An East Oregonian employee walking through Pendleton in December of 1898 was accosted by three “holdup” men employing a very different kind of weapon.
W.L. Shiverick, the secretary and treasurer of the Pendleton newspaper, was walking down Webb Street (Southeast Emigrant Avenue) toward the newspaper office, then located on the corner of Webb and Main streets, around 7 p.m. on Dec. 8, 1898. At a point halfway between the Pendleton Woolen Mills and the Robert Forster planing mill and sash factory, Shiverick noticed three burly men in a farm wagon “pulled by two fleet footed plow horses ... dashing up Webb street at a rate not less than four miles an hour.”
As the wagon pulled alongside Shiverick, one of the “highwaymen” fell out of the wagon, grasping at his pistol pocket as he hit the ground. He advanced on his nervous target and uttered a blood-curdling challenge: “Who (hic) goes there?”
Shiverick recognized the man as someone who was behind on his newspaper subscription payment, and blustered, “I’ve a bill against you, sir, for $4.80 for the weekly.”
His challenge silenced the man for a time, but then, recovering his courage, the would-be holdup man continued his attack. “Zhat don’t make (hic) any (hic) differensh. You got (hic) to take a drink.” Drawing the pistol from his pocket, he shoved it into Shiverick’s face with a command to drink. The pistol was loaded to the muzzle with cream whiskey.
To save his skin, Shiverick complied with the demand, and the “highwaymen” continued on their way. The EO employee then hunted up a policeman and related his harrowing tale.
Law enforcement immediately began a search for the trio, having no clues to their identities except their full names, addresses, physical and mental condition at the time of the attack, and their current whereabouts.
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Body found in Columbia defies identification
Two Eastern Oregon men stopping at the Columbia River near Wallula in November 1923 to refill the radiator of their car discovered a skeleton with a fractured skull in the river, weighted down with rocks.
Clarence A. Gibbs and John Fehlen found the skeleton Nov. 4, 1923, in a back eddy about 15 miles east of Umatilla, between a rock and an old log that was partially buried in the sand. Rocks were piled on the body, and the action of the water had worn away most of the flesh. Even the clothing was mostly gone. A fracture on the left side of the skull, a broken jaw and several missing teeth pointed to death by violent means.
Umatilla County Sheriff Zoeth Houser and county coroner J.T. Brown recovered the remains and what was left of the clothing. The body had been dressed in men’s outer clothing, including a mackinaw, blue vest and overalls, but the undergarments found led them to believe the deceased was a woman. The coroner determined the body had been in the water at least six months, and possibly as many as 10.
The Umatilla County district attorney received information that a man and a woman appeared in May 1923 at a house near where the body was found and asked for food. A hobo camp had existed a short distance up the river from the crime scene at the time the couple was seen in the area.
A Baker-area couple, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Rogers, heard about the discovery and thought maybe it was their daughter, Edna Pitman, whom they had not heard from in months. Edna and her husband, Elgin Pitman, had lived near Echo for a time before disappearing. The Rogerses gave the coroner some identifying characteristics to look for on the skeleton, including curved finger and toe bones, a nicked tooth and a scar on the shin bone from an accident with an axe, all of which were confirmed by the coroner upon examination of the skeletal remains.
Edna’s parents said they did not like their son-in-law, and rumors were that he bragged about reuniting with her after a short separation so that he could kill her. Law enforcement immediately began a search for Elgin Pitman.
Meanwhile, on Nov. 19, the sheriff’s office received information about another possible identity for the body: Josephine Covak, who had gone missing April 6 from her home in Portland. An O.-W. R & N. railroad employee identified Covak from a photo as the woman he saw in the company of a man along the railroad tracks near the crime scene in April or May of that year. The man was later seen alone along the same stretch of tracks, and was warned off by railroad employees.
On December 10, Umatilla County deputy sheriff T.B. Buffington received information that Edna Pitman had been found alive and well in Los Angeles. Photos of Edna and Elgin Pitman were sent to the sheriff’s office, and former neighbors of the Pitmans in Echo positively identified the couple. The Pitmans had moved from Echo to Burley, Idaho, and from there to Flagstaff, Arizona, before settling in Los Angeles, and were the parents of a baby girl.
The photos of the Pitmans were mailed to Edna’s parents as proof their daughter was still alive. The remains, still unidentified, were ordered interred by the coroner.
Clarence A. Gibbs and John Fehlen found the skeleton Nov. 4, 1923, in a back eddy about 15 miles east of Umatilla, between a rock and an old log that was partially buried in the sand. Rocks were piled on the body, and the action of the water had worn away most of the flesh. Even the clothing was mostly gone. A fracture on the left side of the skull, a broken jaw and several missing teeth pointed to death by violent means.
Umatilla County Sheriff Zoeth Houser and county coroner J.T. Brown recovered the remains and what was left of the clothing. The body had been dressed in men’s outer clothing, including a mackinaw, blue vest and overalls, but the undergarments found led them to believe the deceased was a woman. The coroner determined the body had been in the water at least six months, and possibly as many as 10.
The Umatilla County district attorney received information that a man and a woman appeared in May 1923 at a house near where the body was found and asked for food. A hobo camp had existed a short distance up the river from the crime scene at the time the couple was seen in the area.
A Baker-area couple, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Rogers, heard about the discovery and thought maybe it was their daughter, Edna Pitman, whom they had not heard from in months. Edna and her husband, Elgin Pitman, had lived near Echo for a time before disappearing. The Rogerses gave the coroner some identifying characteristics to look for on the skeleton, including curved finger and toe bones, a nicked tooth and a scar on the shin bone from an accident with an axe, all of which were confirmed by the coroner upon examination of the skeletal remains.
Edna’s parents said they did not like their son-in-law, and rumors were that he bragged about reuniting with her after a short separation so that he could kill her. Law enforcement immediately began a search for Elgin Pitman.
Meanwhile, on Nov. 19, the sheriff’s office received information about another possible identity for the body: Josephine Covak, who had gone missing April 6 from her home in Portland. An O.-W. R & N. railroad employee identified Covak from a photo as the woman he saw in the company of a man along the railroad tracks near the crime scene in April or May of that year. The man was later seen alone along the same stretch of tracks, and was warned off by railroad employees.
On December 10, Umatilla County deputy sheriff T.B. Buffington received information that Edna Pitman had been found alive and well in Los Angeles. Photos of Edna and Elgin Pitman were sent to the sheriff’s office, and former neighbors of the Pitmans in Echo positively identified the couple. The Pitmans had moved from Echo to Burley, Idaho, and from there to Flagstaff, Arizona, before settling in Los Angeles, and were the parents of a baby girl.
The photos of the Pitmans were mailed to Edna’s parents as proof their daughter was still alive. The remains, still unidentified, were ordered interred by the coroner.
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
Civic-minded tot gathers cache of trash
Not everyone bemoaning the litter befouling the streets of Pendleton is a taxpaying grown-up. In 1969 an enterprising young man took the initiative to clean up one of Pendleton’s biggest tourist attractions — to the surprise of his father, who didn’t even know the boy was gone.
Blair Ranslam, a 3 1/2-year-old Pendleton boy, was spending Nov. 20, 1969, with his father Bob Ranslam, the manager of Pendleton Grain Growers’ feed and seed store on Southwest Dorion Avenue. Ducking his father’s watchful eye, Blair crossed busy Dorion and Court avenues and entered the Pendleton Round-Up Grounds, where he found a large plastic bag and filled it with trash.
Meanwhile, his father had finally noticed the boy was missing from the store, and Blair’s frantic parents began a search, then called the police. The boy was eventually found with his bag of litter and returned to PGG.
“The policeman came and said my daddy was looking for me,” Blair said, also remarking about the big bullets the officer carried.
“Lot of junk over there,” he said later.
When asked what he planned to do with the garbage he had collected, Blair said he planned to put it in a fireplace, but wasn’t sure where, since his family didn’t have one.
And where did the litter come from? “Some people came over there and throw it down. They should throw it in a garbage.”
Blair Ranslam, a 3 1/2-year-old Pendleton boy, was spending Nov. 20, 1969, with his father Bob Ranslam, the manager of Pendleton Grain Growers’ feed and seed store on Southwest Dorion Avenue. Ducking his father’s watchful eye, Blair crossed busy Dorion and Court avenues and entered the Pendleton Round-Up Grounds, where he found a large plastic bag and filled it with trash.
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| Young sanitation tech Blair Ranslam shows off his hard work after collecting trash at the Pendleton Round-Up Grounds Nov. 20, 1969 (EO file photo). |
“The policeman came and said my daddy was looking for me,” Blair said, also remarking about the big bullets the officer carried.
“Lot of junk over there,” he said later.
When asked what he planned to do with the garbage he had collected, Blair said he planned to put it in a fireplace, but wasn’t sure where, since his family didn’t have one.
And where did the litter come from? “Some people came over there and throw it down. They should throw it in a garbage.”
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
Self-inflicted gunshots just part of the job
On Nov. 20, 1929, Jim Letts borrowed a .41 caliber revolver from a deputy in the Umatilla County sheriff’s office in Pendleton and, in front of four women, the deputy and a reporter, shot himself in the side. Those in attendance laughed when Letts pulled the trigger.
After shooting himself, Letts coolly passed the gun back to the deputy, then took out his pocket knife and pried the bullet free. But there was no parlor trick involved — Letts, you see, was only giving his sales pitch. Shooting himself, sometimes multiple times a day, was how he made his living selling bullet-proof vests.
“I’ve shot myself more than 4,000 times in the past five years,” he bragged.”
The vest he wore for his demonstrations was made from laminated steel plates, and would stop everything from BBs to a .45 caliber bullet. Letts traveled throughout the country marketing his wares to law enforcement, and though heavy-caliber bullets dented the protective steel plates slightly, the vest could withstand multiple shots in the same spot.
“Of course the police and sheriff’s departments are my customers, so I always go to them to demonstrate,” Letts said.
Shooting himself caused a slight stinging sensation, he said, and there was the chance that an impact in the right spot could crack a rib, but in general he was fearless in demonstrating the stopping power of vest for all types of pistols.
Letts also carried gas bombs and other weaponry, “The proper equipment,” he said, “for a good lively defensive war.”
After shooting himself, Letts coolly passed the gun back to the deputy, then took out his pocket knife and pried the bullet free. But there was no parlor trick involved — Letts, you see, was only giving his sales pitch. Shooting himself, sometimes multiple times a day, was how he made his living selling bullet-proof vests.
“I’ve shot myself more than 4,000 times in the past five years,” he bragged.”
The vest he wore for his demonstrations was made from laminated steel plates, and would stop everything from BBs to a .45 caliber bullet. Letts traveled throughout the country marketing his wares to law enforcement, and though heavy-caliber bullets dented the protective steel plates slightly, the vest could withstand multiple shots in the same spot.
“Of course the police and sheriff’s departments are my customers, so I always go to them to demonstrate,” Letts said.
Shooting himself caused a slight stinging sensation, he said, and there was the chance that an impact in the right spot could crack a rib, but in general he was fearless in demonstrating the stopping power of vest for all types of pistols.
Letts also carried gas bombs and other weaponry, “The proper equipment,” he said, “for a good lively defensive war.”
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