From Idanha to Old Detroit to New Detroit
by Pam O’Brien Doan
In 1949 my parents lived in Idanha, Oregon. However I was born in Bend, Oregon. Mother was adamant about which road to travel when it came time for me to be born. She refused to have dad take her over the road to Salem from Idanha because it was so scary and the word from her was treacherous.
I have photographic memory and to this day I remember being held by someone leaving the old Bend hospital. While being held I was looking toward the wall. The hallway was dark but there was enough light and I saw images of people in picture frames and the next images I saw were large doors with windows which was allowing light in the hall and we were walking out to a parked vehicle. There seemed to e a mound of dirt or rocks where the care was. That was the only memory as a newborn being taken out of the St. Charles Hospital.
Dad couldn’t come over the pass yet because of an avalanche that had blocked the pass. Mom and I had to stay in a boarding house.
The owner took care of my mom and I for a week before dad could come to get us. The owner had a friend who she asked to help her at the time since she was busy with other tasks. The friend was Kathleen Eloise Rockwell, better known as “Klondike Kate”. Klondike Kate took care of my mom and I. Mom and Kate became friends.
Dad finally came over the pass by himself. Someone loaned him a pickup and he put rocks in the back to give it more traction. We returned home to Idanha. We lived in Idanha from 1946 until we moved to old Detroit in 1950. At the time dad was a millwright for the mill which was across the road from us just at the bend of the road going up towards the Marion Lodge and Santiam pass. He also ran the gas station there with his partner who embezzled money and dad had to close down the gas station as he was broke.
In 1950 mom and dad moved and lived in Tillamook for six months before moving to old Detroit. I was just a year old and didn’t have any memory of the town. Dad was a Logger at the time.
The Dam Was Built and the Move Began
I was three years old when we moved up to new Detroit. My memory of sawdust filled the air. I could hear the power saws throughout the new town. My parents purchased a small cabin and a larger house which dad would have to remodel it when they purchased their property. The location of the cabin in “old Detroit” was at the end of town. It was on the east side along the river. The larger house was located next to the Sophie family up on a knoll in “old Detroit”. The two structures were then moved up next to Max Finnigan’s property on Erin St. We determined that the larger house was built in the late 20’s so it could be 95 – 105 years old.
Dad had purchased 2 lots and we were the only ones living at that location. We were no more than three blocks from the lake. Just past our house and at the corner before going up the little hill to Clester St. there was a log house on the left side of the road. It looked like an A frame. It was called the Town Hall. A deep creek ran from north down in front of the meeting hall and a small bridge was built to access the building. The creek went under Erin Street at the corner and diagonal to the lake.
Max Finnigan and his wife, I can’t remember her name owned two white houses facing each other with a ig wide parking lot between them. Max established four one room log cabins for rentals. One however was his Carpenter shop. The Carpenter shop was located next to our one room cabin. The fence ran behind them with the old growth timber shadowing them throughout the day. The timber also wa behind their house and ran along Erin St. right down to the then named Snyder’s property and boat landing. I remember Max working inside running his saw or pounding on wood. His shop also smelled thick with sawdust. Many times Max would be repairing one of the cabins. Someone renting it would undoubtably damage something. The cabins were always rented out in the spring and throughout the summer months for families or fisherman enjoying lake activities.
Max and his wife were wonderful kind people. Max wasn’t a very tall man, maybe 5’7 probably close to my dads’ height. He wore light tan work clothes and he always wore a tan cloth Fedora hat. He had a pug nose and wore round wired rimmed glasses. When I would go out to play Max was always outside working either in his shop or around his property. His wife was a sweet soft spoken lady and they both watched over me like I was their own. Their children were already raised and had families of their own. I believe they had a son and daughter not sure. We did at one time visit his son in Estacada. They had a slew of kids.
When mom and dad had to go somewhere I got to stay with Max and his wife. I remember her cooking meals. She always wore an apron like my mom. Women did that in those days because they didn’t want to get their clothe spotted with food. Their wardrobe of clothing were few. She was a good cook and they had chickens. One day Max was out at the side of their house and he had an ax in one hand and holding a chicken by its legs by the other hand. H told me to step back cause he was preparing the chicken for dinner and I might get some blood on my clothes. I really didn’t understand at the time but he raised his hand with that ax and chopped that chickens head off. My eyes got big as I stepped aside cause I thought it was going to run into me. It raan about five feet stopped and fell over. He then gave it to his wife and she proceeded to pluck it and clean it. The end result was better fried chicken than preparing it.
