Dedicating Shearer Park

Yesterday (Oct 1, 2016), we dedicated Shearer park which has been in process for about eight years. Our family donated the land in Elk City a number of years ago and it has finally come to fruition. The potential for the park as a trail head with an ATV trail going all the way to Avery, ID is a pretty cool possibility.  For those outside of the area, this area of Idaho is definitely a wild area with a truly beautiful landscape.  This will not be a trip for the faint of heart.  I can't tell you how much this means to our family and we really have a lot of thanks for a bunch of people for making this happen.  Especially the "Framing our Community" of Elk City and the Dust Devils ATV club of Elk City.  We worked specifically with Joyce Dearstyne of "Framing our Community" and Mike and Arlene Evett of the Dust Devils ATV club. I am posting a few pictures of the occasion and the speech that I made.

This has always been a special place for my family.  From summers fishing, camping and swimming at Red River to winters where we enjoyed using sleds and the toboggan coming down that hill.  It would be pretty difficult to do that now as my brothers planted a few too many trees in their boy scout project over 40 years ago.

When my grandparents, Gwen and Cappy, sold the mill in 1978 and moved back to the LC Valley…they left a part of themselves here.  They worked for 20 years to build Shearer Lumber products.  They also spent those 20 years working on trying to improve the community that they adopted as their home.  If you knew Gwen and Cappy – they had no pretensions.  If you worked for Gwen Shearer at the mill, he expected you to work hard and give the best effort that you were capable of…he also expected the same of himself.  I would bet that there weren’t many jobs that he wasn’t capable of doing himself.  Grandma Cappy worked for many years as a teacher.  I suspect that if you were a student of hers – you would call her strict but a patient teacher.  That was the Grandma I knew…she didn’t tolerate a lot of nonsense but if you were curious to learn she had the most wonderful patience as you asked her question after question.  Education was an important part of my grandparents lives.  Grandpa Gwen was a member of the school board.  Grandma Cappy taught school and wrote a column for the Idaho Co., Free press for a number of years. 

When my grandmother graduated from high school in 1930 – she went to school at the Lewis Clark Normal.  Her parents had to butcher a hog to pay for tuition and she rode a horse to school.  Grandpa Gwen never had the opportunity to go any further in school.  Despite being his Senior Class President and one of the top students – there was no money.  It was a struggle to just have food on the table.  These experiences left an impression on them. In 1981, my grandparents set up a scholarship where one student from each of the high schools in Idaho county could earn a scholarship to the University of Idaho.  Over 100 students have received that scholarship to date.  In 1986, my grandfather was able to attend a University of Idaho graduation to see not only my brother, Russell, graduate but also those first scholarship students.  Our family is very proud of the Gwen and Capitola Shearer scholarship and the opportunities that it has given to those who have earned the scholarship and have gone onto productive lives. 

It has been about 30 years since we lost the Grandparents.  There have been a lot of changes during that time.  I can tell you that my grandparents would have heartily approved of the improvement of the recreational opportunities that the trail head will produce.  I am sorry that neither one of them ever got to enjoy the sheer fun of riding a ATV.  I can remember riding with my grandmother to the post office to get the mail in the winter time on the snow-cat…If she were here today, she would have certainly enjoyed the taking an ATV.  Grandpa Gwen would have definitely enjoyed the utility at the mill…but also during his hunting and fishing trips.  My grandparents loved this area and deeply cared about what happened here.  I know they would be pleased to see this park. 

I believe that there are two memorials to my grandparents now.  The scholarship is one that they created – and this park is one that the community they so loved created.  

Grandpa Gwen's Last Memorial Day

This is one of my least favorite pictures of my grandparents - but it is as they looked shortly before my grandmother died in 1985.  This is Gwen Shearer and Capitola Ester Friddle Tannahill Shearer!

We have always made a big deal out of Memorial Day in our family.  It was a time of work, visiting and family...that usually involved visits to the cemetery.  You might say that those memories helped me enjoy family history even more than I already do...because I remember those stories and there aren't a lot of family members who do anymore...because those are some of the graves that I visit.

My grandmother, Capitola Friddle Tannahill Shearer (FAG  #38384311) died in August of 1985 and she is buried up at Lewis Clark Memorial Gardens in the Lewiston Orchards (Lewiston, ID).  Shortly after she died, Grandpa Gwen asked my mother if she would like to have her father and brother (Bab Boy Shearer - stillborn - FAG #132465265) moved up to be next to Grandma Cappy.  Richard Tannahill (FAG #38384361) was my mother's natural father who died when she was six years old.  He was also Grandpa Gwen's best friend.  Mom said that when she was a child, she could always talk to Grandpa Gwen about her father.  Grandpa Gwen and my Mom ended up having a special Father/Daughter relationship.  I know that he is my step-grandfather - but he is the only grandfather that I have known.  When Grandpa Gwen asked Mom if she wanted her father moved to lie beside Grandma, I think it was something that she really didn't know she wanted.  So, the arrangements were made.  The funeral home even asked Mom if she wanted to be there when Grandpa Richard was exhumed...Mom said "Absolutely not!!!"

