I know it is very unusual that I should attempt to give you some of my experiences and memories of my boyhood days here in Jacksonville, seeing like those days compare with the way they live in this generation should be forgotten, but there seems to be a period from about 1900 to 1920 that is not recorded in any Jacksonville history books. I do not intend to write history by any means, but someday there may be some who would be interested to know how we managed to live and survive compared to the way people live at the present time. This is May 20, 1970.
    My father came to this country in 1863 at age 16, a young German determined to become an American citizen, sick of the Kaiser period in Germany at that time. He worked his way to this country in an old sailboat, which took 5 weeks, 5 days, & landed in New York with hardly any money, could not speak a word of English, did not know anyone in this country except a cousin in Illinois, which he managed to get there somehow. While there he attended night school and learned to speak English very well. My mother, also from Germany, was 16 years old when she came to America. Her father was a farmer, and passed away the year before. Her brother took over the farm and paid the fare for her and her mother to her mother's sister who lived in Nebraska. Their names were Steinmeyers. They had taken up lots of farm land in Nebraska and needed plenty of help. My mother's mother died a year after they came to Steinmeyers'. In those days there was no doctor for miles in Nebraska. So Mother was an orphan, who had to work in the fields in the daytime and kept with the kitchen work at night.
    My father had somehow been there working for Steinmeyers. They had gotten together and managed to leave the Steinmeyers and get married. They took up a homestead in Nebraska and lived on it for six years. Four children were born in this time. They sold out the homestead and moved to Santa Cruz, California. They bought a farm there and stayed 6 years, but the climate was too wet for them. Here they had 2 more children. They sold out well and came to Jacksonville in 1885. They had known somehow of lots of German families here in Jacksonville and the valley. Dad purchased 3/35 acres just outside the city limits and a 200-foot lot with an old house on it here in Jacksonville. From here is some of the experiences that happened in Jacksonville. Three more children were added to this family including myself, 9 in all.
    I realize my crude language is not like a writer uses, but I am not an educated man; what little I know I just picked up here and there. My schooling was started in the first old wooden school on the hill. There were 2 rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs. I don't remember just when that school burnt down. It was about 1899; I was in the third grade. They established a temporary school in the old Times building until they built a new school house. Then, the year 1903, that building burnt down. We were then stationed in temporary quarters in the so-called old church on the upper corner of Chinatown. Then I finished up to the 8th grade in the present school on the hill.
    Discipline in the school was very strict. Any kid a little out of order was sent to the professor. He did not ask any questions, he just got out his mule rawhide whip and beat the kids until he was exhausted. Other times he would sneak in the back door of the room, and if he saw any kid that did not have his nose in a book he would grab him by the collar and shake the daylights out of him and then slam him down in his seat. Seems like we lived in a state of fear. No one seemed to care much if you learned much or not. School always seemed a bore to me--reading, writing, spelling, geography, physiology seemed to be it.
    In those days actual experience in doing things always seemed to me like the best of education. No one seemed too much interested in making a lot of money, because there was not too much around. The objective in life at that time was if you could make a decent living and money enough as you went along to pay taxes and expenses was good enough. The ones who went to the two years in the high school were to be teachers. What few lawyers or so-called educated fools were starving to death.
    There was a big picket fence around the school grounds and from the gate up to the school building. The girls played on one side and the boys on the other; no one ever dared to cross border lines. There was a well on the flat close to the gate with a pitcher pump. No drinking cup, but everyone pumped the pitcher pump part full with his hand over the front of the pump and drank out of the pump, then let the rest of the water go on the platform and back down in the well. Recreation for the girls was jump rope, drop the handkerchief, tag, hop scotch and stuff like that, and the boys liked skating in the mud, marbles, spinning tops, swinging from trees, kicking a blown-up hog bladder for a football, baseball, bullfrog and just standing around eating apples.
    The toilets was one on the girls' side and one on the boys' side. I don't think they were ever cleaned out--lots of flies--they were just holes in the ground with an old-fashioned privy with three holes. They didn't have toilet paper in those days yet, so each boy when he went there had to be sure he tore a leaf out of his tablet.