When you walked through the door you faced the west side of Finnigan’s house. It was an open concept dinning room/front room. it was good size and had windows on the south and east walls making it nice and light inside. To the immediate right was Mrs. Finnigan’s kitchen. One foot down on the left from the kitchen doorway was another entry way into their bedroom and then the bathroom. I always slept on their couch. Next to the couch on the end table was their unique lamp. It was a replica of a Conestoga wagon. When you lifted the tongue of the wagon, the light would turn on. This was a cool thing for a little kid and at the opposite side of the couch they had a huge bronze horse with a saddle on it. Of course I was entertained by the TV they had. We didn’t have one and I was hooked.
From time to time Max and his wife would move into the other house while someone else rented their other home. You entered the doorway into the front room. Her kitchen was directly to the left. The bedroom was at the end of the east front room wall. The bathroom was through their bedroom. Entering the front door an old time sewing machine was against the north wall. Mrs. Finnigan would let me sit at it and put my feet on the ol flat long peddle which moved the needle up and down. It was a beautiful fancy machine with scrolled letter ing on it and deep dark wood holding the base of the machine. The peddle was scrolled wrought iron.
The kids from the neighborhood and I were allowed in those days to play anywhere our legs carried us. Mom’s and dad’s were never worried about us because neighbors watched out for each other. The Finnigans had a clothesline stretched out between the east white house connecting to the shop consisting of four lines. One day one of the renters had his clothes drying on the clothesline including his boxer shorts. What a neat idea we thought was to put as many marshmallows in the four or five shorts lined up. At the end of the day when Mr. Finnigan called me over by the clothesline I knew I was in trouble. No spanking but a good tongue lashing which broke my heart and I always showed my best behavior around them after that.
One day Max came to our house. He told mom that Mrs. Finnigan was very sick and asked if she could go with him to the hospital. It was in the middle of the day and dad was working. I got in the front seat of his care while mom sat in back with Mrs. Finnigan laying her had in mama’s lap. As we drove into Mill City mom spoke softly to Mr. Finnigan telling him that she had just passed away. I believe she had a bad heart. I’m not sure where he took her after that but I do remember her funeral was at the old Scio church that has since been replaced by a new church.
Our little cabin didn’t have a porch so dad put a large cut tree trunk for us to step up onto to go into the cabin. There were two windows in front. One wind on the front right side, left front, the east wall and the backside just above mothers sink. Our cat used to sit on the ledge of the kitchen window and pier in to see us. Dad didn’t like cats but he tolerated three legged “Old Tom” for my sake.
Our couch which my sister and I slept on was in the front right corner and mom and dads bed was located almost in the middle of the room with the headboard against the back wall. To the left wall was moms old massive cook stove. There was no bathroom. A coffee can sat next to the end of the couch if we didn’t want to go to the Outhouse/Privy. We felt it was way too far to go in the middle of the night.
We spent one or two years in the cabin while dad worked on the main house. I helped him by pulling old nails out of the front door frame. I do know we had at least one Christmas in the cabin. The tree was in the corner next to our bed that almost touched the ceiling. It sparkled with mamas ornaments and had different colored Bubble Lights with sparkling metal foil tinsel.
One summer dad was chopping wood at the corner of the cabin on a tree block and a long black snake was making his way near the house as I abruptly stopped in my tracks and went running to dad. He said it must e a water snake as it was struggling to move along the ground. It ended up on the tree block where dad chopped wood.
In the back of the cabin was the mountain, my future playground. It was full of old growth and underbrush. An old huge dead partial tree laid just behind the barbwire fend. It was dark beyond the fence for the canopy of trees and I was hesitant to wonder too far. The tree was so large that I could crawl inside it. The ground was layered with fur needles so thick it was like walking on thick soft pillows. The base of trees throughout were laden with heavy moss and bright beautiful green fern grew everywhere. The air was damp and it was so very quiet. I always kept close to the cabin but mom had to call me occasionally because I was infatuated with my surroundings that I lost track of time.