I have never forgotten Memorial Day in 1986.  My mother went all out - she gathered all of the funeral containers from Grandma Cappy's funeral and filled them with the roses that we already had blooming.  When we picked Grandpa Gwen up and went to the cemetery, you could tell that it was especially emotional for him.  I wasn't used to seeing that side of him, so it really made an impact. We set up a chair in front of Grandma's grave so he could sit, and then Mom went to work. Once we had finished decorating Grandma Cappy's grave, the baby's and Granny (Nettie Pearl Moody Shearer FAG# 62326075) and Pop Shearer (Floyd David Shearer FAG#62326029), you could tell that there was a comforting look of satisfaction on his face.  He then made the statement that "it was how it should be...Mama (Grandma Cappy) should have both of us with her!"  Grandpa Gwen then added "but there is no hurry to get there!"  I think that the month of May had been an especially difficult month in many ways.  My brother had graduated from college and I had begun my first year of college.  My grandparents had given us the opportunity to go to college without having to worry about the money to pay for it.  They also helped with a scholarship with Dist. 241 in Idaho Co., ID that gives one student out of each school a scholarship to the University of Idaho and to date there has been over 90 students who have gone to school with the Shearer Scholarship.  (See Graduation Day) The University of Idaho graduation of 1986 not only included my brother but some of those first students who had received the scholarship.  It was a bittersweet day because Grandpa Gwen had lived to see that day and attend that graduation, but my grandmother had not.

After we had gone and taken care of the graves down at Normal Hill Cemetery - (see OK, Pop, Turn Over and The Gravestone) we went out for an early dinner.  Grandpa Gwen decided to splurge and have a steak.  He really didn't have that great of an appetite, but he certainly made a good stab at it...and although there was steak left, that was probably one of the best meals he had had in quite some time...and the rest went home in a doggie bag.  It had been a good day.  He felt that the graves looked good and was satisfied with the day and perhaps life.

That was the last Memorial Day he was alive...he died in January of 1987 and perhaps that was one of his last really good days.  Grandpa was diagnosed with Alzheimers later in 1986 even though we suspected that he had had it a long time.  Mom and I used to make custard for him to have for breakfast.  We started out with bowl that he could spoon out the custard with...and then we had single custard cups, since he couldn't remember how to spoon it out.

Today it is my father and I who take care of the graves.  We have my mother, her parents, her grandparents and my father's parents and grandparents as well as several aunts, uncles, a few cousins and friends.  Almost all of them represent something special to me.  So Memorial Day for me is a chance to still tell stories and spend some time with my family.  It is certainly a duty...but also something that I choose to do.  If I didn't, I think my mother would come back and haunt me!

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today would have been my mother’s 74^th birthday or as she might have put it “the 45^th anniversary of her 29^th birthday!)  Mom (Betty Jean Tannahill Johnson) died on 26 Dec 2005 of lung cancer, so this is the 10^th birthday that we have been without her.  So much has happened in the last 10 years but in some ways it feels like we just lost her.

My Mom was many things.  She was probably one of the most creative and intelligent people that I have ever known.  Anything that she turned her attention to – she did well.  Mom was known as spectacular musician whose voice and talent is still remembered by those who heard her sing and play.  We had some of the most beautiful flowers and roses at our house when I was a teenager and young adult.  Like most things, it was impossible for Mom to only to what was necessary, she had to put her own touch on everything.  Mom got a computer for Christmas one year from Dad – it took her just a few weeks to get past the possibilities of that computer and pretty soon, Mom and Dad were taking a loan out for a state of the art computer and printer.  (This was back in 1980 – I think it cost $ 5,000 for the computer and the printer)  She did things on that computer that most people would never have attempted.  Mom was an early user of the internet, she scanned pictures, she did databases and spreadsheets and publishing all on a computer that operated on two 5 ¼ inch drives.  Mom was talented when it came to organization and used to organize her class reunions and managed the swim meets when I was a child.

Everyone in Mom's small family is gone.  Her father (Oliver Richard Tannahill) died in 1947 and stepfather(Gwen Dean Shearer)  in 1987.  We lost Grandma (Capitola Friddle Tannahill Shearer) in 1985 and Mom's sister (Joan Tannahill Kemp Towle Keeler) survived her by several years, but we lost her three years ago.  

Mom could also be incredible stubborn and impossibly demanding.  She was never satisfied with whatever she did and always wanted to improve on what she was doing.  I wish she would have stopped smoking many years before she did.  Even though she had quit 15 years before she died, it was still a smoker’s tumor that killed her.  We missed Mom so much during these past 10 years – at her grandchildren’s graduations from high school and two from college, two of their weddings.  I don’t have to pick a day to remember Mom, she is always there in my mind.  She has helped me make countless decisions through the years because of the things she taught me.  I have had several friends who have lost parents through the past years and I usually tell them that they will never stop missing them.  I then point out how lucky they were to have a parent like they had.  My mom was unique and only my siblings and I know all that she did for us.  I know that each one of us is thinking about her today and there might be a tear, but there is also a smile!

Probably the way I will always remember Mom - in red with her signature red lipstick!

Earliest picture of my mother - probably spring 1942  (She was born in 1941)

I am guessing Summer 1942 - Everyone has a bathtub baby picture, right?

Before the Beginning...

I began genealogy research back around 1996 with my mother.  We both began with installing Family Tree Maker and putting in everything that we knew.  We started hitting the local library to see what we could learn and even took my Dad down to Salt Lake City to experience the Family History Library.  It is easy to say that we began our research on that date, but truthfully it started much earlier than that.

Betty (Mom) lower left with her sister, Joan and mother Capitola. - at 1949

My mother spent a lot of her early years around her grandmother and grandfather and had the opportunity to learn family stories first hand.  She was always interested and involved with her grandparents and was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time with them.  They helped make my mother the person she became.  So essentially, Mom became a storehouse of information and that process didn't stop.  When she married my father, Mom quickly became an important member of Dad's family  I remember her telling me of a visit by her father in law (Frank Johnson) at one point where it was just the two of them.  She said that they sat at the kitchen table and talked about his family.  Mom got out a piece of paper and wrote down what he told her.  That piece of paper became the foundation of most of what we knew about my Grandpa Frank's family.  Mom remembered Grandpa thinking that his family history didn't quite measure up to Grandma Marian's family, so he felt surprised when Mom asked him.  We soon found out that his family was just as impressive as Grandma Marian's, but that would have taken us much longer to find out without the groundwork that my mother had done.

