
After moving to town my Grandfather bought a general store which supplied groceries and other items not found in the other stores. He was a popular merchant for several reasons. His store carried the necessities, he had a quick wit and he was a very loving and caring man. Unforturnately the latter characteristic was eventually his undoing. In the late 30’s early 40’s things began to change in Union and a new grocery store opened called Cash and Carry. Those words created the dynamic that spelled the end of Grandpa’s store. The reason - the name meant what it said. You pay cash and I can turn that money around into filing my store with the a larger variety of fresh groceries. In Grandpa’s store the customers ran a tab and paid when they could. This crippled the ability to maintain a steady flow of fresh items that were in demand as cash was not always available and in those days the suppliers did not wait for their money. They brought the produce, canned goods, etc., etc. and you payed for it.. The world was changing and the old-fashioned ways were changing. Sadly many of the customers abandoned the Haggerty General Store leaving behind unpaid tabs and Grandpa was forced out of business. I remember being in his store when I was very young. It was not long after the end of the store, when, I was six, that my parents bought the ranch from Grandpa. My life was then imprinted with the beauty of open space, and the joy of feeling at home in a small town where the merchants knew you and it was safe to roam freely.

After losing his mother changes were made in the family’s lifestyle. The ranch was leased out and Grandpa Haggerty moved them into the nearby town of Union. After her death there were several people in the community that came into their life to help their dad with housekeeping and child care. One of these families was the Cadwells. They had two boys and one girl. The boy closest to dad’s age was called Fat and what his real name was I do not know, however when I met him as a little 5 year old girl that was still his name and it remained until his death. Fat went on to be a farmer, his older brother left the small town life to work for Standard Oil in San Francisco and his little sister married a local farmer and stayed in the county. The Cadwells home was always open to the Haggerty children and dad told many stories about time spent there. Mrs. Cadwell supplied childcare for the recently widowed father and they all felt at home with this family. My favorite story from dad was about a trick Fat played on them. They all piled in bed, just like today’s sleepovers, and Fat said cover your head I am going to spit in the ocean. Thinking that he was going to spit on them they dove under the covers only to suffocate from Fat breaking wind! During my childhood just the mention of spitting in the ocean brought torrents of laughter. Oh for those simpler less sophisticated times! Their housekeeper was Mrs. Kamberg. She was a widowed mother. She kept the laundry done and the house clean as well as put good meals on the table. Her son Bert was a life long friend of dad’s even though they lived in different states most of their adult life. Bert would often stop by when he was in Portland and I remember him and his wife well. Unfortunately, he had developed arthritis as a young man and it caused him to be bent over from a young age. He was a very successful business man inspite of his handicap.
In those days Union, was like most small towns, self contained. A mix of horse drawn carriages or wagons and a sprinkling of automobiles provided the main transportation. It took too long to get to the largest town in the county that might have more to chose from so everything the citizens needed to survive was available at the local merchants. The butcher shop cut meat as you requested, the hardware served the needs of the townpeople as well as supplies for the surrounding farms and ranches. Clothing was available from work clothes to wedding dresses in the small department store and a dime store supplied a variety of fabrics, yarn, embroidery thread and all the supplies needed to create the finished product. After moving to town my Grandfather bought a general store which supplied groceries and other items not found in the other stores. There was a creamery, a flour mill and a lumber mill and all these
Grandpa had been a miner before he married my grandmother and they moved to the Wilkinson family 750 acre homestead where my grandmother and subsequently her children were both born.. He had carried on there with his cheese business and the mild ranch, but now he found himself a widower with three children. He was not a young man as he was 40 when my dad his oldest child was born and was now in his fifties. In those days it was unusual to start anew at his age but he had a family to support and educate.
After moving to town my Grandfather bought a general store which supplied groceries and other items not found in the other stores. He was a popular merchant for several reasons. His store carried the necessities, he had a quick wit and he was a very loving and caring man. Unforturnately the latter characteristic was eventually his undoing. In the late 30’s early 40’s things began to change in Union and a new grocery store opened called Cash and Carry. Those words created the dynamic that spelled the end of Grandpa’s store. The reason - the name meant what it said. You pay cash and I can turn that money around into filing my store with the a larger variety of fresh groceries. In Granpa’s store the customers ran a tab and paid when they could. This crippled the ability to maintain a steady flow of fresh items that were in demand. The world was changing and the old-fashioned ways were changing. Sadly many of the customers abandoned the Haggerty General Store leaving behind unpaid tabs and Grandpa was forced out of business. I remember being in his store when I was very young. It was not long after the end of the store, when, I was six that my parents bought the ranch from Grandpa. My life was then imprinted with the beauty of open space, and the joy of feeling at home in a small town where the merchants knew you and it was safe to roam freely.

