Eastern Oregon was all a-twitter in July of 1914 when a gang of thieves held up the passengers and crew of the No. 5 passenger train between Kamela and Meacham. One of the robbers was killed and a deputy sheriff was wounded during the holdup, but no other injuries were reported and the loot was returned to the penny.
Three men boarded the train at Kamela around 1 a.m. July 2 and first rounded up the train crew, leaving them under guard by one of their number before the remaining robbers looted the express car. The men then proceeded to wake up the slumbering passengers, demanding money and valuables. Deputy Sheriff George McDuffee of Heppner was on the train, returning from testifying in a case in Canyon City. When he realized that a robbery was taking place, he waited until the two masked men passed him by and then leapt up and started shooting, hitting the leader and killing him. Another of the robbers returned fire, and McDuffee would have been killed had not a brass pencil case in his chest pocket deflected the bullet. As it was, the bullet grazed him and he ended up in the hospital for a week.
The second robber jumped out of the train and summoned his remaining accomplice, and the two took off for the timber. No. 5 continued on to Pendleton, where a pair of deputy sheriffs and Chief of Police John Kearney returned to the scene of the crime to begin a manhunt that eventually involved bloodhounds from the Walla Walla Penitentiary, special agents from the railroad and law enforcement officers from Pendleton to La Grande. A $1,000 reward was posted for each of the escaped fugitives.
The identity of the dead bandit was much in contention for days after the robbery. Originally he was identified as Hugh Whitney, a notorious bandit who had plagued Idaho, Montana and Wyoming for years with his brother. A Wyoming man eventually identified the dead man as Charley Manning, his brother-in-law and a friend of Whitney.
The two escaped robbers were caught at Hilgard three days later and brought to Pendleton, where they were lodged in the jail. Clarence Stoner and Albert Meadors willingly confessed to the entire robbery, and led law enforcement to several caches in the Blue Mountains where the loot from the robbery was stashed. Every item that was stolen during the hold-up was returned to its owner. During questioning Stoner claimed that they only joined with Manning for the robbery on the condition that no one would get shot.
It turns out the bandits thought they were holding up the fast mail train and not the passenger train; they were unaware that the westbound fast mail was only known as No. 5 until it reached Huntington, where it changed to the No. 9 train. The total take during the robbery was only about $1,500, and most of that was in vouchers and drafts that the robbers could not have redeemed themselves. The rest was jewelry and around $50 cash.
Passengers from the train inundated the sheriff’s office with claims for money they were relieved of during the robbery, but the claims far exceeded the actual cash recovered. There was also a squabble among the La Grande trackers who brought in the surviving bandits for the reward money.
Manning’s body was returned to his family in Wyoming; he left behind a wife and four children. Stoner and Meadors were held at the county jail until the grand jury convened in September, when they were sentenced to 13 years in the state penitentiary in Salem. “We have been treated mighty square ever since we were arrested both by the officers and newspapers and I want to say we appreciate it,” said Stoner as they departed on the No. 17 train in the custody of Sheriff Til Taylor.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Pennsylvania man claims world's longest surname
A June 24, 1964 Associated Press story introduced a man who claimed to have the longest last name in the United States — 666 letters, plus 26 given names. Hubert B. Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff, 47, a Philadelphia resident of German descent, used only the first 35 letters of his last name in signing documents. The computer of the John Hancock Mutual Life Insurance Co., which handled Hubert’s life insurance policy, could only handle up to 35 letters. And his Social Security card carried the “shortened” version of his surname as well.
In an interview, Hubert said the Army used a clipped and Anglicized version of his name when he was drafted in 1942, because they wouldn’t go for his full name.
Ready for it?
Adolph Blaine Charles David Earl Frederick Gerald Hubert Irvin John Kenneth Lloyd Martin Nero Oliver Paul Quincy Randolph Sherman Thomas Uncas Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorffvoralternwarengewissenhaftschaferswessen-schafewarenwohlgepflegeundsorgfaltigkeitbeschutzenvonangreifendurchihrraubgierigfeindewelychevoralternzwolftausendjahresvorandieerscheinenwanderersteerdemenschderrassumschiffgebrauchlichtalsseinursprungvonkraftgestartseinlangefahrthinzwischensternartigraumaufdersuchenachdiesternwelchegehabtbewohnbarplanetenkreisedrehensichundwohinderneurassevonverstandigmenschlichkeitkonntefortplanzenundsicherfreuenanlebenslanglichfreudeundruhemitnichteinfurchtvorangreifenvonandererintelligentgeschopfsvonhinzwischensternartigraum, Senior. Eventually he shortened his name to Hubert Blaine Wolf+585, Sr. He was married with two sons, Hubert etc. etc. Junior and Timothy Wayne etc. etc.