Dad with Grandma Marian and Grandpa Frank - abt 1957

Like my mother, I spent a lot of time listening to the stories of my family members.  I can remember as a child, sitting at the feet of my great grandmothers (Mom Friddle and Granny Shearer) and my mother's godmother (Aunty Jones).  These three ladies were born 1894, 1890, & 1889 respectively. Their stories about riding the stagecoach during their youth in the Lewiston area always stuck in y mind.  It was rather astonishing that it took a full day of travel to travel the same distance that took us 25 minutes in the car.  Later as a junior in high school, I remember getting the opportunity to ask my Grandma Cappy and Grandpa Gwen about their lives during the depression.  As Mom and I began researching, it was my turn to question my mother about the family stories that she had heard as a child.  For several years, we had my great uncle to question as well.  He always said that he didn't know that much, but he knew much more than he thought.

I had my Grandma Marian up until a few years ago and learned a wealth of family stories from her. She took a lot of joy out of the information that Mom and I found and later the information that I found...and participated in our research as well.

So now I have become the storehouse of family stories. Mom passed away almost 10 years ago, all of my grandparents are gone and many of the older family members are no longer with us  There are still a few living and I still try to take the opportunity to learn from them.  However, much of what we have found has been dependent on a lifelong interest in our family stories...and if Mom and I had never sat down and listened to the stories of our older family members, perhaps we wouldn't have the wealth of family history that we now have.  Even though my mother is no longer here, I still think of the genealogy research as "ours" because Mom and I began the journey together.  Before we began that research, we had several lifetimes of stories to start that journey!

Remembering Granny Shearer

Today would have been Nettie Pearl Moody Shearer's birthday  I knew her as Granny Shearer.  I always think of Granny around the holidays, probably because that is probably when I saw her the most.  She was born on 7 Dec 1890 and she died in 25 Nov 1980 and I was 13 years old.  I have written a blog about Granny before and I am posting links to those blogs.

Three Great Dames

The Most Important Women in My Life

My Beloved Granny

 One of the biggest impacts she had on my life is my love of cooking.  She took my mother when she was 8 years old and began to teach her to cook.  Her son, Gwen Dean Shearer, had married a widow (my grandmother Capitola Friddle Tannahill) and gave her two new granddaughters.  She immediately bonded with my mother and very soon, she had my mother standing on a stool helping to cook at logging camp.  My mother's love of cooking came from her.  Every Christmas and Thanksgiving, I make a salad that I am sure came from Granny. My niece has named it "Grandpa's Crappy Salad"

So here is how you make it:

1 Large box of Lemon Jello - follow the directions and use the set jello
2 containers of Cream Cheese - at room temperature
1/2 cup of finely chopped celery (you can use more if you like)

Take the set jello, put it in the mixer and whip it with softened cream cheese until combined.   After it is mixed together, then add the celery and mix by hand.

I don't mind the salad until you add the celery - but I must admit that it is an acquired taste.  My grandmother loved that salad as well.  Now, don't judge Granny's cooking by that salad :-)  I am pretty sure that it came out of the 1950's.

So...Happy Birthday Granny.

Taken abt 1949 - Left to right:  Cappy, Floyd (Granny's husband) , Betty, & Granny

Graduation Day

On May 13, 1989, I graduated from the University of Idaho with a Bachelors of Science in History and Minor in English.  It was the culmination of four years of school and it was a special day for my family.

My college career had a rocky start, my grandmother actually died the day I was supposed to go to college and get my dorm room.  I still remember driving the short 30 miles a bit later in the day with tears running down my face.  When the funeral happened a few days later, my brother and I both had to leave and go up and take care of registration.  Back then, computers weren't that common and registration occurred on the floor of the football stadium that is called the "Kibbie Dome!"  It was a mind blowing experience, especially for a freshman who had never seen anything like it.  I was fortunate,  I had my brother to guide me through and I survived the experience.  During the next few years - I provided the same assistance to several freshmen as I never forgot the experience.

I was not the first or even the second to graduate from college in my family.  My grandmother had graduated from the Lewis Clark Normal in 1932.  When she went to school, her father butchered a hog to pay for tuition and she rode her horse to school.  Her mother and she picked lettuce for three summers to save enough money to buy a piano so she could learn music - which would help her get hired as a teacher.

There was nothing so dramatic when my brother went to school.  He had his own tribulations - but his graduation in 1986 was a triumph - and not just because of him.  My grandfather had lived on his own after my grandmother had died.  Looking back, he really shouldn't have been living on his own.  Grandpa had numerous health problems and his days were involved with the various treatments of his blood disease and diabetes.  Back in the early 1980's, Grandma Cappy and Grandpa Gwen donated a sum of money to the University of Idaho to provide a three scholarships for District #241.  This was the school district where my Grandpa had been on the school board for 25 years and my Grandma had taught school at one of the elementary schools.

