Wednesday, April 8, 2020 The Nugget Newspaper, Sisters, Oregon
Tales from a
Sisters
Naturalist
by Jim Anderson
Ah, the good
old days
My dad was a truck-driver
all his life. During the Great
Depression he had a tough
time making a living, and I
can remember him saying to
my mom, <Mother, I cannot
make a living working for
the WPA. I9m going to have
to leave and look for better
employment. You take the
children to the farm while
I9m gone.=
And she did. From the
time I was 10-years old in
1938 until the beginning of
World War II, my dad was
gone 4 I knew not where 4
but he sent home money to
let us know he was alive and
working.
I learned how to milk
cows, clean the manure out
of the troughs in the milk
barn, keep the outhouse
clean, bathe in the kitchen
sink, cut wood to keep
warm in winter 4 and raise
a pet crow.
The crow was my Aunt
Dutch9s idea. She named it
<Joe-the-Crow.=
The crow knew everyone
on the farm by name. One
night it caused a calamity
no one even dreamed of. My
grandmother9s older brother,
Joseph Grannis, lived with
us on the farm, and one dark
night he found it necessary to
make a trip to the outhouse.
The route from the farm-
house to the barn 4 the loca-
tion of the outhouse 4 was
out the back door, down the
path under the grape arbor to
the outhouse.
While navigating his way
through the dark grape arbor
he almost literally bumped
into Joe-the-Crow who
was spending the night in
the foliage. Poor Uncle Joe
didn9t see the bird, so he was
shocked when a voice came
out of the darkness, <Hello
Joe= so much so, he did his
pants&
I learned of this event the
next morning listening to
my Uncle Joe at the break-
fast table complaining over
his pancakes and eggs while
demanding that Joe-the-
Crow find a different place
to spend the night.
In fact, that crow had
a great deal to do with my
curiosity about the nature of
the universe around me. It
was a mystery to me why he
hated my uncle9s pal, Barney
Lutenberger, so much.
During most of the day
Joe hung out in the big
cherry tree in front of the
house. He9d see Barney com-
ing down Jones Hill Road on
his bike from his home at
the top of the hill. Joe would
fly down to the huge hedge
between the tree and the
roadway where he9d wait for
Barney. When he rolled into
the yard the crow would dash
out and literally get right in
Barney9s face, cawing at him
and trying to peck his eyes
out.
And then there was the
scheme my Uncle Horace
dreamed up to get Joe to fol-
low us to school.
My three uncles and I
would jump on our bikes,
(Horace, Harry, Ben and
myself), and head off to
school, and Horace would
invite Joe to join us by offer-
ing him cooked clams as we
rolled off toward Colonial
Park School. Joe was nuts
about baked clams and would
at times ride on Horace9s
handlebars crowing for a
handout.
We9d park our bikes at
school and hustle off to our
classrooms while Joe, all
stirred up by the new oppor-
tunities he saw for finding
illicit food, would go off
exploring. All was well until
about 10 a.m. and suddenly
we9d hear a crow calling,
<Oh, Jimmy, Oh, Horace, Oh
11
PHOTO BY JIM ANDERSON
My son, Dean, now father of five, back when he was a kid caring for one
of the many babies I was privileged to raise when I worked at OMSI.
Harry,= and/or, <Oh, Benny.=
This would go on as Joe flew
from window-to-window at
the school.
It drove Miss Kennedy,
the eighth-grade teacher nuts.
My seventh-grade teacher,
Miss Fogerty, would get
after me, <Jimmy! If that9s
your crow shouting for you,
get out there and do some-
thing about it!= Doing some-
thing about it was getting
the clams my Uncle Horace
saved, leading Joe back to
the farm and then staying out
of school for the rest of the
day.
I can recall vividly the day
Joe went out of our lives. It
was the day my Aunt Dutch
asked, <Where9s Joe?= add-
ing, <I haven9t seen him for
a couple of weeks now.= And
with that she started search-
ing. She looked at all of the
outbuildings, concentrating
on the hay barn, and after
about an hour she suddenly
appeared, grinning like the
proverbial Cheshire Cat.
<I found Joe!= she
declared and his name is now
Josephine&=
She was laughing her head
off as she added& <She9s
setting on eggs over in a nest
on a beam coming out from
the roof of the hay barn.=
Sure enough, Josephine
finished incubating her eggs
and conducted her usual pan-
handling for all kinds of food
scraps to feed her growing
brood. She raised 9em up and
when they fledged she took
them off, never to be seen
again.
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