In 1954 we moved into the house. The well was capped and we had running water. Dad used a Willow branch to locate water for our well. My grandpa also found their well water the same way so “like father like son” as they say. Dad completed enough of the structure and we were able to settle finally in more than one room. We still didn’t have the bathroom completed. The Out House or Privy which is the correct term had to be used. It was located halfway between the cabin and the house. There were two bedrooms in the house. We didn’t have doors for them but just long heavy curtains mom made. One day my sister and Jimmy Stauhlman was playing Monopoly. Jimmy would always come over and play card games with Lauralee. They sat next to the east window at a card table and played their games without noticing any goings on around them. One time while Jimmy was there, I had to take a bath and of course not in a regular bathtub but a round mettle wash tub. My sister was suppose to attend to me by supplying me with a towel. I was done and dripping wet. I was but 4 or 5 years old and didn’t know what to do. I stood at the bathroom door and asked my sister to help but she ignored me so I ran from the bathroom to my bedroom like a flash through the curtain. My sister looked up to ask me what I was doing and I told her I needed a towel and to help me. No response. I ran back to the bathroom. That time she jumped up and entered the bathroom to give me a towel while Jimmy was laughing and telling Lauralee “take care of your little sister”.
One evening while the family was settled in their beds, I woke to some noise I thought I heard outside. Our bedroom window faced the mountain and I slept next to the window. My eyes got as big as saucers when I saw a big black bear meandering around just below. I watched him go down along the fence line and back into the woods.
The living room looked huge to me. There was an east window and a south window and during Christmas dad would put the Christmas tree between the two windows. I remember dad also replacing the floor and using a big large heavy buffing machine to sand it and then it was stained and sealed. He was so proud of that oak floor.
The oil stove was located on the north wall with the stove pipe connection to the chimney that also shared mom’s big cook stove in her kitchen. The stove was white and had a shelf on top. Dad always supplied wood kindling for mom when she had to cook dinner but it too kept the rooms cozy and warm. Little handles opened the spaces where the kindling was placed. Mom baked bread every week and also made yummy donuts. The aroma of those meals were heavenly too. My noon naps were down on the floor behind that cookstove. I would take crackers and nibble a couple before the warmth of the stove gave way to slumber.
Mom was elated when she finally got a washroom where she could do her laundry. Dad built a little extension shed just adjacent from the kitchen. All mom had to do is walk out the back door from the kitchen to the washroom Dad made a solid porch walkway so she didn’t have to step down and walk to the structure then step up. He also built a roof over the walkway so she didn’t have to walk in the rain. I stayed away from the washroom after getting my arm caught in the old wringer washer cover.
The house had a good size kitchen and our table was located in the corner next to the back door. Her kitchen window faced the neighbor who had a Chinchilla farm. There were cupboards to the right and at the end of them on the wall was mom’s old Cuckoo clock. On the hour a little Swiss girl came out and then a Swiss boy, then a bird which cuckoo’d.
Between the house and the little cabin was the Privy. Closer to the house was moms clothesline. In front of the clothesline was moms vegetable garden and flower garden Our car driveway was next to the west end of the house. Each day after breakfast I would go out and sit on the big front porch deciding who to see and what to do. Most times I sat with pals Sparky a Cocker mix and old Tom the cat. My life was outside mostly. Very seldom would I stay in and the weather would determine that. One late summer we had a thunder storm and I watched the lightening from our big picture window. The thunder cracked so hard it vibrated the house.
I had a beaten path to the Browns’ home. Gordon and Lucile and their daughter twins Linda Lee and Donna Dee Brown. In front of our house was the backside of homes which lined Clester St. to the lake. At the corner was the Clester’s home. Bonita their daughter was one of my buddies. Boots Champion and her husband lived directly in front of us and across the creek. The front of their house was facing Clester St. On Tuesday’s we were always invited to go over and watch TV. We watched the Red Skelton show and Playhouse 90. Boots would fix crackers and cheese for snacks. She wrote for the Mill City newspaper and logged current events of Detroit. I didn’t know anyone else on either side of their home. My sister did babysit for the people next to the Champions.