So what does it mean? Hubert gave the following loose translation:
“It tells a story of a wolf-killer, a resident of a stonehouse in a village, whose ancestors were conscientious shepherds whose sheep were well fed and carefully guarded against attack by ferocious enemies and whose ancestors 1,200,000 years before the first earth man, in a space ship made with tungsten and seven iridium motors and using light as a source of power, started a long journey across interstellar space, searching for a star around which was an inhabitable planet where they could establish a new race of intelligent mankind and where they would live long, happy lives and be free from attack by other intelligentsia from the outer space from whence they came.”
Hubert was listed in the “Guinness Book of World Records” from 1975 to 1985 as having the longest personal name; the category disappeared in the late 1980s. Hubert died in 1985.
In an interview, Hubert said the Army used a clipped and Anglicized version of his name when he was drafted in 1942, because they wouldn’t go for his full name.
Ready for it?
Adolph Blaine Charles David Earl Frederick Gerald Hubert Irvin John Kenneth Lloyd Martin Nero Oliver Paul Quincy Randolph Sherman Thomas Uncas Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorffvoralternwarengewissenhaftschaferswessen-schafewarenwohlgepflegeundsorgfaltigkeitbeschutzenvonangreifendurchihrraubgierigfeindewelychevoralternzwolftausendjahresvorandieerscheinenwanderersteerdemenschderrassumschiffgebrauchlichtalsseinursprungvonkraftgestartseinlangefahrthinzwischensternartigraumaufdersuchenachdiesternwelchegehabtbewohnbarplanetenkreisedrehensichundwohinderneurassevonverstandigmenschlichkeitkonntefortplanzenundsicherfreuenanlebenslanglichfreudeundruhemitnichteinfurchtvorangreifenvonandererintelligentgeschopfsvonhinzwischensternartigraum, Senior. Eventually he shortened his name to Hubert Blaine Wolf+585, Sr. He was married with two sons, Hubert etc. etc. Junior and Timothy Wayne etc. etc.
So what does it mean? Hubert gave the following loose translation:
“It tells a story of a wolf-killer, a resident of a stonehouse in a village, whose ancestors were conscientious shepherds whose sheep were well fed and carefully guarded against attack by ferocious enemies and whose ancestors 1,200,000 years before the first earth man, in a space ship made with tungsten and seven iridium motors and using light as a source of power, started a long journey across interstellar space, searching for a star around which was an inhabitable planet where they could establish a new race of intelligent mankind and where they would live long, happy lives and be free from attack by other intelligentsia from the outer space from whence they came.”
Hubert was listed in the “Guinness Book of World Records” from 1975 to 1985 as having the longest personal name; the category disappeared in the late 1980s. Hubert died in 1985.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Animals can be alcoholics, too
Think we humans have cornered the market on addictive behaviors? A story from the Chicago Chronicle, reprinted in the Sept. 3, 1902, East Oregonian, shows that animals that have a chance to imbibe can develop drinking problems, too.
The first story was about a St. Bernard from Chicago that had developed a taste for beer, so much so that he shamelessly begged and bullied visitors to his master’s stable for nickels when he thought it had been too long between drinks. In securing his money, the dog would take it to his favorite drinking establishment, put his paws and payment on the bar and receive a small tub of beer. If the client he decided would provide the money for his next drink refused to cough up, the dog proceeded from begging to barking, growling and head-butting the unfortunate person until he got his nickel. And he was smart enough to know the difference between a penny and a nickel, though he didn’t apparently make the connection between a dime and two tubs of brew. But with a large number of patrons from whom to secure his fix, he didn’t really need higher math skills.
The second animal drunk was a horse in the suburbs of New York that was owned by a contractor. When the horse was temporarily lamed it was allowed to wander around the stable yard while it healed. Next door to the stable was a drinking establishment, and one day the horse stuck its head in the window to see what was happening. The barkeeper at that moment had a tub of drippings from a keg that he was about to throw away, but instead shoved it under the horse’s nose and watched the beer disappear. From that day on, the horse would present itself three times a day at the window for his allotment, and the horse’s master settled the bill once a week.
