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The Mt. Adams Sun, Bingen, WA., January 5, 1956, page 2

NATIVE SON OF GLENWOOD THINKS FARM INCOME WILL GET BETTER

"Friends know your business almost better than you do. Other people don't care. So why tell a story?" Reasoned Osmar A. Kuhnhausen last Saturday.
Osmar's family homesteaded in Glenwood valley in 1884. His dad, Oscar, had nine brothers and two sisters. All but one sister came to Camas Prairie from Germany. Only four of the first-generation Kuhnhausen's are still living: Paul in Chehalis: Alvier and William in Portland, and August in California.
Osmar would have to skip his chores several days to trace of the Kuhnhausen genealogy. Besides being too busy with his "hobbies" (cattle and keeping out of politics), Osmar requested:
"Don't make your story too long or boastful. I've lived here all my life and am known pretty well. There's no use trying to fool anybody."

EARLY DAYS

When Generals U.S. Grant and George B. McClellan were mere wilderness shavetales, the latter wrote in his official report to Washington: "Camas Prairie is invested with Indians and unfit for human habitation."
In spite of his pessimistic description, Glenwood's first families stuck to their homesteads. Many of their children and grandchildren still till the same prairie.
Osmar and sisters, Mrs. Jacob (Wallie) Pierce and Mrs. George (Sophia) Wellenbrock, were born on the original homestead now owned by George Lyle. Another sister, Gerda, died years ago.
Three other second-generation Kuhnhausens, first cousins, remain in the valley: Herman and Rosa (Mrs. S.S. Surface), children of Herman; and Verne, sons of Alvier.
About 1900 Osmar's father, Oscar, bought of the 160-acre ranch, three miles SW of Glenwood, from Bob Barker, one of the gayest blades of those pioneer days. His horse's, buggies and lady friends were the envy of every young bachelor. Bob died a few years ago in White Salmon.

THE RANCH

When the Kuhnhausens bought Bob's ranch, only 40 acres were under cultivation. The rest was timber and underbrush which father and son set about clearing. They built a small sawmill to make up their own lumber to build the house and original barns.
Today's spread is a far cry from those beginnings. The half mile lane leading to the white-picketed yard is paved with red rock which Osmar keeps plowed after every snow. All but 40 acres are cleared, giving a sweeping view of the entire operation.
The land lies flat as a table top - as indeed it is for his 170 head of white face. Oscar raises all his winter feed, about 40 tons of oats and mixed-grass hay.
For 36 summers (from 1916-1952) Osmar's cows pastured in Gifford Pinchot National Forest around Mt. Adams. When his herd was quarantined he went independent.
Fortunately he owns and leases some 3,500 acres of fenced land along the Klickitat. This provides adequate summer range for his cut-down herd Additional income from timber has supported the cattle for two years.

NO POLITICS

There's no political implications in Osmar's saying that for the past two years raising beef hasn't been a business, but a hobby. He's been at it all his life and couldn't quit if he wanted to.
Confidentially he expects a political change in agricultural policy:
"People raised under a gemme government aren't going to tolerate a do-it-yourself philosophy. It's like asking children to vote against Santa Claus."
Farming has few inducements for young men. Long hours, poor pay and the immense capital required to get into production are beyond the means of most youths. Experienced farmers who own their land, equipment and stock can carry on for a time.
Osmar believes that eventually over production will be solved by a shortage of young farmers. When this happens, farming will get better, he predicts. The country's got to eat.

STAY AT HOMES

In 1958 at Denver, Osmar and Rama Summers were married. They make a good pair and like to stay at home.
"When you get to be 58 you don't want to go to every dog fight for miles around," Osmar says "Ramey and I are comfortable in our little house. Since we got the TV a month ago, we seldom go anywhere, even in the evening."
Actually they still have plenty of interests. Rama's flowers, garden, sewing, housekeeping and cooking are something special. She belongs to the ladies Aid and the Cowbelles.
Osmar has spent 30 years as a Granger and Director of the Hell Roaring Irrigation Association.
He also belongs to these ….. text was missing …got him. Rama patiently held him on her finger and kept repeating the same phrase over endlessly for a week.
Finally her patience wore thin.
"I was just ready to feed him to the cat when he jumped on the window sill and said "Mama's baby boy". I was so thrilled" Rama says…. He also says "Stinker, stinker!"
At this point another bird made himself heard - the cukoo clock striking three and shore time. The pleasant interview he ended with coffee and fruit cake.
Long blue shadows stretched across the snow outside. Towering over the flat red barn was Mt. Adams, branded U-S-A, against the setting sun. The aluminum sheds gleaming like mirrors. Osmar's cattle quietly chewing their cuds in the neat corrals.
"Farming is a way of life," we thought as we drove down the long lane. "Remember to keep Osmar's story short."