Gwen Shearer & Capitola Friddle Shearer - My grandparents

 Every year, one student from each of the three high schools in the district, got a 4 year full scholarship to the University of Idaho.  It didn't matter if they were going to teach, become an engineer or lawyer - all that mattered was that they came from that district and were going to school at the University of Idaho.  It was something that gave my grandparents a great deal of satisfaction and something we as a family was very proud of.  During that graduation in 1986, the first class of these scholarship students was going to graduate.  So, my parents made arrangements to get my grandfather physically as close to the Kibbie Dome where the graduation was being held and made arrangements for someone to transport him up to the doors.  Mom had some food with her in case his blood sugar dropped (which it did) and they made it so a fragile old man could see his first grandson graduate from college but also see the first of those scholarship students graduate.  He said he was doing it for both he and grandma - and it wasn't an easy thing for him to do physically - but he did it anyway.  Eight months later, he passed away.

My brother, Russell with my Grandpa Gwen Shearer, and mother Betty Johnson

In many ways, I was like those scholarship students.  My grandparents provided the money for me, my siblings and cousins to go to college without the worry of college loans.  I saw a lot of friends who had a lot more of a struggle.  While it was much cheaper back then, I realized that I had been very fortunate.

I don't enjoy being the center of attention - and I was incredibly nervous.  I was sure that I would trip and fall in front of the entire crowd...so I didn't sleep that much.  Neither did my one year old niece - she was teething and I remember her being just a bit too much like me in terms of being reluctant to go to sleep.

My niece going up the stairs on the morning of my graduation.  You couldn't keep her down!

 When I walked into the Kibbie Dome during graduation procession, I looked up in the crowd trying to see my family and it would have been a hopeless cause, except my sister-in-law was holding up my 5 1/2 old nephew so I could see my family.  Since I was graduating in the centennial year of the university, I got a medal signifying the event.  My brother said that it wasn't quite fair - he didn't get a metal.  My mother told him that she didn't have a professor walk up and tell her that he was a pleasure to have in class like I did!  (One of my Professors came over and gave me a hug and told my mother that I was one of her favorite students and that she loved having me in class - it is always great to hear nice things from people you respect) Looking back, I find it interesting that two of my clearest memories of that day are connected with my niece and nephew.  That niece also went on to graduate from the University of Idaho...and next year, I will be able to go and see her brother graduate from the University of Idaho as well.

After the ceremony - at home with the beautiful cake that my sister-in-law made.

So, today I think about 25 years ago and going up to get my diploma and knowing that I had my family there to see it happen.  I also think of how lucky I was to have grandparents who gave me, my siblings and cousins the opportunity for education.  Since they set up that scholarship - about 90 students have graduated.  That is quite a legacy for them to leave behind.

The Mill at Orofino, ID

Office at Orofino Mill

My family is a timber family.  We have been involved in the industry in one capacity or another for the last 90 years.  Primarily it was my step grandfather but my father and brother have also been involved in the industry as well as several uncles, cousins, etc.  I think that the first time that my Grandpa Gwen had a mill of some sort was probably in the early 1930’s when he had what was called a one-horse mill near Culdesac, ID.  I really don’t much more about it than just that.  I know that during the 1940’s he owned a mill up on McCormick Ridge in the present day Waha area.  His best friend trucked the lumber down (he was my natural grandfather, Richard Tannahill) and much of the lumber was sold at my grandmother’s lumber lot.  Grandpa Gwen gave up that mill in 1949 and began a mill in Orofino, ID in the Black Pine area. 

Mill at Orofino, ID

Some of my mother’s favorite child hood memories were involved with spending a few weeks in the summer up at McCormick Ridge helping Granny Shearer with the cooking for the men.  When Grandpa Gwen bought the mill in Orofino – much of his time was spent during the week working at the mill and he was successful.  My grandmother notes in her diary near the end of 1954:

“1954 has been a very fine and prosperous year for us.  At the beginning of 1954 we owed around $ 85,000 as a result of our 1954 remodeling of the mill – converting to band and all electric power. 

We have been able to pay off all indebtedness incurred as a result of this change over everything except our Mortgage at the bank on the real estate.

We set up a bookkeeping system with a fine and adequate set of books – but the office and got into around the first of April with Linda as a bookkeeper.

We incorporated July 1^st to help reduce our income tax.

We ran two shifts at the mill from July 6th until fall. “

Taken sometime during the 1950's  Orofino, ID

Grandpa Gwen spent a lot of time going back and forth between Orofino and Lewiston and it seemed that 1954 was a year that they spent modernizing the mill and making it more profitable…which has to be the primary goal for a business man.

Then on November 23, 1955…tragedy struck…my grandmother noted in her diary:

“Mill Fire we had a rude awakening at 6:00 AM when Marian called that the mill had burned down.  We got there at 8:15 – the fire department still pouring water on the remains. 

It was discovered around 5:30 just before it exploded throwing fire in every direction.

The office has been a mad house with people coming and going all day and the telephone busy.  

There’s certainly a lot of sad men.

The green chain and the new fuel bin which was to have gone into operation on Monday are left intact."

This happened the day before Thanksgiving and Grandma notes on 25 Nov 1955 - the day after Thanksgiving:

We went up today – Mom the girls and I to let them see the mill or what remains of it…We will get about $ 88,000 out of the Insurance.  Then the next day:  Father is downtown checking on possibilities of future mill site to build again.  Everyone asks us what our plans to build are…Gwen doesn't know himself as yet.

What followed over the next few years were probably the hardest points in my grandparent’s lives.  With the loss of the mill and the building of the new one in Elk City, ID – money was tight.  My grandmother went back to school to get re-certified as a teacher and worked immediately as a substitute teacher.  They faced bankruptcy and spent the next 10 years rebuilding their business and life.  It is a tribute to their hard work and smart business acumen that the new mill that they built in Elk City was a modern and technologically advanced mill for the time.  I know that Grandpa Gwen was looking into the possibilities of the mill before his Orofino mill burned down – but I have to wonder…would the outcome of been different if that mill hadn't burned down in Orofino!