Looking Back

Looking Back

Memories get distorted over time but some remain fixed in our brains even after many years. Having lived 75 years (so far) I have some vivid memories which can only be disclaimed or validated by my brother Mike.
With the holidays just gone by it seemed that the memories of Christmas’s past were flowing in and out of my thoughts more than usual. Christmas was a huge holiday when I was a child as Christmas and our birthdays were the only time that we got gifts. My mother loved all the holidays from Valentine’s Day through Christmas and they were all noted by decorations and activities but the Christmas Holidays were the big ones. Whether dad felt the same way is something I will never know but he joined in and completely supported mom to make it special.
Christmas started the day after Thanksgiving because that was when the Fairy Tale parade took place in downtown Portland. We took the bus to town and settled into our positions on the curb to watch the floats go by. Marching bands from the High Schools in and around the Portland area marched in their magnificent uniforms with the drum major in the lead. Jefferson High School had the best drum major of all who pulled the crowd into the spirit with his amusing and powerful use of the baton. Between the bands came the floats representing the fairy tales and Disney characters of the time. Dumbo, Donald Duck. Mickey Mouse, and Bambi were some making their Christmas appearance and whipping us up with Christmas dreams. The parade’s final float was the one with the “real” Santa Claus sitting up very high in his sled. I knew we were really special for Santa to take time out to be in our parade!

Sometime in the days after the parade the Cinnamon Bear stories would come on the radio and be on each Saturday until Christmas. Mike loved to listen to these stories each Saturday but I really couldn’t connect the Cinnamon Bear with Christmas. He just didn’t seem that important! The important thing took place in the first couple of weeks of December when mom would again take us on the bus to town, this time it was to sit on the “real” Santa’s lap. Santa sat on a throne like chair on the tenth floor in the Meier & Frank Department Store. We got to take the escalator up so that at each floor we were able to see kitchenwares, clothes, shoes, linens etc.etc., unlike the elevators where the operator would just announce what was on that floor in case that was the floor that had the item you wanted. I can’t remember being scared of Santa just very respectful and I don’t remember sitting on his lap, but I do remember the wonder of a toy land that never disappointed me. The Toy Land was located on the tenth floor also and I just could not imagine that their were that many toys in the whole world. Of course in those days Portland was my world and so that was why Santa and all those toys were there.

Mike and I made lists to send to Santa and sometimes we also got an answer from him. We were reminded quite often that we better be good if we wanted to have something under the Christmas Tree. Mom would bake more pans of cookies then we had all year and make plates up to give to the neighbors but there were always plenty left for us and Santa and the reindeer. The tree and decorations were put up about a week ahead of the big day along with a winter scene, a wreath and the creche. Mom played the piano and we sang Christmas Carols almost every night leading up to Christmas. I don’t remember ever getting tired of them in those days even though we sang them in the choir and the classroom at school each day starting in November to be ready for the night of the Christmas program.

Christmas Eve we had dinner, sang carols, fixed a plate of goodies for Santa and his reindeer, placing it on the hearth and then were off to bed with strict instructions that if we got out of bed Santa would not leave anything for us. I am sure they must have worn us out that day so we would sleep because we would never want to disturb Santa in his rounds. Sometime during the night we would hear bells on the roof and know that he had not passed us by.
The protocol for Christmas morning was something resembling torture. We had to make our beds, get dressed, eat something, brush our teeth and then line up in the hallway according to age. Dad would go in first to turn on the tree lights and we would hear exclamations of wonder or sometimes kiddingly, “oh, oh he must have passed us by”. We knew by now for sure Santa had come down the chimney. (it was better not to try to figure out how that was possible, it was easier to believe, but I always had a bit of questioning in my mind about that entrance) Dad would come back and take his place in the front of the line and we would slowly walk the few steps through the door into the wonder of Christmas. I was so excited, I vividly remember the doll buggy and doll beside the tree to this day, as well as the doll cradle (my uncle made), a doll house and games among many other wonderful things I first set my eyes and heart on in Meier & Frank’s Toy Land. The wrapped presents were always opened one at a time by the recipient. I did not receive all these on the same Christmas but over the years and I still remember the joy of first sightings on Christmas morning.

One hot summer day when I was ten my dad and I were sitting under the cherry tree in the back yard of 4221 NE 74th, our home until I was 12, when for some reason the subject of Christmas and Santa came up. It was then I learned who the real Santa was. The tears flowed like the Columbia River then but Christmas stayed the same through Francis and Emerson’s lives with the magic never leaving for them or for me.