    The first school bell rang at 8:30, then at 9 a.m. everyone made a dash for the school and stood in line up in front of the building, every room a separate line. You was supposed to have your proper place in your line according to where you sat when you got inside. When everyone was in their proper place the drums started and we marched in the room and stood by our seats until the teacher said be seated. It was work then until 15 minutes to ten o'clock. Recess bell was sounded[, and] we left the building, stood in line outside until everyone was out. Then the professor would say dismissed, then at ten o'clock and at 12 noon, 1 p.m., 15 minutes to 2, 2 p.m., 4 p.m. the same procedure.
    I was always too much of a nature boy to be interested in all that. I would dream more of snaring lizards on rail fences, which there were a lot of[, and] making willow whistles. We made two kinds, one with holes played like more modern tin whistles, and one slid back and forth like a trombone. At one time we had a willow whistle band with Pinto Colvig as conductor. He would write the music. Instead of notes he would use numbers; every hole on the thing would have a number, and that would correspond to the number on the music.
    One summer Pinto organized a kid circus--trained dogs, trapeze, snake man, magician, and our whistle band played. Pinto was band leader, blackface clown and ringmaster with a big whip he would crack. As I remember the admission was two sticks of gum or 10 marbles.
    Kids didn't have money to spend as they do now, candy bars, soda pop & etc. were unknown. If we were thirsty we drank water. We made our own tops, our sleds, boomerangs, darts, bow & arrows, bow & arrow guns--they were something sawed out of a board grooved on top for arrow[s, and] a bow in the front. The arrows were always capped with a nail, and with a trigger and sights we could knock a pigeon's head off at the top of a big barn.
    There were lots of big barns around here at [the] time and a big flock of pigeons in every barn. Our barns were full along with the others. During the summer lots of young pigeons were hatched; we would always get the young birds just before they started to fly and sell them to the Chinese cook at the U.S. Hotel. In the back of the hotel there was a big barn that the overnight guests could keep their horses [in,] and the Chinaman cook had hundreds of pigeons. In the fall they would feed in the grain fields close by, and on Sundays sportsmen from town would come down to our place and just sit in the shade under a tree and shoot pigeons as they would fly from the hotel to the fields. The Chinaman cook would always pay us twenty-five cents for a pair of young pigeons.
    Chinatown was a busy place. There was a solid block of Chinese houses from the town hall up the street to the corner, each was built onto the other. Opium was smoked in the open with no interference, and that terrible smell was very potent all evening long.
    On China New Year's firecrackers were set off. There was a porch in front of every house, and they would tie bunches of firecrackers from the eaves to the floor and in the evening they would be set off. That would be a sign for all kids in town to line up and go through each house for a treat of China candy & China sweets.
    My father drove a stage from Jacksonville to Applegate, Pernoll's store. At that time there were still Chinese gold miners on the Applegate River. He carried mail, freight & passengers. Most all the Chinamen knew him; he would favor them quite often, so in the line of kids when my brother Chet and I came along there would be a pause in the line, then a rattle of Chinese talk and then Chet & I would get an extra "Chinese lily" or a glass bracelet or something like that. The rest of the kids could never understand why we would be favored, and we didn't either.
    They lived pretty well among themselves. Some worked out as laundry men & cooks, but most of them mined gold in the Applegate River. There would be groups of 15 or 20; they would set up a sluice box on the bank of the river, dig a ditch far enough upstream to get a good flow of water through the long sluicebox lined on the bottom with wooden riffles. There would be Chinese on both sides of box shoveling gravel in all day long, then in the evening they would turn the water off and clean up the gold.
    In the real early days they dug a tunnel under Jacksonville, from one end to the other. No one ever recorded just where the entrance of the tunnel was or how or where they handled the water. Several modern depression miners of the 1930 period would accidentally dig into this tunnel, and it was known they were digging in very rich pay dirt.
