The Goldendale Sentinel, Goldendale, WA., January 28, 1960, page 7
HISTORICAL SOCIETY MEMBERS EXCHANGE EARLY-DAY STORIES
The county historical society meeting at Lyle January 16 brought to light a number of small tales and anecdotes, bits of history related by persons at the meeting. The following are typical:
In connection with comments about the weather, Mrs. Clark,
O.P. Kreps, William O'Neil and others said it was common practice to cross
the Columbia on ice in the days when Lyle was first settled. Mrs. Clark said
her older brother, Van Sorensen, used to put sand on the ice for traction
and hauled wheat across the ice; she remembered hogs being driven across
the ice to market and said that as a girl she had walked the ice from Lyle
to Rowena.
O.P. Kreps said that in the first years his father spent
in the Mt. Adams country, freeze-up of the river was looked forward to look
as market time for cattlemen of Glenwood, or Camas Prairie. It was their
custom to band together, four or five the driving the mutual herd to the
Dalles. In those days they were paid off in gold, and it soon became obvious
that one did not trust his neighbors, for he always contrived to give them
the slip and make his way home alone.
FIRST SETTLERS HARDY
Kreps, added that the early settlers were hardy and rugged
to a degree unknown today. It was said of George Lyle, son of J.O. Lyle,
for whom the town was named, that when he was in a hurry to go to The Dalles
he plunged in and swam the river. At other times he rowed across in a boat,
swimming his saddle horse behind it.
Someone else recalled friendship with Lillie Olson, daughter
of pioneers at Lyle, who as a girl helped her father row a boat loaded with
farm produce from Lyle to The Dalles at various times.
Another member recalled that during a period of high
water a boatman brought a small boat into the vineyard of Mr. Balfour, who
rather indignantly said "get your boat out of my vineyard!" To which the
boatman replied with spirit "get your vineyard out of my river!"
Curtis Gould, Lyle School Superintendent, who recorded
on tape portions of the meeting at for the benefit of Lyle high school students,
said some students had asked about the roadway blasted from the rocks above
the highway tunnel east of Lyle.
EARLY HIGHWAY
It was explained by oldsters present as one of the first
attempts to build a highway up the north bank. The work was done by convicts
billeted in a "stockade" set up adjacent to the site. The project had been
inspired by Samuel Hill, who exerted tremendous pressure to get the highway
put through.
The rock work was never finished, though a considerable
bit of highway was blasted and hewn along the basalt cliffs during the life
of the job. William O'Neil placed the time as 1912 to 1915. It was brought
out that one convict was killed on the job and "was buried in our cemetery."
Kreps added that convict labor had been utilized for
a portion of work on the Klickitat Northern R.R. During the work near Fisher
bridge, one convict escaped by leaping into the river and swimming away.
Mention of construction of the railroad brought out the
story of the Indian chief, Skookum Wallahee. Skookum sold right-of-way across
his lands after an extended period of negotiation. Contractors were way ahead
of the land agent and Skookum, according to O.P. Kreps, had his own way of
the hastening the settlement. Every day he went high up on the hill and rolled
rocks down on the workmen. "Me rollem rock -- pretty soon they settle," he
told friends, and when the settlement was made Skookum chose a lifetime pass
in lieu of cash payment.
ON FIRST TRAIN
When the first line was put in operation, Skookum was
ready to ride the first train, which stopped to pick him up. Every day he
would flag down a train, ride to Goldendale and return. Eventually the crews
tired of stopping to let the old boy on and off, and some of the stops were
mere slow-downs.
After one such occasion the chief, almost cured of riding
trains, showed up with his head skinned and black and blue from bruises.
"Me almost go to Jesus yesterday," he confided to Kreps. After that, his
train riding was limited.
"Old Skookum may not have looked very big," Kreps observed,
"but he was high enough up the Indian ladder that he was invited to Washington
two or three times to visit the Great White Father. Once he remarked at our
house, "Smellum good - all same like White House. (He wanted us to know he
had been there.)"
"My father, brothers and I grazed cattle on Skookum land
for years. In his last year he sat on the floor of his dwelling and died
a slow death. He sent four us, and said "Soon me memaloose. After me memaloose
you no bring more cattle to pasture. Though Dad protested the old man persisted,
and we lived up to his direction. No OK cattle ever ran on Skookum's land
again, although we were approached many times with offers of pasturage on
what had been his land.
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© Jeffrey L. Elmer