A Bingham Springs man who broke his leg during a fishing expedition in February 1917 displayed nerves of steel and lusty lungs when he was forced to crawl for help through deep snow to find shelter and medical attention.
Lou Bulin set out on a quest for big trout Feb. 16, 1917, despite the five feet of snow on the ground in the Blue Mountains near his home at Bingham Springs. While trying to jump over the stream at about 3 p.m. he slipped, and when he fell he struck a rock so hard it broke two bones of one leg. Bulin was two miles from the springs and the nearest assistance, so he broke up his fishing pole for a splint and began crawling toward home.
Bulin made slow progress, having to pull himself around a bluff that overhung the river, and only through the desperate strength of his hands and one good leg did he manage to keep himself from falling into the water. After crawling about a mile and a quarter through heavy snow, Bulin was exhausted and suffering tremendously from the cold and the pain, and started calling for help.
Forest Ranger Baker, who lived in a cabin above the springs, and W.W. Hoch at the mountain resort both heard Bulin yelling, but ignored it at first because they thought it was a coyote yipping in the distance. When they finally decided they were hearing a human voice, both grabbed their guns, thinking Bulin had treed an animal. Baker found Bulin first, and left to secure a horse after Hoch arrived and built a fire for the half-frozen man. Baker and Hoch finally managed to get Bulin back to the springs by 9 p.m.
Dr. E.O. Parker of Pendleton was called, and traveled by freight train and horse to arrive at the springs around 1 a.m. Dr. Parker did what he could for Bulin, and transported him to St. Anthony Hospital in Pendleton the next day, where he spent several days recuperating from his ordeal.
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
Seniors shun transport for away game, walk instead
Five Pendleton High School students decided to forgo gas-powered transportation in February 1967 and instead make tracks for a basketball game in La Grande under their own power — on foot — in an attempt to drum up a good showing from the Pendleton community.
Seniors Dale Simpson, Dennis Vest, Alan Wilhelmsen, Mark McGee and Jim Lieuallen started out at 3 a.m. Feb. 10, 1967, on their way to a basketball game pitting the hometown Buckaroos against the La Grande Tigers, scheduled for 8 p.m. that evening. “It sure was cold until the sun came up,” one of the walkers said.
When asked if any of the quintet had done any training in preparation for their trek, Vest said no — “But I ran around the house last night.”
Two of the trekkers, Wilhelmsen and Vest, started out at a run but soon dropped back to a more reasonable pace. By 9:30 a.m. they were 26 miles into the 52-mile hike, and about a mile and a half ahead of McGee and Lieuallen; Simpson had wrenched his knee at Deadman Pass and dropped out at the 21-mile mark. He was picked up by the chase car driven by Steve Townsend and Don Paddock, who also carried fresh socks and the walkers’ lunch, which they planned to eat at Meacham.
Simpson rejoined the hike after a short rest and logged a total of 38 miles. Vest dropped out soon after he passed Meacham after only 35 miles. Lieuallen walked 43 miles, and Wilhelmsen a little more than 50 miles. McGee was the only one to make it the entire way.
Simpson said the walkers planned their trip carefully so they would arrive in plenty of time for the start of the basketball game, but at the end of the trek the boys were so tired they didn’t actually attend — they listened to the game on the car radio on the way home to Pendleton.
The following day, the hardy quintet vowed to make a second attempt to walk to an away basketball game, this time to Milton-Freewater. But Simpson said they would wait for their blisters to heal before making final plans.
Seniors Dale Simpson, Dennis Vest, Alan Wilhelmsen, Mark McGee and Jim Lieuallen started out at 3 a.m. Feb. 10, 1967, on their way to a basketball game pitting the hometown Buckaroos against the La Grande Tigers, scheduled for 8 p.m. that evening. “It sure was cold until the sun came up,” one of the walkers said.
When asked if any of the quintet had done any training in preparation for their trek, Vest said no — “But I ran around the house last night.”
Two of the trekkers, Wilhelmsen and Vest, started out at a run but soon dropped back to a more reasonable pace. By 9:30 a.m. they were 26 miles into the 52-mile hike, and about a mile and a half ahead of McGee and Lieuallen; Simpson had wrenched his knee at Deadman Pass and dropped out at the 21-mile mark. He was picked up by the chase car driven by Steve Townsend and Don Paddock, who also carried fresh socks and the walkers’ lunch, which they planned to eat at Meacham.
Simpson rejoined the hike after a short rest and logged a total of 38 miles. Vest dropped out soon after he passed Meacham after only 35 miles. Lieuallen walked 43 miles, and Wilhelmsen a little more than 50 miles. McGee was the only one to make it the entire way.
Simpson said the walkers planned their trip carefully so they would arrive in plenty of time for the start of the basketball game, but at the end of the trek the boys were so tired they didn’t actually attend — they listened to the game on the car radio on the way home to Pendleton.