Little is left of my Grandpa's mill at Orofino - Dad and I drove by the site this
past weekend - and this is all that remains of that mill.

Three Great Dames - Happy Thanksgiving

When I was a child, I don't really have a memory of a bad Thanksgiving.  I know that the day had to be very stressful for my mother...but it was a good kind of stress.  She had four little kids running around and eventually we learned to not bother her.  Usually my Mom's parents would join us and my grandmother would make the pies and a salad.  For a few years, we had three of the grandest old ladies for the dinner.

Mom Friddle (Sophie Dollar Friddle), Aunty Jones (Glenthora Stranahan Jones) and Granny (Nettie Moody Shearer) used to sit on the couch and visit.  I can remember sitting on the floor listening to them tell stories.  One that sticks out in my mind was about them taking the stagecoach.  Mom Friddle didn't move to the area until a bit later, but Aunty Jones and Granny lived in the region since the 1890's.  There first stop out of Lewiston was the 21 Ranch which is about 22 miles south of town, then they would stay the next night at Winchester and by the third night they would make it to Grangeville.  This is a trip that takes about an hour now...but back then it was three days.

These three ladies helped inspire my love of history and they have been topics for me for my blog.  Today on Thanksgiving - I would like to remember these three grand dames of my childhood.

Granny was born in 1890 in Missouri and was actually my step great grandmother.  She was sure a special lady and when I see little Christmas trees, I will always think of her.

My Beloved Granny

My sister, Gwenda and Aunty Jones.

Aunty Jones was my mother's godmother...at least that was what she claimed.  She had a long history here in the Lewiston - Clark Valley and lived to be probably the oldest person that I knew when she died at 99 years old.  Every years she would give each of us kids a $5 and a bag of oranges.  She was a fascinating woman to talk to...I only wish I would have been a little older so I could have asked her more questions and could remember the answers.

Uncle Henry & Aunty Jones

I have probable told more stories and have learned more about Mom Friddle than any other person from my childhood.  She was my mother's hero and everyone in the family has a great story about her.  She is another person that I wish I could have asked more questions.  There is no question that she has had an impact on my life and I can't help thinking that I wish I was more like her.  The word "can't" wasn't in her vocabulary.

119 Years Ago...today!

Cemetery Tales - Pataha Flat

I decided to take a drive Sunday afternoon…you might say my destination was a familiar one – at least on the surface.  Throughout my lifetime, I have driven through Pomeroy from Lewiston going west mostly to Canby, OR.  As a youngster, it was merely a landmark on a long car trip…today, it is much more.  I recognize a place that was a home to some of my family members.

Pomeroy, WA is the only incorporated town in Garfield Co., WA.  It became a town in May 1878 and was officially incorporated on 3 Feb 1886.  Garfield Co., WA is the smallest county in the state of Washington in terms of population.  It is a lovely little town full of old homes, old buildings with character and one of the most beautiful court houses in the area.  It is also the place where my great grandparents moved to after living up on Grouse Flats in neighboring Wallowa Co., OR.  They went there so their son could graduate from high school (Jasper James “Jack” Friddle) and was also the place that several members of the Friddle family lived.  It is interesting to note that my sister-in-law’s family also came from the Pomeroy, WA area as well.  As I have learned more about my families’ history, I recognize the significance of this little town.

Garfield County, Washington Courthouse

Two Views of the Pataha Flat Schoolhouse

Pataha Flat - Established 1865

One of the first times that I can remember going to Pomeroy as a destination to somewhere other than further west…Mom and I learned that her step-father’s family were buried up at the Pataha Flat cemetery which is a few miles outside Pomeroy.  As you climb the hill towards Pataha Flat, you experience what is like living in the Palouse hills.  There are many communities that rest at the bottom of a valley and farmland encompasses the hills surrounding the region.  It is truly some of the best farm land in the world and during the hot July afternoon it was obvious that wheat harvesting was well under way.  Usually you can look around 100 miles in several directions on a clear day and see several landmarks clearly…but not on Sunday.  The dust from harvesting and the few grass fires that have occurred during the past week have created a haze on every horizon.  When I reached the top of the ridge, I looked for the old schoolhouse. To my sorrow the old schoolhouse doesn't look so good anymore.  It is probably around 100 years old and was probably in use up until the advent of electricity.  Perhaps it was even around before the turn of the century and my step grandfather’s relatives attended the school.  It is a landmark that signals that is time to turn east and head a few hundred feet down to the Pataha Flat cemetery. 

Jesse Green Shearer -
My Step Grandfathers - Grandfather

Joel Sturges Shearer - Jesse Green's father

The first time we visited this cemetery we looked around and until we found the cache of Shearer graves.  It was there we saw my step grandfather’s grave as well as that of his father.  Also in the same area were several Crumpacker graves but that of Cassandra Arrasmith Crumpacker didn't seem to be around there.  We took pictures of the Shearer graves and then headed home.  After we headed home, it was time to do a bit more research on the family.  Initially family legend said that Cassandra Arrasmith had been killed along the Oregon Trail…however; this didn't seem to be the case.  With a little research, I found that Cassandra Arrasmith was originally married to William Crumpacker on 21 Dec 1843 in Linn, Osage Co., MO.  They were the parents of nine children and after his death on 3 Mar 1862; Cassandra gave birth to twin girls on 20 Jul 1862.  Within a year, she gathered her children and began her trek across the Oregon Trail.  Within a short time after her arrival in the Washington territory, Cassandra married B. F. Newland and on 3 Mar 1876, she married Schuyler Woolery.  Finally on 23 Jun 1889, Cassandra married John Lewis Tewalt, her daughter’s father in law…so knowing this, I made another trip to Pataha Flat and searched to find Cassander Tewalt in the Pataha cemetery.   It took me a while to find the middle two husbands, but finding this grave was definitely proof that Cassandra didn’t die on the Oregon Trail during her journey west.

