WPA Interviews

Brandon, Eliza (Finley)

July 9, 1937

Interview with Mrs. Eliza Finley Brandon.

My name is Eliza Finley Brandon. My father was Richard Chism Finley. (Chism was his mother's maiden name.) He was a pioneer of 1846. He built the first mill on the Calapooia just below the present town of Crawfordsville in 1848. The first building erected for the mill was just a small cabin. It was washed away in the floods during the winter of 1861-62. I do not know just when the present building was erected but it was long before the first building was washed out, for at the time of the floods it had been in use for a number of years and my father was using the first building for a hog house.

My mother's name was Polly Ann Kirk Finley. She was the daughter of Alexander Kirk, pioneer of 1846 and a member of the Brown-Blakeley train.

My grandfather, Alexander Kirk spent his first winter in Polk County, coming on to the Calapooia in the spring of 1847. There he established the first ferry on the upper Calapooia where Brownsville now stands. That place was called 'Kirk's Ferry' for many years. My grandfather's first house still stands at Brownsville. It is a log cabin, but covered at some later date with sawed lumber. It is still used as a residence. Alexander Kirk was a member of Linn County's first County Court. One of the very first sessions of the court was held under a big maple tree in front of the Kirk cabin.

My father was born in Tennessee, my mother in Indiana. I was born in a log cabin near the old Finley Mill. The exact site was across the road from the 'camp ground' (Note: The 'camp ground' is the Calapooia Round-up Association 's Fairgrounds between the Finley Mill and Crawfordsville. Leslie L. Haskin, Field Worker.) I was born on April 18, 1850, the house was just a little log cabin.

When I was three years old we moved from that first cabin to a house north of Crawfordsville 'up against the hill'. I can just remember when we left that old cabin by the mill. My mother rode in an ox wagon, but we children walked. One of Father's cows had died a short time before that and on the way to the new house we stopped at the side of a high bank to see the dead cow's body, as children will. It was a strange new thing to me.

Our new home was a painted house. I had never seen anything like it before. When we got there the doors were locked. We tried to open them but could not. We kicked against the door to get it open. The paint was not entirely dry, and by kicking we marred it and were thoroughly 'licked' when mother came and saw what we had done.

School in those days did not amount to very much. If you went into one of those schools now you would never realize that a school was going on it was so different. School only kept a few months in the year and the only studies were reading, writing, arithmetic, geography and grammar. In those days a child was sent to school principally 'to learn his letters'. My first teacher was Nathan Hull, the second one Mariam Johnson, the third one was Mrs. George Colbert, the fourth Nancy Gray, and the fifth and last was W. R. Bishop. The school term lasted only three or four months, and often we did not get to go all of that time.

I was at the reunion of the Brush Creek School only last week. This is a reunion of the scholars who studied under W. R. Bishop. The only ones who remain now are John Glass and Charles Bishop. (That is, of those who attended school with her. L.H.) Clara Bishop was also there, but she was only a tiny baby when I went to school. Look at Clara Bishop (Mrs. Clara Star), you just see her mother. (Meaning that she so exactly resembles her mother.)

At school we played just the usual games:-Town ball, black-man, pussy-wants-a-corner and anty-over. For recreation outside of school days we had spelling bees and singing classes. My singing teachers were Cyrus Vawter and W. R. Bishop. The worst thing that parents had to stand in those days was the getting together to tell ghost stories.

There was no idleness among the children outside of school terms. They were always kept busy sewing, knitting, carding wool, churning butter, milking cows or drying fruit.

Going back to school days, I will say that Nancy Gray taught a "laughing" school. She had no discipline. The children were always laughing and giggling all the time. Mrs. George Colbert:- (Her husband's name was George Fletcher Colbert, but everyone called him Fletcher in those days) was married at the end of a school year at the Brownsville schools. There was a double wedding and George Colbert and Edna Whipple were married in a double ceremony with Z.F. Moody and a young girl named Stevens (the other contracting parties.) The Stevens girl was one of Edna Whipple's pupils.