The following day, the hardy quintet vowed to make a second attempt to walk to an away basketball game, this time to Milton-Freewater. But Simpson said they would wait for their blisters to heal before making final plans.
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
Mysterious blue light baffles locals
Snow plow drivers Manuel (Swede) Erickson and Barney Thompson didn’t know what to make of a strange blue light bobbing above Highway 204 over the Blue Mountains of northeast Oregon in January of 1955. Turns out they weren’t the only ones to report the phenomenon.
The first reports of the light came in mid-January from Erickson and Thompson, who were plowing snow between Weston and Elgin on Highway 204. Erickson said they saw a blue light bobbing over the highway and stopped the plow, dimming the headlights. The light seemed to be coming toward the plow, but stopped when they did. The light then started moving up, down and sideways, and after a moment moved upward and vanished over the trees to their left with an audible hum. The light reappeared in the sky to the right of the plow team, emitting a bluish glow with the occasional blue flash, then disappeared again. Erickson and Thompson said they came within 500 yards of the light before it vanished.
A week later, another late-night snowplow driver, Robert Backus, stopped to check one of his chains and notice he was casting a shadow. He looked up to see the blue light bobbing overhead, humming. Backus got back in the plow and started up again, and the light followed him for a short time before slowly moving down a canyon and disappearing. Others reported similar sightings, including two women who saw a blue light flashing on and off near McNary Dam.
Reporters for the La Grande Observer returned to the spot where Backus saw the light on Jan. 27, but all they saw was the morning star shining with spectacular brilliance and an eerie light. Backus and others with the reporters said the star was nothing like the mysterious blue light they saw.
Erickson thought maybe the light was a helicopter, but none were known to exist in the area. Backus, a veteran of both the Army and the Navy, said while the movement was similar, the hum was not.
Another man who saw a similar phenomenon 15 years earlier while hunting offered a possible explanation. Charles DeSpain of Riverside saw a blue light on the south side of Bridge Creek about 60 miles south of Pendleton and wrote a letter about it to the Atomic Energy Commission. The AEC suggested the light might be caused by a “jack o’lantern glow” from decomposing phosphorus deposits, or a magnetic phenomenon similar to the aurora borealis.
The first reports of the light came in mid-January from Erickson and Thompson, who were plowing snow between Weston and Elgin on Highway 204. Erickson said they saw a blue light bobbing over the highway and stopped the plow, dimming the headlights. The light seemed to be coming toward the plow, but stopped when they did. The light then started moving up, down and sideways, and after a moment moved upward and vanished over the trees to their left with an audible hum. The light reappeared in the sky to the right of the plow team, emitting a bluish glow with the occasional blue flash, then disappeared again. Erickson and Thompson said they came within 500 yards of the light before it vanished.
A week later, another late-night snowplow driver, Robert Backus, stopped to check one of his chains and notice he was casting a shadow. He looked up to see the blue light bobbing overhead, humming. Backus got back in the plow and started up again, and the light followed him for a short time before slowly moving down a canyon and disappearing. Others reported similar sightings, including two women who saw a blue light flashing on and off near McNary Dam.
Reporters for the La Grande Observer returned to the spot where Backus saw the light on Jan. 27, but all they saw was the morning star shining with spectacular brilliance and an eerie light. Backus and others with the reporters said the star was nothing like the mysterious blue light they saw.
Erickson thought maybe the light was a helicopter, but none were known to exist in the area. Backus, a veteran of both the Army and the Navy, said while the movement was similar, the hum was not.
Another man who saw a similar phenomenon 15 years earlier while hunting offered a possible explanation. Charles DeSpain of Riverside saw a blue light on the south side of Bridge Creek about 60 miles south of Pendleton and wrote a letter about it to the Atomic Energy Commission. The AEC suggested the light might be caused by a “jack o’lantern glow” from decomposing phosphorus deposits, or a magnetic phenomenon similar to the aurora borealis.
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Hermiston woman reunited with long-lost son
When Evelyn May’s family broke up in 1946 in Yakima, Wash., she wasn’t sure she’d ever see her 3-year-old son Tommy Anthony DeRosa again. In 1982, after a series of phone calls and with the help of state police agencies on opposite coasts, May was reunited with Tommy when he traveled from his home in New York to Hermiston to meet her, as well as five siblings and their families.
May’s other children, including sons Walt and John Blankenship and daughters Mary Kligel, Carol Longhorn and Janet Bailey, knew they had another brother, but weren’t sure where he was. May thought Tommy’s father might have taken him to New York after the couple split up. “We used to watch American Bandstand on television, and Mom would say, ‘Watch for your brother.’ She had some baby pictures, that was all,” said Kligel.