Cassandra Arrasmith Tewalt's Grave

So, there in the tiny country cemetery are my step grandfather’s relatives.  I’m sure he must have known about them, but I don’t ever recall him going there.   The biggest mystery that I had after untangling Cassandra’s life was wondering what had happened to Jesse Green Shearer.  I knew that he had died young by his gravestone and left his wife, Mary Crumpacker a widow at the age of 26.  It wasn't until this past year when I located Mary Crumpacker Shearer Earl’s obituary that I discovered that Jesse Green Shearer had died of pneumonia.  It is surprising to note that the Pataha Flat Cemetery is still an active cemetery and there are still burials that have been made there during the last 20 years.  After a perusal of some of the newer burials, I find that I am going to have to make another trip perhaps in the spring.  I just discovered another cousin buried there.  When I visited Sunday, I didn’t walk through the cemetery – too much grass and much too cautious of the possibility of snakes.  I suspect I will have to until Memorial Day next spring, when it is ready for visitors to see if I can locate that cousins’ grave!

Home Cooking

My mother died seven and ½ years ago and every day I seem to be reminded of her in some way.  Sometimes it is just a few words that she used to say, a picture, an important family event or perhaps something that I think she would have liked.  This past Saturday we celebrated another important family occasion – the marriage of my nephew.  I know my Mom was there in spirit…but it would have been so much better if she could have been there in person.  My niece’s husband made the comment to me that he thought he would have really loved my Mom…partly because of the food that she used to make that we have described to him.  At the time, I thought that was a sweet comment…but it made me think a bit about my mother’s cooking.

Mom and Grandma Cappy in the kitchen

Mom really didn't learn to cook from her mother.  Grandma Cappy most likely felt that cooking was a job and not something that she particularly enjoyed.  Mom’s grandmother, Mom Friddle, probably had a more negative opinion about cooking…as she never really learned how and probably didn't care all that much.  However, when Grandma Cappy married Gwen Shearer after the death of her husband, Richard Tannahill…my mother gained a grandmother who loved to cook and was very good at it.

When Mom was eight years old, she spent a few weeks up at the Grandpa Gwen’s lumber mill on McCormick Ridge in Waha near Lewiston, ID.  Mom said that she spent a lot of time playing with the frogs and wondering around the woods…but she spent most of the time with her new grandmother.  Granny, as we always called her, was the camp cook for her son.  I think there were about 15 men who worked there and every day Granny would make three meals to feed these men.  A hearty breakfast was always in order as well as lunch and a good dinner.  Granny started at that point to teach Mom a bit about cooking.  So, she took a bucket and turned it over and Mom climbed on top and began peeling potatoes.  Before long, Mom was making the whole meal under Granny’s tutelage.  Thus at eight years old, Mom learned the basics of cooking and also the love of cooking.

Above - Granny Shearer - Below - Cook Cabin at McCormick Ridge, Waha, ID 

Growing up, it was always exciting when Mom got a new cookbook.  Soon the experimentation would start and we would get to try all kinds of new and different things.  One of my favorite dishes that came out of a recipe found in a magazine was her Bavarian Egg Nog.  It is a jelled Egg Nog salad with just a touch of rum.  To this day, no Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner is complete without the Egg Nog.  My siblings and I all still love the dish…I don’t think that their wives or kids have the same type of fondness for the dish.  I am the youngest of four children and all of our birthdays are within a month of each other – so from mid January to mid February there are four Johnson birthdays.  As we got older, Mom would make each one of us our cake of choice.  Out of the four birthdays, there were at least two that had to have Chocolate cake with German Chocolate frosting.  The chocolate cake was made with beets and was always a big hit…but the frosting was really popular.  Mom would make a double batch of frosting because all too often each one of us kids would take a large swipe of the frosting and there wouldn't be any left for the birthday party.

Mom did a great job with the standard dishes…always adding her own twist.  She taught me to make her potato salad and deviled eggs…her meatloaf and Dad’s favorite stuffed peppers.  I learned how to make an apple pie and pumpkin pie and make fudge…all under her tutelage.  Mom gave me the cooking skills to try just about anything in the kitchen.  Sometimes I succeeded and sometimes I failed…but I was always learning something else.

This weekend I am going to cook dinner for my nephew.  A few years ago, I introduced him to my mother’s hash.  My nephew not only loved it…he requested it for his birthday meal last year from me.  He astonished me by eating three platefuls and took the rest back home.  My brother said that he shared the apple pie that I had made…but he wouldn't share the hash.  My other brother visited not too long after the first time that I had made the hash for my nephew…and begged me to make it for him…which I did after a little wheedling. 

There are a lot of family members who tell me that I am a good cook. 