    Chinese funerals were quite a sight to watch. There were lots of Chinese buried in the Jacksonville cemetery. The old cemetery records show that they never give the name of a Chinese who was buried but just listed him as a Chinaman, cause of death unknown. All of the bones of the early Chinese were dug up about 1918 and sent back to China. The job was contracted and done by a local Chinese mortician.
    During my time when a boy around Jacksonville there were many interesting and [omission] individuals at Jerry Nunan's general store. You could buy most anything there from buggy whips to plug tobacco, I thought. Most interesting: Not too much canned stuff in the grocery line, bulk crackers sold by the pound, dried fruit, bulk coffee, barrel of coal oil sold by the gallon, big barrel of sauerkraut sold by the pound, hams, bacon, salt pork, dry goods, white stiff collars, bulk candy, oranges, fresh vegetables.
    Bananas were sold in a candy store. Patent medicines, what little there were, was sold in a drug store. School books, pencils and tablets, ink was sold in the Beekman Bank by Beekman. Fresh meat was sold in the butcher's shop, with a slaughter house on West 3rd Street. You could get a big slice of steak from a large hindquarter of beef for 25¢[; they] gave baloney away to the kids. Most saloons had free pretzels & sandwiches for nothing if you bought a big glass of beer for 5¢ and help yourself to free eats. The meat in the butcher shop was never cut up in the small pieces until sold. There was no refrigeration.
    There was one doctor in town, Dr. Robinson, who ran the drug store. I can't remember much of any medicine of any kind. If we had the belly ache we took a spoonful of vermifuge. If we had indigestion we took a small glass of grape wine; you could buy it from local wineries for 50¢ a gallon jug. [A] quart of bonded whiskey was always on the medicine shelf; we took a swallow any time we wanted it--it wasn't a novelty--we never took any unless we felt like it. We needed it[; it] was considered a medicine. Baking soda was used for bloatedness, and good food was generally used instead of medicine.
    Quite often before went to bed we would pop popcorn on the stove in a big frying pan. With it we ate a big apple; there was always several boxes of apples under the house to keep them from freezing.
    John Miller was also a interesting citizen; he was postmaster who had a hardware store next door. The only thing purchased from him was B.B. shot for our air guns, a cupful for 5¢. Dunsford's dray service delivered flour & etc. to the homes; everyone bought flour by the 50-pound sack. He also hauled freight from Medford, a load of gravel or whatever you needed.
    There were 3 wineries in town, J. N. T. Miller's, [the] Britt winery and Petard. Two breweries, Britt's & Wetterer's breweries. One distillery on 5th Street just as you left town on East 5th Street.
    There was always a dentist in town at my time. There was a Doctor Shaw. Toothbrushes was unknown, so we cleaned our teeth with a wash rag what little we did, so decayed teeth was common. When we would have a toothache and go to the dentist he would start the drill; power for the thing was by his foot like a sewing machine. When he would hit the tooth we would hold on the chair handles with both hands until we couldn't stand it any more, then he would say I'll have to kill the nerve. He would put some medicine in it then seal the hole up with wax. In a few days we would come back and he never took the dead nerve out. If it was too big a hole he would say I'll have to crown it with a gold crown. That was supposed to end our troubles, but over the years when that dead nerve began to decay there was nothing to do but pull it out. The gold crown cost $5.00.
    Bum Neuber was the most outstanding and colorful citizen in my time. He was a saloon keeper and run a gambling house, the roulette wheel, cards and the works, but he spent his money here in Jacksonville. He had a deer park where the Assembly of God Church now stands. He raised hundreds of China pheasants and turned them loose in the valley; practically financed the early 4th of July celebrations. He made lots of money and spent lots.
    One time they had a old soldiers' reunion up in Ulrich's park, a park on 3rd Street. They had it for a couple of weeks. Every year they had a big cannon which they used to shoot off every day during their celebration, and one year Neuber and a group of fellows went up there in the middle of the night and decided to wheel the thing downtown. They loaded the thing full of powder and whatnot. When it went off it shook the town so much it broke every window in the heart of town. My folks said they could even feel it down here on the ranch. People thought it quite a joke. Bum went all over town the next morning and paid for the glass and other damages. That's the time it cracked the U.S. Hotel.
    He (Bum) was sure a sport. One year the towns of the valley decided to have a valley baseball league. Neuber financed and owned the local team; he built a ball park, a big grandstand and bleachers and fenced it in with boards 8 ft. high, the whole park. He paid all his players, some outside professional players. He was winning all the games, made lots of money betting. He would have his men before the game going through the crowd with hands full of 5-10 gold pieces & silver to place bets. When the games were at Gold Hill, Medford, Ashland he would hire the local train to transport anyone who cared to go free of charge. The last game of the season one year was played in Jacksonville, and the whole baseball element of the valley came. Barnum with his railroad had to run a special train from Medford to accommodate the crowd. Neuber bet very heavy on the game, as well as lots of other Jacksonville people thinking it was a cinch, but Neuber's pitcher it was said was bought off to throw the game, and Jacksonville lost and all the Medford and valley fans went home with their pockets full of Jacksonville gold. That put a crimp in Bum Neuber. He never came back, finally lost everything.
    The Barnum railroad was sure something. It was run by the Barnum family. They first had a little old engine and a combination mail, freight & baggage and passenger car, made two trips a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. They would never stop at the courthouse for anyone to get on or off; you walked up to the depot or you didn't ride. All he would have to do was to stop and put on his brake. It was all downhill clear to the grove, about 2½ miles. When he had to bring in a extra car he would never make it. He would pull it up as far as he could, and set the brake and leave it, then bring his passengers in and go back for the loaded box car. There was the heaviest grade about where our ranch was, and getting started to pull that heavy car with that little old light engine the smoke & steam would fly, the wheels would spin. He would stop, try again, slow but sure he would get going enough to get into town. They had their woodpile on the flat down by the school house; every trip they would stop and load up with wood. It wasn't long until they bought a box car and a larger engine, also a flat car, and on circus days the passenger car wouldn't hold them. The men would ride the box car and the flat car.
    There was lots of circus days in Medford then, Ringling Bros, Sells Floto, Barnum & Bailey, Al. G. Barnes, the circus parades, big bands, pink lemonade and popcorn. And all those great big fine horses. Six-horse teams on each animal cage & band wagon in the parade--generally 3 band wagons and at the end the big steam calliope with a speaker with a loud voice announcing "free show." Immediately after the parade everyone would rush out there, which was not very far. There the circus could cash in on the crowd with the side show until time to go in the big top. People always were entertained by a band concert. Circuses in those days believed in having good bands.
    I was still around when Barnum, the local railroad tycoon, bought his little 4-wheel gap car one-cylinder gas engine. It would run probably 10 to 15 miles an hour. They would crank the thing from the side; it would kick, pop & snort. The passengers sat along the sides behind the front seat 4 on a side; two in front beside the driver made ten passengers in all.
    One evening as I recall I happened to be uptown. It was talked around Bum Neuber and some other so-called sports were going over to Medford. Bill Barnum couldn't get the thing started. They had the battery tray out trying to figure out if they were connected proper. Everyone had a different idea. I think if my memory is correct it took from 10 to 15 1½-volt batteries to run the thing. They finally got them connected together; the thing must have been plenty flooded with gas, so when Bill gave it a spin on the crank she blowed up, or at least it sounded like it, as it backfired. Fire and smoke flew out of the thing with a loud bang, and you should have seen the men scatter, including myself, but I couldn't keep up with those long-legged guys. They stopped around the corner of Denneff's saloon. When I got there they were still saying, "No sir you won't catch me on that thing; it's dangerous."
    For twenty years my father drove the stage and carried the mail from Jacksonville. He stopped at Ruch post office and out to Applegate post office, which was in Pernoll's store. [He] would leave at seven-thirty in the morning, get to Applegate at 11:30, leave there at twelve and get to town at 3:30 p.m. The wagon was a two-seated affair, quite a heavy rig pulled by two horses, changed teams every other day. Parcel post was not established yet, or the auto was not around yet, so passengers, freight, packages & etc. was quite an item of revenue. The mail contract would be submitted rather cheap, because the biggest percentage of income was in passengers & freight. The fare was 50¢ to Ruch and $1.00 to Applegate, 25¢ for 50 lbs. flour, 10 to 15¢ for small packages, jugs of whiskey 25¢. When parcel post was put into effect it cut in on revenue pretty much. Then when the automobile started to come in it cut the passenger trade.
    About 1908 the route to Applegate and the one to Copper, Calif., the Blue Ledge mine, was up for bid, and my father bid on both of them. He figured he would take the Upper Applegate one and give the lower one to my older brother, which did not work out so well, so it was up to my younger brother and me to finish it out (the contract). My father bid on the upper route for two 4-year terms, but he passed away suddenly one year and one-half before finishing the last 4-year contract.
    I had been away from Jacksonville on my own for six years working at different things, trying to find out what I would like to do as far as a life occupation was concerned, so when Father died in December 1916 I came home for the funeral, and staying a few days enjoying Mother's wonderful cooking and a clean bed to sleep in. My younger brother didn't think he could handle both the stage and the farm, so I decided to stay home and help. We finished the mail contract. The Blue Ledge was going strong; we put on a Model T Ford and did very well as far as passengers was concerned, also freight every trip. I would have that thing piled high, stuff tied on each side; oftentimes I couldn't handle the passengers, so my brother would drive the second Ford. We finished the contract, bid high on the next 4-year contract, but they refused to give us any consideration on future bidding on account. We were both in the draft for World War one, so we finished on July 1, 1918 and on July 6, 1918 they took me in the army.
    One little experience I have often thought of was when I drove the other stage down the river, I used to bring in the gold these different groups of Chinese miners would send in. It was always in a leather bag, and I would take it to old Beekman's Bank. He would put it on his gold scales, hand me back the leather bag and pay me off in $20, $10, and $5 gold pieces and always a little silver change, nothing less than 25¢. I would put it all in the bag. The next day the Chinaman would be waiting alongside of the road. I would give him the bag and he would give me 25¢ for my trouble. There was not a scratch of paper as to how many ounces on the amount of cash he paid me; everyone seemed to trust people more then. It was generally understood Old Beek didn't pay more than $7 [sic] an ounce for gold--the regular price then for refined gold was $16 per ounce, so the cash amount from $175.00 to $225.00 that I brought back to the Chinaman's quite a little ounces of gold [sic].
    There was a box one of the Chinese put on the stage one morning all sealed up like a case of tea; it was labeled tea on the outside. I didn't have much freight that day so I put it in the back and it bounced around over the rough roads all the way out there. I always left all Chinese freight at a farmer's mailbox. This day the farmer was there waiting there for his mail and I got the box out and dropped it on the ground, and this old fellow said I'll bet that's full of dynamite. It scared me, so I took my knife out and cut the straw lining around it and sure enough it was high explosive dynamite. I never did see that group of Chinese again; they knew we were not allowed to carry dynamite with the mail.
    When we were younger on the farm we always had lots of work to do. My father's income from the stage went for improvements, additional land, taxes. About 1906 Father decided to build a new house. It was a big two-story affair. He had five carpenters on the job almost all summer; he paid them off every Saturday in cash. Wages was not too much in those days; every load of lumber shingles & etc. was paid for in cash on arrival.
    The rest of the family seemed to make the living. We sold lots of vegetables, eggs, meat, excess hams & bacon turkeys on Thanksgiving, milk & butter. We raised lots of stuff and lived well; [we] would butcher three big pigs and a young beef all at the same time in the fall. Processing all that meat was no small job. There was two 50-gallon barrels full of hams and bacon that went through a curing salt process. We fried down the backstraps in crocks covered with lard--we had our year's supply of lard and sausage. You name it, Dad could make it. Blood sausage, head cheese, pickled pig's feet, all trimmings including shoulders went in a special sausage about 3 feet long in a cloth sack about 2 inches across, then smoked in the smoke house, and it was big to hold all the sausage, hams & bacon & etc.
    We had 2 acres of different variety of peaches and apricots and 1-acre orchard of different prunes. We never sold any fruit; what we and the neighbor kids didn't eat fell on the ground and the hogs & turkeys & chickens cleaned up. We canned lots of peaches and apricots, everything was in tin cans with a tight-fitting lid sealed with sealing wax, canned lots of beans, tomatoes, and whatnot every year, a big barrel of sauerkraut, and a barrel of salted cucumbers to be processed into pickles during the year, raised our own year's supply of potatoes & onions. Then in the spring garden back of the house was in lettuce, radishes, spinach, green onions & etc. for sale on the local market.
    In our big garden on the lower acreage we always planted about 3 acres of stock beets & carrots for stock feed. During the winter my brother and I each Saturday would have to get a wagonload to be fed to milk cows, and Dad always gave each of his stage horses a big carrot each day. We always kept about 8 cows milking. My brother and I would milk them by hand before breakfast, then eat our breakfast and deliver the milk around town before school in a 2-wheeled milk cart. A big box in the back behind the seat held the cans of milk [and] a quart measure over the neck of one, about a gallon size, where we carried in each person's kitchen and poured them out whatever they wanted at 5¢ a quart. We sold tickets 20 for a dollar, each good for 1 quart. Then after school it was the same procedure.
    Then on Saturdays there was two big chicken houses to clean. We let our chickens run loose and they were everywhere, clean up the stables and a thousand other things. Believe me when evening came with no television shows or radio we were ready to go to bed in order to get up early at 6 the next morning. At vacation time there was the big harvest. The corn crib had to be filled so we would have corn for hogs and turkeys. Two big barns had to be filled with hay and straw for bedding. We dried lots of prunes & apples & apricots in the sun, covered with mosquito bar to keep off flies. Then the big job was to clean up the big pile of horse and cow manure and all over the corrals, all hauled to our lower acres with a wagon with dump bottom boards. It would then be scattered by hand with a fork. The flock of geese had to be picked for feather beds & pillows.
    On a Monday was wash day. We had a large house affair with a wooden stove in it, 3 wooden tubs, a big wash boiler on the stove. All white clothes, underwear & socks were thoroughly boiled. Mother would put a whole bar of homemade soap in the boiler. She made her own lye soap out of all the cracklings we had. When we butchered she would make a whole big black cast-iron pot full [of soap] at a time. All water used had to be drawn out of a well on the porch. The washing machine was a kind of a thing fastened on a wooden tub with a stomping machine you worked by hand, and the wringer had to go from tub to tub, seemed like no end to it. Then all these clothes were hung on about 5 clotheslines in the back yard. Us kids carried all water in and out, turned the wringer, stomped the clothes with that thing. That was every Monday during vacation.
    During my boyhood days around Jacksonville there were lots of bells. You could set your watch by the school bell, which rang at different times during the day. The curfew bell always at eight during winter and 9 o'clock during summer months. No kid would ever think of being out after the bell rang. It tapped three times, one minute between taps; it was used for the fire bell also. Then a fairly large bell on the U.S. Hotel used as a dinner bell rang when the hotel meals were ready. Then the three church bells on Sunday morning, all ringing at the same time. On New Year's Eve all the bells except the fire bell would ring the old year out and the new year in.
    There was lots of dogs about town. We always kept two and lots of cats to keep the mice under control; we never fed the cats anything but a pan of warm fresh milk; their meat diet was plenty of mice & gophers. The dogs got table scraps. Our dogs would always follow our milk cart route, and they could win every dog fight with other town dogs along the way.