Walt Blankenship took the initiative and began a search for Tommy. He spent $104 on phone calls and learned that there were 15 Anthony DeRosas listed in New York phone directories. When he asked an officer with the Oregon State Police in Hermiston for advice, it was suggested he contact the New York State Police.
Not only did state police in New York locate the correct Anthony DeRosa, they handed off a letter to him written by Walt. DeRosa immediately called Walt, asking, “What took you so long?” He said he had always hoped he had siblings, but didn’t know how to find them, or if they even existed. He was told as a boy not to ask about his mother.
DeRosa next called his mother, by chance on her birthday, and told her that not only had she found her long-lost son, but also a daughter-in-law, Lynn, and four grandchildren.
DeRosa flew into the Tri-Cities Airport on Jan. 17, 1982, and was immediately swept into the arms of a family he hadn’t even dreamed of just a month before. He spent two weeks getting acquainted with his mother and a few dozen family members before returning to Queens, N.Y., where he worked as a truck driver and supervisor at a dairy. DeRosa planned to bring his family for another visit the following summer.
May’s other children, including sons Walt and John Blankenship and daughters Mary Kligel, Carol Longhorn and Janet Bailey, knew they had another brother, but weren’t sure where he was. May thought Tommy’s father might have taken him to New York after the couple split up. “We used to watch American Bandstand on television, and Mom would say, ‘Watch for your brother.’ She had some baby pictures, that was all,” said Kligel.
Walt Blankenship took the initiative and began a search for Tommy. He spent $104 on phone calls and learned that there were 15 Anthony DeRosas listed in New York phone directories. When he asked an officer with the Oregon State Police in Hermiston for advice, it was suggested he contact the New York State Police.
Not only did state police in New York locate the correct Anthony DeRosa, they handed off a letter to him written by Walt. DeRosa immediately called Walt, asking, “What took you so long?” He said he had always hoped he had siblings, but didn’t know how to find them, or if they even existed. He was told as a boy not to ask about his mother.
DeRosa next called his mother, by chance on her birthday, and told her that not only had she found her long-lost son, but also a daughter-in-law, Lynn, and four grandchildren.
DeRosa flew into the Tri-Cities Airport on Jan. 17, 1982, and was immediately swept into the arms of a family he hadn’t even dreamed of just a month before. He spent two weeks getting acquainted with his mother and a few dozen family members before returning to Queens, N.Y., where he worked as a truck driver and supervisor at a dairy. DeRosa planned to bring his family for another visit the following summer.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
‘The Gard’ rewarded for stellar service to county
Marie Gard is a pioneer when it comes to Umatilla County law enforcement. “The Gard,” as she was affectionately known during her career with the Umatilla County Sheriff’s Office, was the first woman hired as a correctional officer at the Umatilla County Jail. Her dedication to the sheriff’s office earned statewide recognition in January of 1998.
Gard began her law enforcement career in 1971 when she was hired as a dispatcher. She learned about the job from a Pendleton police detective who investigated after she was held up at gunpoint at the local Western Union office, where she was the manager. When the office closed, the detective encouraged Gard to apply with the sheriff’s office.
The diminutive Gard, who stands just under 5 feet tall, maintained a gentle demeanor until she was attacked by a female inmate she was booking into the jail. She then learned self-defense tactics from her male coworkers. Gard’s work ethic so impressed Sheriff Jim Carey she was offered a correctional officer position in 1981 — and she did her job so well Carey was encouraged to hire more women at the jail.
Though most of the male inmates at the Umatilla County Jail towered over and tried to intimidate her, Gard said she was never assaulted by any of them, avoiding physical altercations by relying on her “silver tongue” to get her out of tense situations. And Gard believes women are more likely to use intuition and communication skills during confrontations with inmates.
Sheriff John Trumbo rewarded Gard’s decades of service to the county by nominating her for a statewide award. In January of 1998, after 27 years with the Umatilla County Sheriff’s Office, Lt. Marie Gard was named Oregon Community Corrections’ 1997 Supervisor of the Year.
Gard remained with the sheriff’s office until her retirement in December 1998. She continued working as a part-time security guard at the Umatilla County Courthouse in Pendleton for another 17 years before retiring for good in February 2016 — a career spanning 45 years under nine different sheriffs.
Gard began her law enforcement career in 1971 when she was hired as a dispatcher. She learned about the job from a Pendleton police detective who investigated after she was held up at gunpoint at the local Western Union office, where she was the manager. When the office closed, the detective encouraged Gard to apply with the sheriff’s office.
The diminutive Gard, who stands just under 5 feet tall, maintained a gentle demeanor until she was attacked by a female inmate she was booking into the jail. She then learned self-defense tactics from her male coworkers. Gard’s work ethic so impressed Sheriff Jim Carey she was offered a correctional officer position in 1981 — and she did her job so well Carey was encouraged to hire more women at the jail.