School Days

Emerson and his siblings rode their horse through snowy days, rainy days and high country sunshine, to the one room school house in High Valley. The horse stayed in the school barn during the day and the children were responsible for the feeding and watering of their transportation. The outhouses, one for the boys and one for the girls, were a few yards away from the barn and the school. In those days a student only asked to be excused if it was extremely necessary as it was not a place they cared to linger, especially in the winter. There was a potbellied stove that heated the classroom and it was the responsibility of the boys to keep the wood box full for the day. Education was extremely important to dad’s mother and by the time he started school he was a fluent reader. After about a month in the first grade he was moved to the third grade. He continued to be a good student whose grades were always in the upper 90’s as documented on his report cards. Memorization was a tool of learning in those days no matter what the subject. When poetry was introduced he not only memorized it but fell in love with the rhythm. His love of poetry never waned and throughout his lifetime he could recite the poems he memorized in his youth. During this time he also developed a love of writing which he later exercised while documenting his travels and the Haggerty Roots.
Grandpa Haggerty, dad’s dad, was a cheese maker. There was an outbuilding on the ranch which served as a store room during the aging process. The walls of the cheese room were insulated with sawdust which was a common practice in those days to keep out heat or cold. At some point in his youth the family spent summers at the milk ranch located ten to fifteen miles east of Union on Catherine Creek. Getting there entailed loading up the horse drawn wagon with all the supplies, bedding and clothes for the summer. The boys rode the horse and sister Gracia rode on the wagon with her parents. It was a labor of love mixing work and recreation in this beautiful setting. The details escape my memory, but I am sure the name milk ranch was related to cheese making. Milking the cows by hand was not the only activity in which they took part. Fishing and exploring were part of the fun during the summers at the milk ranch. They could ride into Catherine Creek Meadows to catch the indigenous trout whose ancestors never knew a hatchery. There was no limit, so these fresh cold water treats were a mainstay in their diets. The scent of the pine trees and campfires created fond memories to last a life time.
In dad’s storytelling his youth seemed like one adventure after another to me. There were however, several devastating events which I believe were overcome by shear determination and the love and closeness of his father and siblings. When he was thirteen his mother died. She had an abdominal tumor. In those years it was not so unusual to come near death before you saw a doctor as you didn’t often see one until you were desperate. Money was scarce so trips to the doctor were not common place. His mother was a great inspiration to him and while on her death bed she had made his dad promise to send them all to college. A promise that was kept.
During his teenage years there was a polio epidemic. Dad and several classmates came down with this illness. Fortunately for him Dr. Fye a physician in Union was a pioneer in water therapy. This therapy took place at Hot Springs Sanatorium in the valley between Union and LaGrande. Through this therapy dad regained the use of his crippled leg. He always had a slight limp but never complained, except about this inability to go out for sports. This was overcome by being an avid football, baseball and basketball fan throughout his lifetime.. The truth be told there were few sports that did not interest him.

Knight in Shining Armor

The knight in shining armor never went away. From the moment mom met him and he her they were a pair as indicated in the drama with Walt’s ring in the park.

Emerson Wilkinson “Mike” Haggerty was from a very different background than Francis. The only connection was that both of their fathers had mined gold in Cripple Creek Colorado at the same time without knowing each other. Dad grew up in and around Union a small eastern Oregon town where he was known as Emerson. He came into this world in High Valley, a rural setting of small ranches in the foothills of the Wallowa Mountains. His birthing took place on February 8, 1905, in the same room where his mother had been born. His mother’s family the Wilkinsons had homesteaded their 750 acre ranch in 1861 coming across on the Oregon Trail. In hindsight it was an ideal place to grow up. He was surrounded by nature, rode his horse to the one room school and played with his younger siblings William and Gracia. However, in the reality of the moment it was a hardscrabble existence. The home had no running water, electricity or phone line. No indoor plumbing meant a cold seat in the outhouse in the middle of the winter, hauling water for household use from the spring up the hill, and chamber pots for night time relief of full bladders or worse! No one ever wanted the chore of emptying them.
The fun times were remembered by dad in the stories he told and retold. There were dances in their small sitting room with the wood stove radiating warmth. The neighbors would come with their offering of food to add to the abundant selection of dishes to choose from, the chairs would be pushed back and men, women and children danced far into the night with the babies tucked in between the layers of coats on the beds. Then out into the night they would go to hitch up the teams for the trip home. He had a vivid memory, told when I was a nursing mother, of one of the neighbors one evening at the dance, whose 5 year old was still nursing and would come up to his mother and say, “Give me some titty”. Maybe he was afraid I wouldn’t wean my children soon enough!
While having their share of chores to do the brothers did have time to explore the many miles of horse and cattle trails surrounding them. Horses cost money and had to have a purpose so the horse they had was for transportation. By riding double one horse was ample to get them to school and back and when their little sister was of school age one of them walked along side. School was only a mile away and upon arrival they would put the horse in the stall with the other kids horses l and give them some hay for their day of waiting for school to be out.
Their property was made up of foothills of timber and lowland of meadows and cultivated fields. The timbered hills were a drawing card for the biggest adventures as they backed on the wilderness and had abundant wildlife. Many times I was told about how they would ride up in the hills just to explore and while going under a low tree limb the front rider would duck only to have the fellow bringing up the rear swept off. It was too far to run home crying to mom or dad but the trip home was fraught with each others verbal thrusts.