Ready for Thanksgiving Dinner...and Mom's Egg Nog

I suppose I am…but not really because anything that I have really done.  I had a wonderful teacher who taught me several tricks that I am have employed quite often.  I am asked quite often for a recipe that mostly came out of my experience cooking…and have to admit that I will have to try and write it down because I don’t have a recipe that I follow.  There are a lot of home cooks out there like me who were lucky enough to learn how to cook from a Mom…or others who learned from a Granny.  I worry sometimes that the skills will be lost by some of the younger generations…but I remember that there are still some Mom’s, Grandmothers, and maybe some aunts out there who still enjoy cooking and passing their tricks on to a new generation.   So, as I prepare meals, bake deserts or cookies, or perhaps make a snack – I remember my Mom…she was my teacher and every time my cooking is complimented…I thank Mom for having taught me how to cook! 

Happy 100th Birthday, Grandpa Gwen!

Gwen Shearer - Graduation - 1931

I loved my Grandpa Gwen.  As a child, I recognized that there was never anything that was simple or easy about Grandpa…and that became even more apparent the more I knew of him.  Today would have been his 100^th birthday.   Gwen Dean Shearer was born in Anatone, Asotin Co., WA on 20 May 1913 to Nettie Pearl Moody and Floyd David Shearer.   He was the middle of three sons with an older brother named Buford Carl Shearer and a younger brother named Aaron Lee Shearer.  They moved from Anatone out to the Tom Beall Road near Lapwai when he was still a young boy.  I don’t know if there was anything happy or frivolous about Grandpa’s childhood.  His father was an often cruel and hard man and Gwen’s beloved mother and brothers were often the target of his cruelty.   Grandpa Gwen graduated from Lapwai High School in 1931 as the Class President, and probably left his parent’s home as soon as he was able. 

There isn’t a lot I know about his 20’s.  I know that he worked for a while as a butcher and also as a deputy for either the county or the city.  I also know that he had what was probably his first sawmill just outside of Culdesac.  I learned probably after he had died, that Grandpa had been married to someone else before my grandmother.  He had married Imogene Painter probably around 1940 and they were divorced before 1945.  The funny thing is…my grandparents were very good friends with Imogene Painter and her second husband Clyde Sweet.  Grandpa even bought his cars from him.  In the early 1940’s, I think Grandpa Gwen started his mill up on McCormack Ridge.  I know that he was close friends with my natural grandfather (Richard Tannahill) because they worked rather closely together.  Grandpa Richard would haul the lumber down from Grandpa Gwen’s mill and I know that a lot of it was sold at Grandma Cappy’s lumber yard.  When Grandpa Richard died in 1946 in a hunting accident (Daddy’s Gone), Grandpa Gwen and Grandma Cappy must have drifted together and they married about a year later on 12 Sep 1948. 



Gwen with Betty (Left)  & Joan (Right)

I don’t think that my grandparent’s marriage was ever an easy one.  Both were strong willed people.  While I think Grandpa Gwen appreciated my grandmother’s intelligence, business acumen, and people skills – he had a very difficult time communicating affection.  They tried to have a child not too long after they married and the baby boy was born dead.  That was the only natural child that Grandpa Gwen had.  When he married my grandmother, he gained two step daughters.  There was never much of an emotional connection with the oldest (my aunt Joan) but he definitely connected with my mother, Betty.  I think that my mother always knew that her step father loved her…but I am not sure he was ever able to show it.  Grandpa Gwen’s childhood made him a very difficult person to understand and be close to.  Grandpa Gwen had exceptionally high standards for his step daughters and wife…but also for himself.  Those standards were often very hard to match.

Gwen & Cappy - abt 1968

Grandpa Gwen closed the sawmill on McCormack Ridge in 1949, and worked exclusively at his mill in Orofino, Idaho.  For the next several years, he commuted home on the weekends while working up at Orofino during the week.  On Thanksgiving day in 1956, the Orofino mill burned to the ground.  For a man who could be somewhat difficult to be around when he was gone most of the week working…became very difficult to be around when he had little to do.  He had been pursuing a large timber purchase in the Clearwater National Forest at about the same time.  That purchase came through and in 1957, he began building his mill at Elk City, ID. Within a few years, Grandma moved up there with him full time.  While they had some difficult financial struggle for a time, the mill became a success. 

Gwen at his Elk City mill.

In the early 1970’s, Grandma and Grandpa began building a new home.  It was to be at the top of the hillside and was to be their dream home.  They moved into that home in 1972.  I can remember going up there as a young child and wandering all over the yard and driveway looking for rocks or climbing down the hill to snitch some of Grandma’s strawberries.  There were wonderful summers of going up to see the Grandparents and spending time fishing and camping.  There were wonderful Christmas’s playing in the snow and the toboggan that they bought us.  Those  Elk City Christmas’s were special to all of us.  I remember one occasion when I was up staying with my grandparents one summer when Grandma and I went to town.  We picked up the mail and a few items at the local store and Grandma bought be a red squirt gun.  Grandpa Gwen wasn’t the type who was openly affectionate or playful…but that red squirt gun brought it out of him.  When we got home, he was

The Red Squirt Gun

sitting in his chair reading the newspaper and I crept up behind him and aimed my new red squirt gun at his bald head.  Pretty soon, I found myself captured and my red squirt gun was confiscated.  He then attacked me unawares…and I was able to get it back and retaliate.  Before I left to go home…Grandpa had got the squirt gun back.   When we returned at Christmas time…he had stored some water in the fridge to make it very cold and came down one early morning and promptly woke my sister and I up with an icy blast.  Since we were now part of the fun, we all went in and quietly and Grandpa did the same to my brothers.  It took several squirts of cold water for one of my brothers to finally awaken.  For a few years we traded the squirt gun back and forth…until they moved down from Elk City to Clarkston, WA when I finally got the squirt gun back.  Even then, I knew that it was something special and I put it in my jewelry box.  I suppose that is why I still have it to this day.

