Historical Society Museum open house tomorrow

MOSES LAKE - Go back in history.

The Grant County Historical Society Museum and Village will celebrate an open house after the Sage-N-Sun parade until 4 p.m. This is a chance to tour the main museum building, but also all of the buildings making up the village.

This is a great family event, providing a bunch of Grant County history.

Sage-N-Sun

The annual Sage-N-Sun Festival in Ephrata takes place this weekend in Ephrata. Rock Park in the middle of town will be the focus point.

Events have been scheduled on Thursday and Friday and have supposedly taken place. However tomorrow, with the 6 a.m. Fun Run sponsored by the Lions Club.

The Ephrata Library will continue its traditional book sale, which began on Friday, from 11 a.m. on Saturday and running until till 4 p.m.

The Grand Parade will begin at 11 a.m. at the High School and travel down Basin Street to Moore Furniture. This year's theme is "Our Families are Ephrata."

The Senior Center Luncheon will begin at 11 a.m. and continue until 2 p.m. Also there will be side-walk sales and the local restaurant will offer specials.

Grant County history

The Grant County Historical Society has compiled several volumes of Grant County history. The books are available for purchase at the Historical Society Museum gift shop in Ephrata.

I bought the series in 2009 and secured permission to relay some of the history through this column.

Memories of Grant County, compiled from taped interviews by the Grant County Historical Society.

Today we backtrack a bit and then continue the story of Hartline, by Kathryn (Kay) Evans, recorded May 9, 1978 and the letter written by her grandmother, Aunt Kate, in 1940:

"More and more snow fell and winds blew and filled draws 15 to 20 feet deep with snow. As most of the folks were newcomers who had been in the country only a year or two, they were unpre?pared for such a winter, as indeed were the oldest settlers, the cattlemen.

"The cattle and horses had generally lived through the winters on the native bunch grass, horses generally instinctively going south and cattle being driven to sheltered slopes with just a little hay being put up for saddle ponies and weaker cattle. But the unusual depth, four feet on the level, and no thawing spells killed off cattle like flies.

"The construction trains on the railroad came no nearer us than 25 miles, Wilbur. People got out of fuel. Those who had a little fencing, dug up the posts and if they had a partition in their house, used it for fuel.

"I had bought a ton of hay from a neighbor about four miles away. I had gotten about half of it hauled and put in my uncle's shack which was near mine. Uncle had built a shed onto the south side of his shack before he had gone for the winter to work for a stockman. The snow got so deep that I never got the rest of the hay.

"The snow drifted so deep around my shack and over my wood pile that I could not tell how my wood supply was holding out, but I knew it was impossible to get any more, so I would lie in bed until I got too hungry. Of course, I had the cracks of my wall battened before winter set in. You may know that a single board wall, no ceiling, but a tight roof, was not very warm.

"My poor old pony would get hungry and also lonesome, too, so he would come up to the house and turn and turn the knob and sometimes get it open, put his head in and whinny. I fed all the hay, all the rye grass straw in uncle's bed tick, and all I could possibly spare from my own bed, there were no springs and mattresses in those days, and every scrap of potato peelings and crumbs of bread, not a speck went to waste. I had to melt snow for myself and pony too, as the little spring was about 15 feet under snow.

"My shack was on a ridge, and it was a desolate outlook to look at miles of snow with just a little black dot here and there. However, the pony and I pulled through alright without any suffering. I dread now to think of the risks that we ran. I used to wade through snow up to my waist to a neighbor's house to get my mail. I shudder to think what if one of those thick bewildering fogs would have come up. I would not now let anyone I could help, try it. Others took the same chances.

"We finished that fall term of 1889 and spring of 1890 in another homestead shack. A cold windstorm came up in April and we almost froze, although the snow was gone. The battens on the shack had been taken off, and the wind and dust and trash blew through the shack. The stove pipe was too short to reach the peak of the roof, so the smoke blew back into the shack through the big box stove.

"Anyhow, we went through with it. We could not do much under such conditions, but I can say with satisfac?tion and pride that some of those same boys and girls who are now grandparents, have said that I was 'the best teacher they ever had.'

"The next school I had was the first school in Coulee City, which had sprung up in the summer of 1890, when the Central Washington Railroad was built from Spokane to Coulee City. That school?house was the first hotel built in that town and vacated for another and better building, just a long narrow building of boards on end and battened.

"The first day, when I got there, the seats were boards laid on nail kegs and piles of brick with plaster on the floor from the chimney that had been taken down. About a dozen youngsters, all newcomers, who were not yet acquainted with each other, soon came, with some text books they had brought from what?ever state they had come from.