(This is contrary to the usual version which says that Miss Whipple and Miss Stevens were fellow teachers. L. Haskins) I know that these facts are true because my older sister was a schoolmate of the Stevens girl under the teaching of Edna Whipple. They were married at a school fair or exhibition in Brownsville. Mr. Moody was later Governor of Oregon.

The Colberts were our nearest neighbors when I was small. Other neighbors were Wm. McHargue, Asa Hull (A brother of my first teacher) the Glass family, Riggs Family and Robnett family.

In those days children were dressed in Merino or Alpaca for best, or calico for every day. I often wore denim than. I did not see much of the outside country when I was a girl. My mother always kept me very close at home.

She used to way that "I was such a dirty child that it was too much work to clean me up and take me out."In those days children wore hats, older women sunbonnets, and very elderly women little black bonnets when abroad and white caps at home. Women rode much, always on sidesaddles. They wore very long flowing riding skirts and you can imagine how they looked after riding for miles over roads that were knee deep with mud. Hoop skirts were very fashionable and a really good skirt required six breadths of cloth to make it. We never wore homespun clothing, except stockings. My mother was too busy caring for her home and cooking for the mill men to take time to weave.

Besides owning the flour mill on the Calapooia my father owned a half interest in a sawmill where the present dance hall now stands. (In Crawfordsville Roundup Grounds.) Besides that he had a partnership in the old Boston Mill, near the present town of Shedd. Mother cooked for all of the mill hands as well as for the big crew of men when they were getting out the timbers for the Boston Mill. The getting out of the timbers was a task that had to be done twice, for the first mill burned soon after it was completed.

The reason why we moved away from the cabin at the mill and went up near the hill was because mother did not wish to raise her houseful of girls among a lot of California miners. The miners came in bunches of fifteen to twenty to get flour and would wait about until it was ground. For this reason mother insisted on moving further away. The new house was near the site of the present cemetery.

The very first feast day which I remember was when Mother made the apple cobbler for Christmas. That was the first Christmas holiday after they had cultivated fruit of their own. It was very wonderful. We children all stood about and ate the apple peelings. We never knew of a gift at Christmas. It was just who could say "Christmas gift" first.

My father completed his mill on the Calapooia and ground the first flour on the forenoon of one day and in the afternoon he got on a horse and rode away to the California mines. He had become so much in debt in building the mill that he wished to find a quick way to repay what he owed. He would send gold dust back from the mines and my mother would notify everyone whom they were owing to come in and get a share. She made this a fixed rule because the gold was wasted so badly if she kept it long. Every person who came to the mill wished to see some California gold, and by turning it out into the palm of their hands and then pouring it back into the pouch, much of it was lost.

My father stayed at the mines only long enough to pay his debts. Then he returned to Oregon City by boat. When he got to Oregon City he became sick. He had two congestive chills. The third chill was always fatal, it was believed. Father had the third chill but did not die. When mother heard that my father was sick at Oregon City she went to a neighbor's house and got a pony. She and the neighbor then started out for the lower Willamette.

They traveled by the 'ride and tie' method. Oregon City was then on the west side of the river. There was a big hotel with wide porches facing the river and on the porch mother saw my father sitting. He arose and went inside. She could tell him by his manner of walking, for he was always very lame. She knew then that he had recovered. It was a great relief after the hard trip and the suspense of thinking that she would find him dead. Father had a very peculiar limp. It was easy to know him from a long distance. His lameness came from having his leg broken twice in the lead mines in Wisconsin. He was a very young man, about 21 years old, when he was injured.

At one time my sister Lizzie was staying at a neighbors and going to school. (At the home of Si Barr). One wild stormy night a great flock of wild geese flew over very low, confused by the storm. Flocks of geese were sometimes immense in those days. The noisy geese, flying so low scared some horses, which came rushing up about the house. There was a woman staying at the place who was very nervous and excitable. (She was Tennessee Lewis, the mother of John Lewis who was for many years County Treasurer of Multnomah County.) Hearing the horses about the house she became greatly frightened and cried out:- "Indians! Indians! Indians!" Her panic was contagious and everyone in the house ran out and hid in the brush. They stayed out all through a long night of heavy rain.