Donna, Linda, Bonita and I were always together meeting up with the other neighborhood kids. We went from one end of town to the other end. Playing at the lake for a while and then at one of the other homes along Clester St. We would go visit Donna and Linda’s grandparents just to see what they were up to. We would play at the Humphrey house down from grandpa and grandma Browns’. The Humphrey house was big and tall. It was painted gray with orange trim I believe. The steps leading to the front door was many and quite high. To the left was a picture window. Inside was a decent size front room. I remember the stove being at the left of the window in the corner. When I went up the stairs I could see sometimes the kids gathered around the warm stove. We walked through the kitchen to a utility that led out to the back yard. What a playground for us. We spent many hours playing back there. They had a miniature playhouse we could go in and sit down in. It had a door and a window opening. Also there was a fascinating swing I thought at the time. I had never seen anything like it before. The swing was made of pole logs. It had a platform so you could rest your feet on it and it was a double seater so 4 kids could sit easily and swing. We would play hide and seek and climb the trees. One day I decided to climb one of the trees to the very top. I could see the whole layout of the school football field, playground and beyond. If my mom would have found out what I did, I probably wouldn’t have been able to sit for a while. Many hours were spent at the playground or inside the big play area at school when it rained . We kept busy with our activities there.
On down from Humphrey’s was Becky’s house. She and I used to play together and we also played with the kids just on the end at the corner street before you went up the hill. The end house was white with a white picket fence. They also had a TV. Their front room was a very small room but we gathered bunched up together on the couch to watch Mr. Moon at noon time.
On up to Short Ave. there were about three log home where people rented for the summer. Around that corner I remember there was a home that the schools music teacher lived. Donna and Linda were excellent singers and we would go and listen to kids play their musical instruments. We would also sing. One tune I recall was “Mocking Bird Hill”.
I was still young and didn’t know how to swim yet but the older kids showed me enough that I could dog paddle. Never did phase me to play around the docks and water. We used to go under the dock and see very deep and light green water. One time we stayed late and I saw mom walking down and yelling at me for being in the water. Mom didn’t like to have me down there. She was always afraid of water. She couldn’t swim. One summer my sister swam across the lake over to highway 22. Someone had bet her she couldn’t do it. There were the older teenagers who took a rubber raft and paddled it behind her just to make sure she was safe.
On the opposite side where the old road went to old Detroit we used to look for old fishing gear when the lake was down in the winter. I remember the Geibler’s who lived just at the start of the old road to the old Detroit. Mom used to visit Pearl and she also came to visit mom.
Our playground of course extended beyond the fence behind our property. As I got older the kids and I would run the deer trails up the mountain to the top and down the other side to the lake. Our trails became beaten down and there were fun hide and seek games as well as being surprised by squirrels, rabbits, etc. The first time however was significant to me. I reached the top and there was fern everywhere with lush grass growing in an opening surrounded by thick trees. It was maybe an 800 square foot perimeter and the sun was able to shine down on brilliant fauna. Over in the corner a little shadowed by the trees, stood three log poles. At the top there was ragged material and twine. The material was shredded on the edges and hanging down. This I thought was once a special place where people once lived. I was awe struck and by then was aware of Native Americans.
The Santiam Indigenous Tribe of the Willamette Valley, were partly made up of the Calapooia Indigenous people. They extended from the South Santiam near Sweet Home and along the Calapooia river area to the North Santiam river up past Idanha.
One day while I was sitting on our porch I saw an Indian leading his mule as his wife and child were riding. My dad was working on his car and saw them See went out to talk to him and while he did I also went to them and just walked around the mule to gaze at the boy and his mom. I stood there quietly while dad talked to the man. The little boy was dressed in loose clothing of nothing special but might have been hand me downs. His mother had long black braided hair and she wore pants with a cotton top with a jacket over it. The man also had longer hair than normal, and had a shiny belt, wearing black pants. Mom asked dad about them and dad said they were going down to the lake. I never saw them return and always wondered where they went to.