"The carpenters kept on taking down the various partitions after school hours, until they were all down but one, back of which in what was the kitchen of the hotel, was my room in the teacherage, although we did not call it that.

"It was six weeks before we could get the uniform series of textbooks, as the publishers could not turn them out fast enough. We had about a square yard of slated cloth for a blackboard. The schoolroom had one ordinary sized window in the front, one on the east near my table and another on the opposite side, which was quite useless, as another building stood only three feet away.

"In the short winter days it was almost dark by 2 p.m. and also, about that time of day the mixed train came, and the snorting, and puffing and cutting out freight cars made such a noise, we could scarcely hear each other speak. We were almost opposite the depot. Altogether, to me it was the most unsatisfactory term I ever had. The population being so constantly changing, I had only one or two of the pupils I had at the first of the term when the term closed.

"After teaching four months at Coulee City, three months in public school and one month by private subscription, I married and went to live on a ranch. The house was a one-room log cabin with dirt piled on the roof.

"We lived there only a few months, put in about 20 acres of wheat, and then went back to Coulee City, where Bob (Roberts) had bought a dray business.

"Coulee City was certainly a lively place, the terminal of the Central Washington Rail?road and the freighting outlet for a dozen or more little frontier towns with no railroad. The one main street was knee deep in alkali dust; sagebrush and greasewood covered vacant lots. Freighters put bells on their horses, for the dust was so thick on the roads and in the air that drivers could not see their lead teams.

"Nearly all the buildings were wooden. One man put up a galvanized iron building and did a big business. When the railroad was built through the county west of Grand Coulee the freighting came to an end and Coulee was dead.

"Evelyn, later to be Evelyn Evans, and Walter were born in Coulee City. Note from Kathryn (Kay) Evans: My mother, Evelyn Evans, took credit for being the first white girl born in Coulee City.

"When Coulee City died down because of the other railroad, we went back to the ranch, got it all fenced in and more land broken out. Those were lonely years, I would not see another woman for weeks at a time, for most of my neighbors had small children like myself and most were related, so when the women did go visiting, it was to see their own relatives.

"In 1893, came the Cleveland Panic. Wheat was so low in price, no one had money. Most ranchers used parched wheat, rye or barley for coffee. We had meat and bread, but vegetables were scarce for grasshoppers cleaned up what garden stuff we tried to raise.

"Fruit was to be had only by a three- or four-day trip to some fruit ranch on the Columbia. I bought enough peaches and plums one year to can 18 half-gallon jars one fall from Charles Hill, Jim Hill's brother, who peddled fruit. We would open a jar when we had company and use what was left. How careful I was of it. The little local stores carried only staples, such as sugar, tea, coffee, etc., a few dry goods, mostly overalls and such.

"One year wheat sold for 16 and 18 cents per bushel way below the cost of production. Bob and some neighbors went over to the Coast to work in logging camps. Uncle George Roberts stayed with us.

"That year literary societies were going on in Hartline and our own school districts. George took us to attend them. I surely enjoyed them and always took part in the debates in which many important questions were settled.

"I think we could profit by such discussions these days. I read everything I could get hold of. I borrowed every book in the neighborhood and during those years, I memorized many poems. When I was a youngster in Ohio I had memorized every poem in the McGuf?fey's Readers, among which was Patrick Henry's 'Give me Liberty or Give me Death' speech.

"When my oldest was about 5 and a half, I was left alone with three children. I went back to Ohio for about a year and a half, but came back to Washington and taught school for two years. We had to stay very closely on that homestead, for land was getting scarce and meddlesome people were watching new home?steaders closely.

"Several times we caught someone sneaking around the house and stable when coming back after having been away for a few days. When we would come in sight of the house, the spy would sneak away through the sagebrush.

"The land commissioner, John R. Lewis told me that one fellow had been to his office com?plaining that I would go away and leave the child?ren at home on the homestead and that I had no right to prove up just by leaving the kids there. Lewis told the fellow that I was the head of a family and that I could stay away as much as I wished so long as my family was there. I have always been grateful for the good neighbors we had.

"I forgot to mention that in the fall after coming back from Ohio, we built a little house in Hartline, while teaching there, in which we lived for two years until I filed on a second homestead. Afterward the girls batched in the little brown house as it got to be called while attending school during the winter months. Otto Schultz built a little shack on the same lot in which he lived and batched while he attended school. He and the girls used to borrow various and sundry groceries forth and back like some house?wives.

Wilson Creek area history

The Rev. David H. Crawford compiled and published a history of families in and surrounding Wilson Creek titled, "Family Memories of Wilson Creek Area." The book was printed in 1978, which was the 75th anniversary of the town. David's son, John Crawford, has given permission for those memories to be a part of this column.