The last animal with a taste for beer was a white and gray rabbit living in an “otherwise respectable” home. The matron of the family, who had complained of weakness, was instructed by her doctor to drink a bottle of beer each night before going to bed. One evening the rabbit jumped into her lap while she was taking her tonic and was allowed to try a few drops. When the rabbit showed an unquestionable liking for the beer, it was given more and soon was entertaining the family by running around the house in a “most eccentric and ludicrous manner clearly and hilariously intoxicated.” The rabbit continued to get its share every night, and thrived on the addition to its regular meals. When the woman regained her strength and suspended the nightly practice, the rabbit also gave up its nightly drink, though apparently quite reluctantly.
The first story was about a St. Bernard from Chicago that had developed a taste for beer, so much so that he shamelessly begged and bullied visitors to his master’s stable for nickels when he thought it had been too long between drinks. In securing his money, the dog would take it to his favorite drinking establishment, put his paws and payment on the bar and receive a small tub of beer. If the client he decided would provide the money for his next drink refused to cough up, the dog proceeded from begging to barking, growling and head-butting the unfortunate person until he got his nickel. And he was smart enough to know the difference between a penny and a nickel, though he didn’t apparently make the connection between a dime and two tubs of brew. But with a large number of patrons from whom to secure his fix, he didn’t really need higher math skills.
The second animal drunk was a horse in the suburbs of New York that was owned by a contractor. When the horse was temporarily lamed it was allowed to wander around the stable yard while it healed. Next door to the stable was a drinking establishment, and one day the horse stuck its head in the window to see what was happening. The barkeeper at that moment had a tub of drippings from a keg that he was about to throw away, but instead shoved it under the horse’s nose and watched the beer disappear. From that day on, the horse would present itself three times a day at the window for his allotment, and the horse’s master settled the bill once a week.
The last animal with a taste for beer was a white and gray rabbit living in an “otherwise respectable” home. The matron of the family, who had complained of weakness, was instructed by her doctor to drink a bottle of beer each night before going to bed. One evening the rabbit jumped into her lap while she was taking her tonic and was allowed to try a few drops. When the rabbit showed an unquestionable liking for the beer, it was given more and soon was entertaining the family by running around the house in a “most eccentric and ludicrous manner clearly and hilariously intoxicated.” The rabbit continued to get its share every night, and thrived on the addition to its regular meals. When the woman regained her strength and suspended the nightly practice, the rabbit also gave up its nightly drink, though apparently quite reluctantly.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Women repair road, heckle men who won’t
In an April 21, 1967, Associated Press story, a group of angry women took the old adage “If you want something done right, do it yourself” to heart when a road through rural Digness, West Virginia, fell into sad disrepair and none of the “menfolk” seemed interested in fixing it.
The road winding along Twelve Pole Creek serviced 400-500 families, and had not been touched since it was paved in 1963. A team of women ranging in age from teens to sixties took up sledgehammers, shovels and wheelbarrows to fill potholes along the road, in some places so tattered that cars could move no faster than 10 miles an hour. In a week the women had repaired almost a mile of the asphalt roadway, but were looking at dozens of miles of back-breaking labor before they were finished.
But they were not only working to repair the road. They were also protesting the men who, the women said, were too lazy to do the work. At issue was the state welfare program offering $1 per hour to unemployed fathers to work on public projects, with some 700 local men receiving aid. “You can see them sitting up there on their porches, not doing anything and drawing that welfare pay. It’s getting to their morality,” one lady worker declared.
The women, who worked four hours a day in a team of 20, heckled men walking and driving along the road while they shoveled dirt, filled holes and wielded 12-pound sledgehammers to crush rock into gravel. But their attempts at shaming didn’t seem to make much difference. Some of the men interviewed contended they were working on other projects. And many of them also said the women should stay home and “mind the kitchen.”
The road winding along Twelve Pole Creek serviced 400-500 families, and had not been touched since it was paved in 1963. A team of women ranging in age from teens to sixties took up sledgehammers, shovels and wheelbarrows to fill potholes along the road, in some places so tattered that cars could move no faster than 10 miles an hour. In a week the women had repaired almost a mile of the asphalt roadway, but were looking at dozens of miles of back-breaking labor before they were finished.
But they were not only working to repair the road. They were also protesting the men who, the women said, were too lazy to do the work. At issue was the state welfare program offering $1 per hour to unemployed fathers to work on public projects, with some 700 local men receiving aid. “You can see them sitting up there on their porches, not doing anything and drawing that welfare pay. It’s getting to their morality,” one lady worker declared.
The women, who worked four hours a day in a team of 20, heckled men walking and driving along the road while they shoveled dirt, filled holes and wielded 12-pound sledgehammers to crush rock into gravel. But their attempts at shaming didn’t seem to make much difference. Some of the men interviewed contended they were working on other projects. And many of them also said the women should stay home and “mind the kitchen.”
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Coffee cup collection gives nostalgic twist to reopened cafe
What’s one thing truckers are known for? Drinking coffee. Gallons and gallons of coffee. They’re also quite loyal to the truck stops and cafes they patronize along their routes. One such cafe in Umatilla boasted what they thought was the largest collection of personalized coffee cups in the area, all displayed on shelves throughout the dining room.
The Coffee Cup Cafe was located on Highway 730, just west of Umatilla, at the time the May 6, 1981 story appeared in the East Oregonian. It had recently been reopened by Ellen Smith after sitting shuttered for three years when the old Husky truck stop cafe closed its doors. The coffee cups — more than 2,000 of them — had been boxed up and stored, but were slowly regaining their place of distinction.
“Miss Ellie” Armour, who worked as a cook at the old truck stop before it closed, said she had been visiting the cafe off and on for about 30 years and remembered truckers paying a dollar to have their names and the outfit they drove for put on a cup, which was shelved in a numbered spot. When the trucker would return to the cafe, he would give his number and a waitress would retrieve his cup. Some cups were stored upside down, in respect for a trucker “who will jam gears no more.”
Smith, former assistant manager of the King City Truck Stop outside of Pasco, Wash., said she thought opening her own truck stop would be “exciting and a challenge.” She hoped to bring the cafe back to its original truck stop glory, featuring home-cooked food and a place where truckers could stop in for a personalized cup of joe and old-fashioned hospitality.
The Coffee Cup Cafe was located on Highway 730, just west of Umatilla, at the time the May 6, 1981 story appeared in the East Oregonian. It had recently been reopened by Ellen Smith after sitting shuttered for three years when the old Husky truck stop cafe closed its doors. The coffee cups — more than 2,000 of them — had been boxed up and stored, but were slowly regaining their place of distinction.
“Miss Ellie” Armour, who worked as a cook at the old truck stop before it closed, said she had been visiting the cafe off and on for about 30 years and remembered truckers paying a dollar to have their names and the outfit they drove for put on a cup, which was shelved in a numbered spot. When the trucker would return to the cafe, he would give his number and a waitress would retrieve his cup. Some cups were stored upside down, in respect for a trucker “who will jam gears no more.”
Smith, former assistant manager of the King City Truck Stop outside of Pasco, Wash., said she thought opening her own truck stop would be “exciting and a challenge.” She hoped to bring the cafe back to its original truck stop glory, featuring home-cooked food and a place where truckers could stop in for a personalized cup of joe and old-fashioned hospitality.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Magazine solicitors too clever for own good
Magazine subscription salesmen are everywhere. Every summer, it seems, they’re knocking at our doors with tales of trips to be financed and school to be paid for. And if you think these gangs of 20-somethings canvassing our neighborhoods are a new thing, you’d be wrong. The May 9, 1930, East Oregonian carried a cautionary tale about reading everything carefully before you sign on the dotted line.
Nineteen men and women hit Pendleton to sell magazine subscriptions that week, with the usual sales pitches touting “working my way through school” and “earning money to pay for a trip to Europe.” The solicitation crew ran afoul of the law when the team tried to scam an Echo rancher, F.O. Wilson, who was accosted while trying to sell his cream at the Golden West Creamery.
Wilson declined to subscribe to any magazines, saying he only had time to read the daily paper. Then Dorothy Gordon and Pearl Miller asked him for his vote in a contest amongst the crew, and he agreed to sign two pieces of folded yellow paper with his name, mentioning he was from Echo.
The folded papers turned out to be blank check forms from a Walla Walla bank. The girls first attempted to pass the checks at a local bank after they had written in amounts and the name First National Bank of Echo, which they later learned did not exist. The girls then appeared at the Van Fleet Durkee Station with First National Bank of Pendleton check forms which had been crossed out and the Echo State bank written in, with Mr. Wilson’s signature reproduced at the bottom. The attendant of the filling station became suspicious and called the sheriff’s office, who arrested Dorothy Gordon later that day at the Pendleton Woolen Mills.