Becoming an Adult

Sometime during high school mom had a ruptured appendix.  In those days that was a two week stay after surgery and another week recuperating at home.  This was the first health issue visited upon her and the harbinger of things to come.  She graduated from Queen Anne High School and enrolled in the University of Washington.  The stories about her college experience are lost to history.  Depending on who tells the story six weeks or six months was the time spent on higher education. I do know she was taking secretarial courses. It was ithe mid 1920’s an era made for her.  Women were venturing into new territories and she was one of them. She went to work.   Sometime in her early 20’s she met Walter Shebig, a handsome young man who courted her until she said yes to his request of marriage.  Walt, as he was called, was approved of by her parents and life was humming along.  As it was the 1920’s mother welcomed the “Flapper” life style and loved the freedom that work and Walt created for her. She was a beautiful woman with black curly hair and a complexion which highlighted her beauty.  Any man would be proud to have this “flapper” on his arm.   She went to work for the US Bank sometime after her engagement to Walt.  It is not clear if she was working for the bank in Seattle but she subsequently ended up at the US Bank in downtown Portland.  She was walking through the office one day shortly after arriving in Portland, when the stack of papers she was transporting fell from her hands.  It was a very embarrassing situation as she had not been there long and did not know too many of her fellow employees. Papers were flying everywhere when along came a knight in shining armor who helped her pick up the papers. This was the entrance into her life of Emerson Wilkinson Haggerty, known as Mike to his friends.  She liked to tell this story which was contradicted a few times when she talked about the woman who introduced them.  Maybe the woman happened to be at the scene of the flying paper accident, unfortunately we will never know.  This was the beginning of what would become a 54 year relationship with E W “Mike” Haggerty and 52 years of it in marriage.  My favorite part of this story was when she told about breaking up with Walt Shebig.  Even though she and dad hadn’t really discussed marriage she knew that “Mike” was the man she wanted to marry and so she had to give the ring back to Walt. Back to Seattle she went to take care of this uncomfortable business.  Walt and she were walking in the park at Fort Lawton when she told him that she wanted to give the ring back.  He refused to take it and she had a heated discussion with him telling him it just wasn’t going to work out. He steadfastly refused and so like any normal frustrated woman who felt she had done everything she could to explain the situation to him, she threw the ring at him and walked away.  That was not the end of Walt.  He married her sister Ida! 

Mother's Friend and Teacher Sy Garrett

Mother had a lifelong love of the natural world.  Growing up on Puget Sound where fish, clams and oysters were abundant left her with the love of fishing, digging and hunting for food.  A family friend named Sy Garrett who lived on the Olympic Peninsula also imprinted her with a knowledge of nature.  He taught her, and her siblings the names and use of the trees, flowers, mushrooms and wildlife surrounding them in the paradise they loved.  They spent hours, days and weeks with Sy tramping through the woods and along the shoreline.  Sy was a half-breed Indian as people of mixed races were labeled in those days.  A book called the "The Egg & I" by Betty MacDonald, had a character modeled after him, which upset mother as it made him look like a local yokel.  He was a game warden as well as a self-taught biologist, naturalist and teacher who would be the envy of a doctor of biology today.  Growing up in the Native American society had taught him how to live off the land and this rubbed off on mother.  She loved to fish which did not rub off on me because she always got us up at an ungodly hour to get to the trail head to hike three miles to the perfect stream.  I have come to appreciate the fact that one needs to fish at the proper time of day if we want fish for dinner, but at that time it seemed totally unnecessary.  I am sure her days spent with Sy were a wonderful escape from her mother. However, her German mother was also very frugal and I am sure loved the fact that her children would come home from Sy's with a bounty of fresh food for her to prepare. This also impacted my mother as she loved to make a meal out of freshly picked mushrooms, beef from the ranch and garden produce or any combination of locally acquired edibles.