Today we continue the story of the Keller family:

As a young man Jacob attended Blair Business College in Spokane from 1909 to 1911. Upon gradu?ation he became a bookkeeper and later manager of the Wheeler grain elevator. After several years he became manager of the Ruff grain elevator, which he managed until 1919 when he became manager of the Wilson Creek grain elevator.

He was a dedi?cated and successful manager, serving in this ca?pacity until 1962 when he became assistant mana?ger and officially retired in 1968. For 40 years he was a volunteer Official Weather Bureau obser?ver. He faithfully kept the weather records daily and received official recognition in a ceremony in Seattle from the U.S. Department of Commerce with an award of a plaque and pin for his 40 years of service.

He also contributed to the community by serving on the School Board and Town council. He was a faithful church member of the Presbyterian Church.

It was during the time of his Ruff job that he met and courted Gertrude Griesinger, then a teacher in Wilson Creek. They were married June 28, 1916 in the family home in Wilson Creek, then occupied by her mother, Maria Griesinger.

They began their married life in Ruff and on August 13, 1918 a son, Leonard was born. They moved to Wil?son Creek to the family home in 1919 when Jacob became manager of the Wilson Creek elevator. Two more children were born, Margaret on August 19, 1922 and Harold on October 2, 1928.

Leonard, Margaret and Harold attended school at Wilson Creek, graduating from high school in 1936, 1939 and 1946 respectively.

Leonard and Harold attended Washington State College in Pull?man, Harold obtaining a degree in Pharmacy. Margaret attended Eastern Washington State College at Cheney getting a degree in education.

Leonard and Harold both served in military service. Leonard was a Staff Sergeant in the Army Air Corps during World War II and served in the South Pacific. Harold was in the Navy during the Korean War, serving as a pharmacist aboard a hospital ship.

It was during this time that our dear mother passed away, on July 11, 1952, after being in failing health for several years. She endeared herself through her selfless years of service to the Presby?terian Church and other social organizations.

There was never enough time to accomplish all she wanted to do each day and so she usually was on a quick?step. She loved her home, flowers and garden, but always put the needs of others before herself. We cherish precious memories of her.

Margaret married Stanley Siegenthaler from Spokane, on February 12, 1944, and they have three sons, Kent, born Mar. 25, 1946; Craig, born Aug. 25, 1950 and Mark born Dec. 4, 1953. Margaret, Stan and family reside in Seattle where Margaret has pursued a teaching career.

Stan was in an architectural business. Craig married Nancy Wood from Minneapolis, Minn. on Nov. 28, 1975. They met while both were employed at a radio station in Washington D. C. They lived a short time in San Juan, Puerto Rico and now live in Seattle where Craig is chief engineer at KUUU and KZOK Radio Stations.

Leonard met Lillian Kay while both were working for the Navy Department in Seattle and they were married on August 16, 1947. They have two children, Ros?etta, born Oct. 31, 1952 and Jeffrey born Sept. 19, 1955.

In 1953 they moved from Seattle to Wilson Creek, where Leonard became bookkeeper, assistant manager and manager of the Wilson Creek Union Grain and Trading Co. in 1968 when his father re?tired.

Rosetta married Terry Olsen from Hyde Park, Utah on Aug. 13, 1976 and they have a son Matthew, born May 24, 1977. Jeffrey served two years as a Mormon missionary in New Zealand and attends Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.

Harold married Joanne Walter from Odessa on Nov. 5, 1950. They have four children; David, born Jan. 9, 1952; Ronald, born Jan. 9. 1954; Nancy, born Jan. 13, 1955 and Will born May 10. 1956. Harold and Joanne lived many years in Odessa where Harold owned and operated a drug store and Joanne continued a nursing career at the local hospital. With family reared, Harold decided to pursue a new career and purchased the Card N Candle Gift Shop at Northtown in Spokane, and part-ownership in a pharmacy in the valley. He recently acquired the Hallmark Gift Shop also at Northtown.

David is working in research for a public television station in Los Angeles. Ron married Danielle Radlova, a Czechoslovakian girl whom he met in Cairo, Egypt while working on Arabic language mastery for his degree from the University of Chicago.

They were married in Cairo in May of 1977. Nancy is now a First Lieutenant in the Army Corps of Nurses having received her degree in nursing in May of 1977. She is now stationed at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonia, Texas. Will is attend?ing Western Washington State College at Belling?ham.

Jacob Keller, our dear father, passed away on May 31, 1972. During his last years he lived with Leonard and Lillian, but boarded with them for many years previously. Of interest to the family is that Harold's sons and Leonard's son are the only ones to carry on the name of Keller.