Grandpa Gwen & Grandma Cappy - abt 1982

Illness struck my Grandpa Gwen in the seventies with a heart attack.  He retired and my grandparents moved back to the Lewis Clark Valley.  They moved into a home and took a dream vacation to Alaska.  When they returned home, they found that Grandpa had a blood disease and would have to have blood transfusions ever three weeks for the rest of his life.  After that, their life was full of doctor appointments, blood transfusions and some family activities.  A few years later, Grandma got ill as well.  As she got sicker, Grandpa Gwen took such wonderful and loving care of her.  For the first time in their lives – they were no longer battling but instead taking care of each other.  When Grandma suffered that heart attack on the August day in 1985, Grandpa Gwen was alone.  While we had noticed changes in his personality for several years, it became much more noticeable.  We knew that something else was wrong, but his strong will and determination was difficult to overcome.  In late 1986, Grandpa had to go into the hospital and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.  The diagnosis wasn’t a shock to us, but his quick disintegration was.  It seemed within a few weeks that he had difficulty knowing who we were.  We would walk into the room and he would be talking to my grandmother as if she was still there with him.  He was moved over to the Lewiston hospital a few weeks later and one morning in late January 1987 he passed away.

My Favorite picture - Taken in the 1950's
in the Redwoods.  

After my grandmother’s death, Grandpa Gwen told my Dad that when the time came, he would really prefer if Dad just went out and built him an old fashioned pine box.  Grandpa wanted something simple and not overly churchy...he always felt closer to God in the forest. Mom and Dad kept that in mind and when he had died, they chose a simple wooden casket to reflect my Grandpa’s wishes with a simple service.  During his service, Grandpa’s business colleagues and friends heard about a different Gwen Shearer than the one they knew.  As they walked out, they commented to each other that they had never heard of Gwen Shearer doing something as silly as playing with a squirt gun…my Dad’s uncle who was also a good friend of my grandfather’s just looked at them at told them…Gwen Shearer wasn’t your grandpa…he was theirs!  So Grandpa…on your 100^th birthday…I am not going to remember you as were during your last years…but rather, I’m going to think of you waking me up with that squirt gun and playing with your grandchildren in the snow.

A Container for Everything

There is a fascination in today’s society with hoarders.  Those who can’t bear to throw something away because they compulsively believe that they need that item.  The photos of some of the homes that are completed crowded with stuff is an appalling thing to see.  If we are honest with ourselves…there are many of us who have a problem with hoarding…just not to the extent that we see on the television. 

Grandma Cappy lived through the depression.  During her teenage years, her family was in pretty good shape compared to many, because they usually had food to eat.  Her parents were believers in gardens and when they moved off of Grouse Flats (Wallowa Co., OR) in the early 1920’s, they were able to grow their own food in the gardens.  It must have been easier when they moved to Lewiston, ID in the late 1920’s.  Grandma graduated from high school in 1929.  When she went to Teacher’s College at the Lewis Clark Normal (Lewis Clark State College today) her father butchered a pig to pay for her schooling.  So, needless to say, Grandma learned how to live very frugally at a young age.

When I was a child, I can remember walking into my Grandma’s kitchen and seeing stack upon stack of cottage cheese containers, margarine containers, milk cartons and other assorted containers all stacked neatly on the counter.  There weren’t just a few…there were several of each.  On her table by the window, were stacks of newspaper clippings waiting for her to put into one of her scrapbooks. 

When she and Grandpa Gwen moved out of the house in Lewiston – it was time to clean up ten plus years of stuff.  There were National Geographic magazines, saved newspapers and numerous other bits and pieces.  Dad hauled two loads of “stuff” to the dump.  I don’t remember seeing all of that stuff…except on the kitchen counters.  Grandma kept things pretty well hidden away…but her refrigerator was dangerous.  I knew at a young age to be wary of anything that came out of her refrigerator.  When you opened her refrigerator door, there were margarine containers, cool whip containers, and numerous packages mysteriously wrapped in tin foil.  There was fresh food in there as well…but who knew how long the food in those containers had been in there.  I remember one time that my grandmother made meatloaf and my family had stopped by on our way to camping.  My best friend…who was the pickiest eater in the world…asked for seconds of my grandmother’s meatloaf.  I doubted that I even had a full helping.  I had seen her make that meatloaf.  She took all kinds of meat out of her refrigerator and put it through a grinder.  Frankly, it smelled suspiciously like dog food to me.  I remember when I was older that she gave my father some watermelon that had hair growing on it.  Mom took it away from him before he could even try to eat it. 

Not only did she save containers, magazine and newspapers…she saved food.  If she thought it could be used, it was stored away in the fridge.  I suppose that is one of the reasons that I am more apt to throw food away if I have the least doubt about it.  Grandma just never quite changed her mind set after living through the depression.  I even saw my other grandmother save containers and use them the same way.  When Grandma Cappy died…we started cleaning out her kitchen.  There were piles of old plastic containers.  She had stuffed things in the dishwasher because it was an appliance that she really didn’t see the need for. 

Every once in a while, I pick up a scrap album full of newspaper clippings.  I can’t help myself but start thumbing through them.  I have found some great information in those scrap albums from obituaries to interesting local history.  I have to wonder if I am so different from my grandmother.  Instead of containers, I stockpile digital pictures, documents, and email.  I also have real problem getting rid of favorite books.  So, perhaps Grandma was the only hoarder…I have boxes of stuff that not only belonged to both of my Grandmothers…but my mother and me.  So, perhaps the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree!