Youthful misunderstanding and misplaced pride caused a lifetime of regret for a man who had the chance to make the final years of Chief Joseph’s life happier. His descendants rectified the error after his death in an attempt to bring together two cultures historically at odds.
It began in 1877, when Chief Joseph and his band of Nez Perce had led the U.S. Army a merry chase to within 30 miles of the U.S./Canada border, where the tribe was attempting to find sanctuary from a government determined to sequester the Nez Perce to a reservation in Oklahoma, far from their ancient homeland in the Wallowa Valley in northeast Oregon. The battered tribal band finally surrendered with Chief Joseph’s vow to “fight no more forever.”
An aide de camp to the general who finally stopped Chief Joseph’s flight, Charles Erskine Scott Wood, kept a diary throughout the running battle, and came to respect the Nez Perce chief. Wood’s efforts helped bring Chief Joseph and other Nez Perce tribal members back to the Pacific Northwest, though not to their original lands. The two men struck up a friendship and, in 1889, Wood asked if his son Erskine could spend a summer on the reservation near Nespelem, Wash. Erskine was taken in to Joseph’s own teepee, and given the Indian name Yellow Porcupine.
In 1893, at the age of 14, Erskine Wood returned to the reservation for a second summer. His father, wanting to thank the chief for his generosity, directed Erskine to ask the chief if there was anything he could do to repay him. When Joseph said he wanted a stallion, Erskine was stunned.
“I looked on Joseph as such a great man,” Erskine wrote in his diary. “... I revered him so that I though his request for a stallion was too puny — was beneath him. I thought he ought to ask if my father could do anything to repair the great wrongs done him, perhaps get him back a portion of his Wallowa Valley or something like that. ...”
The request went unanswered, and the next year Erskine went off to school, and the stallion was forgotten. Then Chief Joseph died, and Erskine was consumed by guilt. “A fine stallion which would have upbred Joseph’s herd of ponies would have been a wonderful thing for him,” he wrote. “But just because I exalted him so high, I deprived him of it. ...”
When Ken Burns’ 1996 documentary “The West” ended with Wood’s story of a promise unfulfilled, the Wood family was galvanized into action. Erskine Wood Jr.’s daughter Mary met with representatives of the Nez Perce tribe, and Keith Soy Red Thunder, Chief Joseph’s great-great-grandson, was selected to receive the gift that had been promised, but never given, on behalf of his tribe.
The three-year-old Appaloosa stallion was purchased from a Utah ranch after a nationwide search, financed by $22,000 in donations from the Wood family and their friends. On July 27, 1997, the Wood family and Nez Perce tribal members gathered at Wallowa Lake to commemorate the gift.
Tribal member Lucinda Pinkham, who lived near the Lapwai Nez Perce reservation in Idaho, said she hoped the gift would bring members from the three Nez Perce reservations together as one people. Bobbi Conners, a Nez Perce living on the Umatilla Indian Reservation near Pendleton, echoed her statement. “We’ve had enough that has caused us to be divided,” Conners said.
Red Thunder told those gathered that the horse signified more than just a promise fulfilled, but a way to unite “white man and red man.”
“We need occasions like this to bring our people together,” he said.
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Kidnapper snatches M-F girl from local pool
A five-year-old girl swimming at the community pool in Milton-Freewater was kidnapped in July 1985 by an ex-con and transported to Utah, where she was abandoned in a city park playground the following day.
Amanda Sargent was swimming with her older sisters at the pool in Yantis Park in downtown Milton-Freewater on July 9, 1985. She was last seen around 3 p.m. talking to an older man, who was reported to be driving a 1960s green Chrysler 2-door car. The girl’s parents, Harvey and Phyllis Sargent, and the Milton-Freewater police had no leads in her disappearance.
The following day, Amanda approached a truck driver at a Salt Lake City park saying she had been kidnapped. She told police officers that her abductor dropped her at the park and told her to play while he went to get hamburgers. He never returned. She was placed in foster care until her parents could fly to Utah to pick her up.
Phyllis Sargent said her daughter had been taught how to deal with strangers. “We’ve taught her not to be rude, but cautious, too,” Phyllis said. But Amanda was lured away by her weakness: chocolate ice cream.
Through the description of a witness and a license plate number, Milton-Freewater police were able to identify Patrick Thomas Redmond, 51, who had stayed at a local motel the night before the kidnapping. Redmond had been released from the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla the previous October after serving time for robbery, and had been wanted on probation violations since February. His home address was located in Ogden, Utah.
FBI agents arrested Redmond on a federal fugitive warrant July 11 at his home, and his wife Ruth was arrested on suspicion of police interference. She was later released on her own recognizance, but Redmond was booked into the Weber County Jail on a kidnapping charge, a federal offense.
During Redmond’s trial, jurors learned that Amanda had also been molested during the kidnapping, and were further outraged by his defense lawyer’s attempts to intimidate the girl on the witness stand. The jury returned a guilty verdict after just 40 minutes’ deliberation, and Redmond was sentenced to life in federal prison.
Amanda Sargent was swimming with her older sisters at the pool in Yantis Park in downtown Milton-Freewater on July 9, 1985. She was last seen around 3 p.m. talking to an older man, who was reported to be driving a 1960s green Chrysler 2-door car. The girl’s parents, Harvey and Phyllis Sargent, and the Milton-Freewater police had no leads in her disappearance.
The following day, Amanda approached a truck driver at a Salt Lake City park saying she had been kidnapped. She told police officers that her abductor dropped her at the park and told her to play while he went to get hamburgers. He never returned. She was placed in foster care until her parents could fly to Utah to pick her up.
Phyllis Sargent said her daughter had been taught how to deal with strangers. “We’ve taught her not to be rude, but cautious, too,” Phyllis said. But Amanda was lured away by her weakness: chocolate ice cream.
Through the description of a witness and a license plate number, Milton-Freewater police were able to identify Patrick Thomas Redmond, 51, who had stayed at a local motel the night before the kidnapping. Redmond had been released from the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla the previous October after serving time for robbery, and had been wanted on probation violations since February. His home address was located in Ogden, Utah.
FBI agents arrested Redmond on a federal fugitive warrant July 11 at his home, and his wife Ruth was arrested on suspicion of police interference. She was later released on her own recognizance, but Redmond was booked into the Weber County Jail on a kidnapping charge, a federal offense.
During Redmond’s trial, jurors learned that Amanda had also been molested during the kidnapping, and were further outraged by his defense lawyer’s attempts to intimidate the girl on the witness stand. The jury returned a guilty verdict after just 40 minutes’ deliberation, and Redmond was sentenced to life in federal prison.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Hermiston fisherman lands bonus catch
A Hermiston confectionary store owner and sporting goods dealer reeled in a much larger prize than he was expecting on a fishing trip to Cold Springs Reservoir outside Hermiston in August of 1919.
Henry Hitt was relaxing while fishing for bass on a sunny afternoon on Aug. 19, 1919, trailing a hook baited with a tempting-looking minnow across the wind-blown waves and into the weeds at the shore. One particularly long cast sent his lure out of eyesight, and just as it disappeared Hitt felt a tugging on his line.
Hitt set the hook, assuming the battle was on. But Hitt’s line did not immediately dash for deeper water, and he began to think he had perhaps caught something not of the fishy persuasion — perhaps a mink, like fellow fisherman Bill Matthews, or a water snake like the one towed in by John Dunning.
As he pulled his line in slowly, Hitt was surprised to see a pelican stroll from behind the bushes, attempting as it walked toward him to eat the minnow without also swallowing the line and the hook.
Hitt captured the bird and removed the hook, then packed his peculiar catch up and took it home. The pelican made itself at home around Hermiston for a time, and Hitt later returned it to its home at the reservoir.
Henry Hitt was relaxing while fishing for bass on a sunny afternoon on Aug. 19, 1919, trailing a hook baited with a tempting-looking minnow across the wind-blown waves and into the weeds at the shore. One particularly long cast sent his lure out of eyesight, and just as it disappeared Hitt felt a tugging on his line.
Hitt set the hook, assuming the battle was on. But Hitt’s line did not immediately dash for deeper water, and he began to think he had perhaps caught something not of the fishy persuasion — perhaps a mink, like fellow fisherman Bill Matthews, or a water snake like the one towed in by John Dunning.
As he pulled his line in slowly, Hitt was surprised to see a pelican stroll from behind the bushes, attempting as it walked toward him to eat the minnow without also swallowing the line and the hook.
Hitt captured the bird and removed the hook, then packed his peculiar catch up and took it home. The pelican made itself at home around Hermiston for a time, and Hitt later returned it to its home at the reservoir.
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
Blacksmith’s spark ignites powder cache
An explosion ripped through a blacksmith’s shop west of Pendleton on July 16, 1907, leaving two brothers badly burned and the shop incinerated.
Brothers Leon and Ed Kidder, ages 19 and 21, were working on a threshing machine in the blacksmith shop on the family farm three miles west of Pendleton along the Umatilla River in preparation for wheat harvest. A spark from the anvil off a red-hot piece of metal fell on a 50-pound can of black powder that had been stored in the shop by another Kidder brother, setting off a horrific explosion.
Leon, the youngest of the brothers, was terribly burned from the waist up and his clothing was burned completely off his body. His injuries were thought to be potentially fatal. Ed, who was further away from the powder cache when it exploded, was also badly scorched on his face and hands, but was expected to survive the blast.
The explosion obliterated the interior of the shop and set the building on fire. A Greek section crew from the O.R. & N railroad working nearby put out the fire while one of their members rode a handcar into town to summon the doctor.
Leon was taken to St. Anthony Hospital in Pendleton in serious condition, where the burned skin was removed from his upper body and arms. Unable to lie down because of the extent of his injuries, he was forced to sleep sitting in a chair. Two months later, Leon returned home from the hospital to recover from his burns. His arms were still disabled, but doctors thought his injuries would not be permanent.
Older brother Ed’s burns were not considered serious, and he was ready to begin threshing wheat six days after the blast, on the machine whose repair sparked the explosion.
Brothers Leon and Ed Kidder, ages 19 and 21, were working on a threshing machine in the blacksmith shop on the family farm three miles west of Pendleton along the Umatilla River in preparation for wheat harvest. A spark from the anvil off a red-hot piece of metal fell on a 50-pound can of black powder that had been stored in the shop by another Kidder brother, setting off a horrific explosion.
Leon, the youngest of the brothers, was terribly burned from the waist up and his clothing was burned completely off his body. His injuries were thought to be potentially fatal. Ed, who was further away from the powder cache when it exploded, was also badly scorched on his face and hands, but was expected to survive the blast.
The explosion obliterated the interior of the shop and set the building on fire. A Greek section crew from the O.R. & N railroad working nearby put out the fire while one of their members rode a handcar into town to summon the doctor.
Leon was taken to St. Anthony Hospital in Pendleton in serious condition, where the burned skin was removed from his upper body and arms. Unable to lie down because of the extent of his injuries, he was forced to sleep sitting in a chair. Two months later, Leon returned home from the hospital to recover from his burns. His arms were still disabled, but doctors thought his injuries would not be permanent.
Older brother Ed’s burns were not considered serious, and he was ready to begin threshing wheat six days after the blast, on the machine whose repair sparked the explosion.
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