Fred Lockley was an American journalist best known for his editorial column for the Oregon Journal, "Impressions and Observations of a Journal Man", which appeared throughout the Western United States on a nearly daily basis. Lockley also authored many books which, like his articles, were largely about his travels and interviews with early settlers in the Willamette Valley. Here is the interview he had with my ancestor Mary Esther Roland. OBSERVATTIONS AND IMPRESSIONS OF THE JOURNAL MAN By Fred Lockley A Pioneer Woman tells Mr. Lockley of the good-old days in Oregon. Which were good indeed as those that lived them, who lived in manner and form as here set forth. Hardships? To be sure, but they should worry – although that phrase of flouting had not them been invented. Miss Esther Roland lives at Jefferson. I visisted with her recently and she undertook the rather formidable contract of filling me up with ripe blackberries and Golden plums. I divided my attention between the plums and asking Miss Roland questions. “I was born in Danville, Ill,” said Miss Roland, “Joe Cannon and my brother Charlie were warm friends. My father, David R. Roland, was a tailor. Long before Abraham Lincoln become known and before even his closest friends suspected he would ever become nationally known, and loved, he used to drop in to see my father. Father made him a suit about 1850 or 1851. We came to Oregon in 1852. I was 6 years old at the time. My father, like Abraham Lincoln, was born in Kentucky, on December 20, 1801. My mother, whose maiden name was Eliza Barnes, was also born in Kentucky, on September 3, 1809. They had a good sized family. Eight of their children lived to maturity. Colonel Moores, grandfather of C.B. Moores of Portland, was captain of our wagon train. On the plains we joined the party of which the Scotts were members. Abigail, later Abigail Scott Duniway, and her people traveled with us the rest of the way. My father secured work as a tailor at Portland. Later we came to Jefferson. Jacob Consor and Uncle Jimmy Bates had adjoining claims, on which the city of Jefferson is built. Father took up 320 acres about a mile east of the present city limits of Jefferson. My first teacher was Professor C.H. Matoon, a kind hearted but erratic Baptist minister. Among my schoolmates were Pauline Looney, who still lives in Jefferson, and Squire H.A. Johnson’s boys. We attended Jefferson institute. Professor C.A., my brother-in-law, was one of the teachers in the institute, as was also Professor T.G. Taylor. I went to the institute till I was 18, then I secured a school at Scio. I was paid $25 a month and I boarded at the homes of my pupils. Later I taught at Buena Vista with Professor Beach. In 1863 I went to Walla Walla. “I remember very distinctly attending Oregon’s first state fair. Pauline Loony as straight as an Indian princess and as handsome a girl as ever you saw, won the prize saddle for the best horsemanship. Another gala event that I remember very distinctly was a Fourth of July celebration held at Santiam City. It seems strange to think there is not a vestige today of Santiam City. Elulings Miller and his family lived not far distant. Hiney Miller, better known as Joaquin Miller, was a handsome, daring young chap. He was quite fond of one of the Looney girls. It seems as if people used to have more pleasure when I was a girl. We never missed driving to Salem and camping in the oak grove during the week that the state fair was held. Old pioneers around the campfire renewed the friendships made when crossing the plains, and the young folks danced or sang, and we managed to have very pleasant times. I can remember yet how good the food used to taste during state fair week. We fried up a whole tubful of the young chickens, and made unlimited bread and cakes, and took our best jams and jellies along. They talk about the hardships of the pioneers, I suppose we did work hard, but we managed to live well. My father died in 1870, my mother 19 years later, I am the only one, of the eight children now living, but I keep young by making new friends and by keeping interested in the events of today.” A poem I recently found that I like. “Lines Suggested by One of Chopin’s Nocturnes” Love, when the waning autumn of thy life Shall find thee old and withered as the leaf, When chill October with his windy knife Harvests the faded splendor of the trees, Think that thou too wast lovely once as these; Till churlish Time came creeping like a thief And stole the luster from thy raven hair, And brushed the roses from thy rounded cheek. Think that as others even now are fair, Thou too wast beautiful and well beloved; That in thy veins no sluggish current moved Of hardy strength and goodly maidenhood. Think on the glory of thy life’s brave morn, The free spent days of passion and delight; Hard the splendor of the flaming dawn, Sweet with the starlit glow of restful night. Think thou on this, and age shall never irk; But even as one that, seeking no man’s praise, Sitting alone, reviews his handiwork Thou, too, shalt feel the glow of things achieved, In dreaming on the well remembered days, Knowing that thou of nothing are bereaved By speeding time and untoward decay, Think upon this, and all thy years shall seem A crowning glory, and decay a dream.
Posted on: Sat, 27 Jul 2013 00:14:35 +0000
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