By that time Pearl Miller and others of the crew, including the manager, had made it to La Grande, where one of the fraudulent checks was cashed. The crew manager was returned to Pendleton after his arrest and returned the money from one of the forged checks. The case was handed to Deputy District Attorney Fred Schmidt for prosecution.
Nineteen men and women hit Pendleton to sell magazine subscriptions that week, with the usual sales pitches touting “working my way through school” and “earning money to pay for a trip to Europe.” The solicitation crew ran afoul of the law when the team tried to scam an Echo rancher, F.O. Wilson, who was accosted while trying to sell his cream at the Golden West Creamery.
Wilson declined to subscribe to any magazines, saying he only had time to read the daily paper. Then Dorothy Gordon and Pearl Miller asked him for his vote in a contest amongst the crew, and he agreed to sign two pieces of folded yellow paper with his name, mentioning he was from Echo.
The folded papers turned out to be blank check forms from a Walla Walla bank. The girls first attempted to pass the checks at a local bank after they had written in amounts and the name First National Bank of Echo, which they later learned did not exist. The girls then appeared at the Van Fleet Durkee Station with First National Bank of Pendleton check forms which had been crossed out and the Echo State bank written in, with Mr. Wilson’s signature reproduced at the bottom. The attendant of the filling station became suspicious and called the sheriff’s office, who arrested Dorothy Gordon later that day at the Pendleton Woolen Mills.
By that time Pearl Miller and others of the crew, including the manager, had made it to La Grande, where one of the fraudulent checks was cashed. The crew manager was returned to Pendleton after his arrest and returned the money from one of the forged checks. The case was handed to Deputy District Attorney Fred Schmidt for prosecution.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Corrective surgery gives teen new outlook
A La Grande girl who was born with rare facial birth defects got a new lease on life after corrective surgery in 1964, according to an Associated Press story that was printed in the July 21 East Oregonian. Fifteen-year-old Ida Hayes was born with her eyes twice as far apart as normal, a protruding jaw and a malformed nose. For years her parents were told there was no hope for corrective surgery, and Ida learned to live with her deformities, and become accepted and a leader in school and church activities.
But doctors didn’t give up on giving Ida a chance for a normal life. Eventually New York University Hospital agreed to do the surgery and a team of surgeons led by Dr. John Converse, the director of the Institute for Reconstructive Plastic Surgery, provided their expertise for no charge. The citizens of La Grande also emptied their pockets and poured out their support, raising more than $10,000 toward expenses for Ida and her family.
Dr. Converse said it was one of the most extensive cases of eye correction his team had ever undertaken. The procedure involved, among other things, lifting up and repositioning her brain, cutting out part of the center of her face and moving the orbits (the space in the skull where the eyes are positioned) closer together. Bone grafts from her hip were used to fill the spaces.
The surgical team’s biggest fear was the possibility that Ida’s optic nerves would be damaged, but doctors at the University of Oregon Health Sciences Center reported she had 20-30 vision in one eye and 20-40 vision in the other following the surgery — good enough to read and even drive a car.
Ida would have to undergo more surgery in the following years, but doctors reported she was able to use both eyes at the same time, and have depth perception, for the first time in her life.
But doctors didn’t give up on giving Ida a chance for a normal life. Eventually New York University Hospital agreed to do the surgery and a team of surgeons led by Dr. John Converse, the director of the Institute for Reconstructive Plastic Surgery, provided their expertise for no charge. The citizens of La Grande also emptied their pockets and poured out their support, raising more than $10,000 toward expenses for Ida and her family.
Dr. Converse said it was one of the most extensive cases of eye correction his team had ever undertaken. The procedure involved, among other things, lifting up and repositioning her brain, cutting out part of the center of her face and moving the orbits (the space in the skull where the eyes are positioned) closer together. Bone grafts from her hip were used to fill the spaces.
The surgical team’s biggest fear was the possibility that Ida’s optic nerves would be damaged, but doctors at the University of Oregon Health Sciences Center reported she had 20-30 vision in one eye and 20-40 vision in the other following the surgery — good enough to read and even drive a car.
Ida would have to undergo more surgery in the following years, but doctors reported she was able to use both eyes at the same time, and have depth perception, for the first time in her life.
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