During the time of the Civil War there were many "Rallies" at Brownsville, with "speaking" a nd a band. The girls would dress in red, white and blue, and march. There were many hot political talks, and orations on war subjects. My father was a Democrat, but not a southern sympathizer.

My husband's name was Thomas Brandon. He was a brother of Alex Brandon, one of father's milling partners. I am almost ashamed to tell you when I was married, I was so young. I was married in October 1865. (15 years old). We moved into a house on the present Hughes place between Brownsville and Crawfordsville. It was then the David Templeton place. Our living at first was very scant. To begin with we had what might be called a 'good camp outfit'. The house in which we lived was very open and shabby. The wood rats came in at will and took dried fruit, knives and forks-everything.

Later we found much of it hidden away in the attic and salvaged it. The wood rats were very noisy, and always thumping and scratching about in the walls. After we left that house the same Tennessee Lewis previously spoken of lived there also. The noises which the wood rats made frightened her, and she would call the neighbors in to listen to the "spooks".

Of my five children, the oldest, Alec Brandon was born at the David Templeton place. He died at the age of 33. My oldest daughter, Viola Brandon Sutton, and my second daughter, Amanda Brandon Osborn were born on the Brandon farm near Halsey, likewise my two youngest sons, Mark David who died in 1934, and Hugh, who is a Druggist at Portland. My husband was always a farmer and a Granger. At the time of his death in 1909 he was a member of the State Legislature.

My mother died in 1866, only a few months after I was married. My father died in 1892.

In conclusion: Mrs. Brandon gave a few other scattering bits of data: "I never saw the Spaulding Schoolhouse near Brownsville, though my older sister went to school there. I doubt whether there is any person living who has seen, or can describe it."

We had only a few months of Sunday School each year. At Sunday School we sang religious songs, and during the war many patriotic songs. We sang many popular war songs at singing school.

The district school terms were very short, often only two or three months. Frequently we could not attend even these short sessions. During the flood of 1861-62 all of the bridges were washed out, and we were entirely cut off from school. After a while the men felled a tree across the river and we went to school over that.

I never went away from home much when I was small. I remember very few trips with ox team. One time I sent with my father and mother to Brownsville. I was about eight years old at the time. I remember it very well. There was an old German at Brownsville who had a cabinet and furniture shop. My mother went down to see him and bought five bedsteads.

She was very proud of them, but on the way home, at the old Templeton Ford (Near the present Lou Tycer place), my father drove under the limbs of a tree and the knobs were broken off from two of the bedsteads. My mother felt very bad. My grandfather Kirk left some property in Brownsville. My Mother always said that if she ever got the money from her share of it she would buy herself some nice furniture. She died before she could ever realize her hope. When the Kirk estate was settled, I received a few dollars for my share. I did just what my mother had wished to do."(Here Mrs. Brandon showed the writer a bureau and a small stand which she had purchased with her share of the Alexander Kirk estate.) Mrs. Brandon, in spite of her almost 88 years is active and alert. She lives alone and attends to all her own work and business. Her neighbors account her as an unusually shrewd and capable businesswoman. Her home is in Halsey, Oregon, just to the south of the High School Building. When interviewed she was in her yard clipping and trimming a young fir tree.

Her attitude towards life is that of a devout and spiritual Christian. She is eminently progressive in all her outlook. Her attitude towards her own past is that of a shrewd and observant onlooker, rather impersonal. It is as though she has seen these things happen to some other person. She looks toward the future for still greater progress. Though she realizes that she is old and her years likely to be few she still sees an active future before her. Heaven to her is not a place of rest, but a place of active work and progress. She doesn't feel like resting; she wants to step right out and begin her new job in the other world.

Copyright © 2000 Patricia Dunn. All rights reserved. This transcription may not be reproduced in any media without the express written permission by the author. Permission has been given by the Transcriber to publish on the LGS web site.