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THE ASTORIAN • THuRSdAy, JuNE 30, 2022
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IN ONE EAR • ELLEDA WILSON
‘IT WAS AWFUL’
BUILT ON STILTS
ocal history buffs ought to enjoy this one: A “his-
toric inventory” of the Adair-Uppertown section of
Astoria, by Jill A. Chappel.
It’s actually a rather dry 1994 report to the city’s com-
munity development office, designed to be used as a
planning tool for Astoria’s historic preservation efforts,
but even so, it contains all sorts of interesting historic
facts.
Did you know that in 1844 John Shively’s original
layout for Astoria had an east and west section, sepa-
rated by a 120-foot wide street, supposed to be named
Broadway?
The eastern end of town, now known as Uppertown,
had street names like Hemlock, Pine, Wing and Tulip.
Fifty by 150 foot lots were selling for about $200 (about
$7,600 now) by 1849, and by 1850 the population of
Astoria was 250.
By 1870, although it was growing rapidly, Astoria
was still pretty raw around the edges. Vacationers from
Portland who came downriver on sternwheelers to dally
in Seaside were not impressed.
English professor and writer Randall V. Mills noted:
“Astoria itself offered little to the excursionist.
“A town built on stilts out over the tide flats … Asto-
ria remained for many years markedly ugly, so that its
strongest partisans talked about its setting, with the for-
ested hills rising behind it, and the broad bay before it, or
its quaintness with its wooden streets, and tactfully said
nothing about the town itself.
“One did not, it seemed, stop at Astoria, except to
change boats and go somewhere else.” My, my, how
times have changed.
L
BUCKIN’ BUCKS
n July 2, 1883, “The most disas-
trous fire in the history of Astoria”
occurred, as described in The Daily Asto-
rian on July 3.
There was a drought, and the weather on
July 2 was hot and windy — perfect fire
weather for a town with a business dis-
trict built on wooden posts and piers. Add
to that some boys smoking on the beach
next to the Clatsop Mill on 14th Street that
afternoon who, when caught, tossed their
lit cigarettes into some nearby sawdust and
shavings.
The breeze had let up a bit by 6 p.m., but
that was when a “dense volume of black
smoke and a column of fire” appeared at the
Clatsop Mill. The fire department appeared
on the scene quickly, but the wind kicked
up, and the fire began to spread, setting
houses afire, and threatening a nearby barn
full of coal oil.
The cases of oil were removed quickly,
and tossed into the river, but the fire raged
on. Even Capt. George Flavel’s new water
pump (which didn’t have enough hose)
and the old hand water pumps couldn’t
stop it. “Every available force was brought
into requisition … Men worked till they
dropped and others took their places.”
Even so, the fire spread to 17th Street.
“… Amid the roar of the advancing
flames swept on by the breeze, could be
heard the crash of falling timbers and the
sharp detonations of cartridges. The road-
way was a solid mass of flame. The houses,
the street itself, the sidewalks, everything
… Nothing left but to seize money and
valuables and rush out up the hill. It was
awful.” Amazingly, there was no loss of
life.
The fire was at its height by 7:30 p.m.
The looters came out in droves, and “…
the steamers swung out into the stream,
their decks filled with silent spectators;
every housetop was covered with men who
ceased throwing water on roofs and walls
to gaze on that sublime spectacle.”
By 1 a.m., the danger was over. “Let
us see that it does not happen again,”
the newspaper warned. (Photo: Clatsop
County Historical Society)
O
uckus rerun: Astorian Bruce Leggett saw a young
buck and doe come down the hill across the street on
Grand Avenue to snack on some leaves in a neighbor’s yard.
As he was standing on the sidewalk watching them,
he turned around, and a big buck was suddenly walking
alongside him. He gave Bruce a side eye, and headed
straight for the other buck.
Likewise, the first buck approached the intruder.
“They circled each other in the street, then smacked each
other in the head, and antler-wrestled,” Bruce said. The
female disappeared once the ruckus started.
The two bucks tussled all over the neighbor’s yard,
knocking down a small tree, and generally making a
mess with their acrobatics. They eventually rolled down
a hill and scampered away.
“They have some power, I’ll tell you,” Bruce noted,
“in spite of those skinny legs. Neither one of them was
giving up.” (In One Ear, 11/16/2012)
R
‘LITTLE KNOWN GEM’
ow do you know when your town has truly been
“discovered” by the outside world? When it gets a
write-up in far-off India’s TheBharatExpessNews.com,
that’s how. The paper recently noted that Ilwaco, Wash-
ington, “an under-the-radar riverside town” is “well
worth a visit.”
The reviewer mentions several restaurants, the
marina, the Lewis and Clark Expedition’s stopover
nearby, along with several other historical tidbits, and
enjoyed the fresh oysters and clams, the North Head
Lighthouse and even the Saturday Market and cranberry
bogs.
