T HE W EST ❖ T HE S IUSLAW N EWS ❖ F LORENCE T IMES ❖ T HE S IUSLAW O AR ❖ T HE S IUSLAW N EWS ❖ S IUSLAW N EWS
AW NE
RS
2020
A look back at 130 years
INSIDE EACH EDITION
S IUSLAW N EWS
THROUGH O CTOBER
OF
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SN
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1890
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SIUSLAW NEWS | WEDNESDAY, JULY 1, 2020 | 9A
AT I N G 1 30 Y
1894
“... Although prodigious puffing
was indulged in, it failed to blow
any sand into the eyes of an
experienced mill man.”
— The West, Vol. 5, No. 31
November 15, 1894
In an article in The West, Mr. Kline
was planning a new saw mill at Spruce
Point:
“The sand moan of our friends
over the river did not have much of
an effect on Mr. Kline, and although
prodigious puffing was indulged in, it
failed to blow any sand into the eyes
of an experienced mill man.
Mr. Kline informed his sympathet-
ic advisors that he had run a sawmill
larger than any on the Siuslaw, and it
was located on a sand plane almost as
bare as those to the south of us.
He laughs at the idea of sand inter-
fering with the cutting of logs in a mill
at Spruce Point.”
“He Got Turnip Seed”
— The West, Vol. 5, No. 23
August 8, 1894
“There is a gentleman who invol-
untarily started a farm. His front yard
was as barren of grass as Bill Bye’s
head is of any hirsute adornment.
With a view to having it green and
pretty, he went over to the agricultur-
al department and begged some lawn
seed, which were willingly given him.
He then returned, and with much
satisfaction and expectation planted
them. In a few days, the sprouts began
to show above the earth — but they
were very curious looking sprouts,
and they seemed as much like blades
of grass as a spade is like a pick. ...
In a few weeks there was more pros-
pect of having a vegetable garden than
a lawn. ... After a time it was discov-
ered that the man had received turnip
seed instead of grass seed.
1895
1896
1897
“Now and Then by a Siuslaw Pioneer”
— The West Vol. 7, No. 23 October 2, 1896
T
en years ago, the Siuslaw was but
a name, meaningless to all save a
few brave pioneers who, strong in their
faith that this was a land of
promise, struggled against
odds and endured hard-
ships and privations now
almost forgotten.
Florence consisted of
three or four tumble down
cabins and a small struc-
ture of rough boards that
serves as a salting house
for salmon. The nearest
schoolhouse was 15 miles
away. The only highway
was the river, and skiffs
and canoes afforded the
only means of transportation.
I well remember my first visit there,
and the impression the barren solitude
of the place made upon me -- the deso-
late wastes of sand, the cold winds, the
dark storm-twisted pines and the lone-
ly river. I little dreamed how dear these
were to become to me through associa-
tion.
The wind that chilled the stranger
cheered the dweller on the shore with
wild sea-songs of wondrous sweet-
ness. The sands, on close acquaintance,
changed from barren wastes to endless
hills of gold. The river became a friend
that gave new joy every day.
Before I had lived a month in my tiny
cabin under the pines on the Siuslaw, I
was in love with the loneliness. Ah! It
was a free life!
Nature had her own way there and we
fell in with her ever-changing moods,
and felt her great true mother-heart
beat close against our own. We ceased
to remember that there was a world
outside of this charmed spot to which
we belonged — and to which we might
some day return. There was never a day
that was not perfect, never a night but
brought new joy.
Still, there were times when we were
reminded of the outer world. On those
days when the mail came
in we walked up to the
post office, going along
the narrow river beach
when the tide was low, and
across the marsh to get
our letters and magazines.
There was something un-
real about that marsh; we
often spoke of it and of the
strange feeling we always
had when crossing it, as if
we beheld ourselves from
some far-off post of van-
tage two lonely dark fig-
ures amidst the solitude of sea and shore.
But all of this was 10 years ago.
It is very different now on the Siu-
slaw. The dim and dingy cabin with its
low eaves and tiny windows, where the
mail was handed out over piles of cali-
co, blue overalls and red flannel shirts,
is no more. In its stead are handsome
stores, elegant dwellings, a church, a
schoolhouse, a big square hotel in Flor-
ence and sidewalks. The small salting
house has grown into a great cannery
that sends its products out over all the
world. There are steamboats on the river
and a sister-town across the bay. There
is a WCTU, a Shakespeare Club and The
West, whose able editors hold no small
place among the memories of those far
days.
The Siuslaw of today is a recognized
locality and a factor in public affairs.
Yes, there have been changes.
In dreaming of those fruitful months
spent down there on the edge of the
world, I can recall only the dear delight,
the beauty, the freedom and charming
associations. If there was hardship or
deprivation, I have lost the recollection
of it.
— The West, Vol. 8, No. 2
January 1, 1897
Glenada Gleaning
— The West Vol. 8, No. 26
August 13, 1897
Wild blackberries are about gone
but tame ones are getting ripe.
Alaska fever is raging here but no
fatalities are reported.
There are no less than eight vari-
eties of wild berries growing here in
abundance.
Cool and pleasant weather. Surely
no person could find fault with this
part of Lane County in regard to the
weather.
A good looking young bache-
lor who by way has a nice ranch on
Fiddle Creek says he will accept any
young girl who will come and pro-
pose to him.
Mrs. J.L. Furnish, becoming dissat-
isfied with the local bank, deposited
a small amount of money in the (Siu-
slaw River) bank. She recovered most
of it at low tide.
We have had an enforced econo-
my during the last five years. In the
west it has been especially stringent.
But it has borne fruit. It has been an
adjunct of industry, a spur to activity,
an incentive to payment of debts and
a means of doing it. It is laying the ba-
sis of a new and better prosperity. The
lesson is one that was needed, and one
that will not soon be forgotten.
Florence Foursquare Church
Invites You
Florence
Foursquare Church
Service Times Are:
SUNDAY
10:45 a.m. Morning
Worship
Pastor George Pagel celebrating 30 years at
Florence Foursquare Church!
To Worship With Us!
1624 Hwy. 101 • 541-997-6337
www.florence4square.com