Though most of the male inmates at the Umatilla County Jail towered over and tried to intimidate her, Gard said she was never assaulted by any of them, avoiding physical altercations by relying on her “silver tongue” to get her out of tense situations. And Gard believes women are more likely to use intuition and communication skills during confrontations with inmates.
Sheriff John Trumbo rewarded Gard’s decades of service to the county by nominating her for a statewide award. In January of 1998, after 27 years with the Umatilla County Sheriff’s Office, Lt. Marie Gard was named Oregon Community Corrections’ 1997 Supervisor of the Year.
Gard remained with the sheriff’s office until her retirement in December 1998. She continued working as a part-time security guard at the Umatilla County Courthouse in Pendleton for another 17 years before retiring for good in February 2016 — a career spanning 45 years under nine different sheriffs.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
Joyriding teen vows no more thrills
A Portland teenager was arrested near Meacham after engaging state law enforcement agencies in a state-wide manhunt in 1931, and his young female passenger was cured once and for all of thrillseeking after spending time in a local jail.
Merle Smiley and 17-year-old Peggy Carnahan left Portland together Jan. 14, 1931, after “borrowing” a car from a Portland garage. The couple traded the car for another one and $20 cash in Mosier, then continued east on their joyride. Portland police posted an all-points bulletin for the pair, and a Umatilla County sheriff’s deputy spotted them near Meacham two days later, where they were arrested.
Smiley was returned home by Portland authorities the same day. Carnahan, who confided to a reporter that she had run away with Smiley because she “wanted a thrill,” had a few adventures to ponder as she awaited her own transport home. Besides two days on the lam and her arrest, she got to spend the night in jail with two Native American women as companions — one of whom told her fortune — and had an unflattering “rogue’s gallery” photo taken as part of her stay in Umatilla County.
Carnahan declared she was ready to go home, and vowed to be a good girl from then on.
Merle Smiley and 17-year-old Peggy Carnahan left Portland together Jan. 14, 1931, after “borrowing” a car from a Portland garage. The couple traded the car for another one and $20 cash in Mosier, then continued east on their joyride. Portland police posted an all-points bulletin for the pair, and a Umatilla County sheriff’s deputy spotted them near Meacham two days later, where they were arrested.
Smiley was returned home by Portland authorities the same day. Carnahan, who confided to a reporter that she had run away with Smiley because she “wanted a thrill,” had a few adventures to ponder as she awaited her own transport home. Besides two days on the lam and her arrest, she got to spend the night in jail with two Native American women as companions — one of whom told her fortune — and had an unflattering “rogue’s gallery” photo taken as part of her stay in Umatilla County.
Carnahan declared she was ready to go home, and vowed to be a good girl from then on.
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
Non-traditional campout rings in the new year
Snowy weather and the winter holidays provided some fun, and a chilly campout experience, for three Hermiston brothers in the final days of 1973.
The sons of Dr. and Mrs. Milton Johnson of Hermiston, including 19-year-old Jeff, Jerry, 15, and Joey, 12, spent three days in the family’s back yard building an igloo in the classic Eskimo fashion, including a tunnel for entrance and a door made out of a huge chunk of icy snow.
Inside the eight-foot-wide by four-foot-long igloo, the boys laid a carpet for a floor and lit candles for light and warmth. The ceiling, measure seven feet high in the center, was made of a few pieces of lumber covered liberally with snow.
Construction foreman was the family’s black cat, Kohoutek, named for the “comet of the century” that was due to pass by the earth in early 1974.
Once the igloo was finished, on New Year’s Eve, the Johnson brothers decided to celebrate the holiday by camping out in the igloo overnight. Temperatures dropped to five degrees during the night, making it an event destined for the family scrapbook.
The sons of Dr. and Mrs. Milton Johnson of Hermiston, including 19-year-old Jeff, Jerry, 15, and Joey, 12, spent three days in the family’s back yard building an igloo in the classic Eskimo fashion, including a tunnel for entrance and a door made out of a huge chunk of icy snow.
Inside the eight-foot-wide by four-foot-long igloo, the boys laid a carpet for a floor and lit candles for light and warmth. The ceiling, measure seven feet high in the center, was made of a few pieces of lumber covered liberally with snow.
Construction foreman was the family’s black cat, Kohoutek, named for the “comet of the century” that was due to pass by the earth in early 1974.
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| Igloo builders (from left) Jeff, Jerry and Joey Johnson of Hermiston show off their Eskimo-style hut in early 1974. (EO file photo) |
Once the igloo was finished, on New Year’s Eve, the Johnson brothers decided to celebrate the holiday by camping out in the igloo overnight. Temperatures dropped to five degrees during the night, making it an event destined for the family scrapbook.
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