She was also impressed by a house she spotted: “It is
for sale by owner for $300,000. You can’t buy a storage
shed in Seattle for that.” You can almost hear the price
rising.
All in all, Ilwaco, a “charming coastal village,” is a
“little-known gem.” Until now, that is.
H
NO CELEBRATION
LONG-AWAITED REPLY
ack in October 2019, this column ran a letter from
Aila Lavin of Bolton, England, who was asking if
anyone knew if she had any long lost relatives in Asto-
ria related to her great-uncle, John K. Jackson (the K
stands for his original last name, Karjalainen), whose
last known address was in 1958, at 369 W. Niagara Ave.
Well, no one responded to her inquiry until Liisa Pen-
ner, archivist at the Clatsop County Historical Soci-
ety, happened across the original story recently.
“We now have a new website that is attached to
Archive.org,” she wrote to Aila, “and we have over
2,000 books and other items scanned on it. I thought I’d
try to see if I could find John K. Jackson on it, and almost
immediately did … His second wife was Olga, and he
had stepsons, but apparently no children of his own.
John’s obituary (he died Jan. 1, 1965) is on the website.”
So, Aila finally has her answer.
Want to do your own research? Here’s the exact link:
bit.ly/CCHistSoc. Put your search words in the “text
contents” box, not the “metadata” one.
“This website for the Clatsop County Historical Soci-
ety,” Liisa added, “with items scanned by Julie Burpee,
is a real help now.” Indeed!
B
FOND MEMORIES
little Fourth of July nostalgia: A story by Eleanor
Barrows Bower, written for the summer 1968 edi-
tion of The Sou’wester magazine:
“Growing up in Chinook (Washington) … the most
anticipated event of the year was the Fourth of July
Liberty Wagon! Then Festus Plumb‘s hay rack wagon
was converted into a two-tiered platform. His gray stal-
lions, with red, white and blue ribbons braided into their
tails, drew the wagon.
“Beginning at lower Frogtown (so called because of
the croaking of frogs in the early springtime) the wagon
drove slowly through town. The sides of the wagon were
draped with red, white and blue bunting. A Goddess of
Liberty and a costumed Uncle Sam stood on the wagon,
waving to the onlookers.
“As the wagon stopped at each child’s home (… Chi-
nook had only one street), the children were lifted onto
the wagon. As it went the entire length of the town, each
child waved and carried a small flag. The wagon trip
ended at the grove back of the schoolhouse, where a pic-
nic was held …
“… This way of life is no more, but it has left a wealth
of fond memories.”
A
WASHED ASHORE
n the Fourth of July, two days after the
1883 Astoria fire, there was not much
celebrating going on. For one thing, a vigi-
lante committee, known as the “committee
of safety” had been formed, and was busy
getting organized.
One bone of contention was a new saloon
that refused to comply with the new 10 p.m.
curfew. “A party of special police made a
descent on the place,” the July 6 edition of
The Daily Astorian says, “and after a lively
interchange of pistol shots, in which one man
was wounded in the leg, Reilly, Ginder and
one other man, together with a woman of
belligerent disposition, were captured and
placed in jail.”
The committee targeted troublemakers in
town who should receive this hand-delivered
printed notice: ‘’Astoria, July 4th, 1833, To
xxx, You are hereby notified to leave Astoria,
within 24 hours, not to return. Signed, Citi-
zen’s Committee.” They also “visited vagrant
haunts, warning parties who had not been
previously notified that a due regard for their
health suggested instant departure.”
“… There was no attempt to celebrate,”
the paper noted, and there were, of course,
no fireworks or firecrackers. “At the slightest
unusual sound there was a general alertness,
and … altogether the Fourth of July 1883
in Astoria does not present a very brilliant
painting to hang upon the walls of Memory’s
picture gallery.”
O
broadnose sevengill shark washed ashore Sun-
day at the south end of Arcadia Beach State Rec-
reation (Site),” just south of Cannon Beach, Tiffany
Boothe of the Seaside Aquarium wrote. Her photos
are shown. The 8.7-foot, 120-pound female had died
prior to washing in, and will be frozen for use as an
educational tool and research through Oregon State
University.
It’s one of 17 species of sharks found off the Ore-
gon Coast, and they feed from near shore to depths
of 400 feet. “While they are known for their aggres-
sive behavior when feeding,” she explained, “and the
fact that they can get quite large — nearly 10 feet and
weighing up to 400 pounds — there has not been a
documented attack on a human along the Oregon
Coast.
“Worldwide, they have only been responsible for
five attacks on humans since the 17th century. None of
which were fatal. But,” she cautions, “the jury is still
out on that one, since human remains have been found
in the stomachs of some sevengills.”
‘A