Some of the functions was attending the Detroit Community Church and the Bible school in Idanha during the summer with my sister. The old church in Idanha offered cookies and milk at noon. There was a man who came to tell us about the story of Jesus and he had felt material he put on a black board and the material glowed in florescent colors. One thing I didn’t like was having to cross over the bridge and the Santiam river in Idanha. Very scary. I also attended Brownies at one of the cabins along the Santiam river in Idanha.
My memory of first grade class was the penmanship, shots, lunchtime and the playground. The teacher’s writing lessons always began with her playing music. We made our circles of o’s, e’s, and loops of l’s to music. Took me a while to get that alphabet down. The playground was my favorite time of day. I ran from the shots we had to have a few times. The gymnasium was huge and there were many functions to enjoy. There were seasonal carnivals and it was also used as a movie theatre. The whole family would go and sit on single benches to watch a John Wayne movie. I always cried when they shot the Indians. I do remember one phrase from John Wayne. “That’ll be the day”. The movie, “The Searchers”.
The winter weather always promised a blanket of winter snow. I loved the snow falling. The flakes were so big and the neighborhood would be a blanket of white. At the Town Hall one evening every year they would hold a special time for Santa to come and greet the kids. As I peered out the window of our house I eagerly watched kids and family going into the building. I knew it would soon be my turn. Dad and mom took me by my hand and as we approached the bridge. The light from within was a warm glow. Next to the wall and either stove or fireplace was Santa sitting with a boy telling what he wanted. I eagerly waited and soon gave my wish to Santa. Each child was given a mesh red stocking of goodies. An orange, small candies and nuts. That was my treat and highlight at Christmas.
The White’s used to live on the left side of the church. I recall going to their home quite often as my sister Virgillia was married to their son Clifford White. There was a piano in the very small front room and the dinning room was just on the other side of the piano. Next door to the White’s was their son Stan White and his wife Rosemarie. They had children David and Kathleen. They were my age so we played together quite a bit. I stayed one night with them. Back then we had slumber/pajama parties and Bonita Clester was the one who kept us awake at night. She was a little chatter box.
The Cooks store and Sophie’s stores were the only ones in town. Cooks had two daughters that I played with upstairs above their store or in the back of the store. The floor would creek. At the Sophie store I recall one time while no one was looking I snatched a candy bar. I always was gazing at the candy. As we left my sister who took me to the store made me take the candy back her what I had done. I gave it to Mr. Sophie and told him I was very sorry.
I stayed a few times with my sister and her husband Clifford White up at Breitenbush. His dad was the principal of the Detroit school. Clifford worked for the Forest Service. They had a beautiful log house. I recall going with Clifford out in the forest to mark large trees. Those trees were massive to a little three year old at the time but when I was older, my other sister Lois took my nephew and I to Breitenbush to swim. Randy and I would run the paths and stop at the hot, hot spring areas. I remember a sign that warned us of the dangers of the location. A young girl at one time fell into the hot water when she lost her footing. I believe she didn’t survive. The old Breitenbush lodge was beautiful. I watched people come in and out and wanted to go in but mama told me those people were more well off than we were and we couldn’t go in.
We had no homeless but we did have a town drunk. He was a very nice man but he was partial to his Lucky Lager Beer. He was a tall heavy set man with a problem with his arm which didn’t function well. He wore a hat and I remember one of his shirts being red and black checkered wool.. While we played at Gordon and Lucilles’ home we would see him walking down Patton Rd. His favorite place to drink was just off the road to the right under two or three big fur trees. There were two large dead trees decaying and he would lean up against them and drink his beer. We sometimes would go over and talk to him. When he left he would drop his bottles on the ground. If it had been more than a couple days before we went over to check his spot out there would be quart bottles on the ground. We would collect all of them and take them to the store and cash them in for money to guy candy. Bubble gum and candy cigarets were our favorite.
Detroit will always be my home town. I attended the first grade and the third grade. In 1957 my mother, sister and I had to live up on Budlong hill in Mill City because dad went to Alaska to work in a logging camp at Edna Bay. In the fall of 1957 we went back to Detroit but in 1958 I was pulled out of school to move to Oakdridge where dad worked in the woods a short time and then on construction. We never returned to Detroit. Dad worked on every dam in Oregon except the Detroit dam. In 1963 after renting the little house on Erin St. for five years mom and dad sold it and settled in Sweet Home, Oregon.