    The street lights about the main street were coal oil lamps. The marshal would have a little ladder; he would light each of them at a certain hour, later on would go around and blow them out. Later Evan Reames built what was called a gas plant, using carbide mixed with water to form gas. It was piped to each street lamp, but they still had to be lit by hand. The stores and a few houses had gas but it was not too much of a success. Later the Gold Ray Dam was built and a line into Jacksonville furnished electricity for the town. Before electricity in our home, like others it was coal oil lamps and outside coal oil lanterns.
    We had a big hanging lamp you could pull up and down. My father would set his big rocking chair under it every night and read everything in the papers out loud, and we were supposed to listen. My mother after raising 9 kids always knitted all our socks, sweaters, etc. Another pastime in the evening for all of us was to sew carpet rags. Nothing was thrown away, lots of hand-me-down clothes, but when any cloth had reached bottom it was torn up in ribbon-like lengths and sewed together for carpet rags to be woven into rag carpets. Between eight-thirty and nine was bedtime for all, no exception. In winter we wore lots of clothes in those days, woolen long underwear, wool sweaters, heavy tight caps with ear flaps, but when summer time came we went barefooted and peeled off to almost nothing.
    We always went to Sunday school on Sunday morning after the chores were finished, then till about 4:30 we had free time on our own. In the spring we would roam the hills close by, or fly kites which we made ourselves. Go hunting--there seemed to be plenty of things to shoot--lots of jack rabbits, birds of all kinds, skunks, weasels, quail etc. On the lower foothills were lots of deer in the evening; oftentimes we could hear in the evenings coyotes howling. There seemed to be fine timber everywhere, green grass; wild flowers were abundant. Small streams fed by springs were almost in every canyon.
    It was kept that way because the lightning in the late summer set off the fires. Nobody seemed to care about it. The fire never got very hot to set the timber on fire, it just burned the pine needles and dry grass. There was no brush. A dead tree which had fallen might be burning here and there. That time of year filled the valley with smoke for several weeks during the fall, which was called the dog days.
    It was always fun to be in the hills during the summer. In the canyons lots of berries, hazel nuts, sugar pine nuts, & etc. We also gathered mountain balm. You never hear of it any more. It was kind of a sticky weed or bush; we would dry it, smoked it in a corncob pipe for head colds and nostril infection. It would sure clear your head.
    Most everyone had a fence around their property including the school grounds; no kid was allowed outside of fence during school hours. [There was a] fence around all three churches [and] the courthouse; the reason was all the individual-owned town cows as well as all of ours were turned loose about town to keep down the tall grass. The purpose was to relieve the fire hazard because the firefighting equipment was confined to the main street where they had a big hand pumper that got its water from cisterns which were on every block. There were about four in all; they were big holes in the street, sections about 6 ft. deep and round with about 20 ft. across, lined with brick to hold water. These were kept full from a pipe from gravity from Jackson Creek[; they] was covered over with heavy planks.
    One interesting place worthwhile mentioning was Al Leonard's Boss Candy Kitchen. It started in a little place across from the U.S. Hotel. He had a box ball alley and a general hangout in the evening to eat candy or fresh roasted peanuts about 5¢ a quart dumped in your pocket. Al was quite a business man. He had one of the first graphophones, and we never tired listening to such cylinder records like "Preacher and the Bear," "Any Rags" and other high-class music. He finally moved to the building where Coleman's hardware store was. There he had more room. He sold cigars, tobacco, ice cream, vegetables, oranges, bananas and jar candy as well as homemade candy. We sold him all the milk and cream for his ice cream and all our spring fresh vegetables. He never had a money drawer or till; all his income and outgo of money was in and out of his pocket. He bought watermelons by the wagonload. When and why he quit business I can't remember.
    There were three blacksmith shops in town; they were all kept busy. Donegan's on the corner where the present myrtlewood shop is; the door was along the sidewalk. Most everyone passing by would stop for a moment and watch the old blacksmith strike a hot iron on the anvil with sparks flying in every direction or watch them nail shoes on the horses' feet. They did most all the horse shoeing and tire setting. Basye's shop was on the corner where the Richfield service station is with a big door next to the sidewalk. His work was mostly sharpening miners' drills, picks, plowshares and general buggy repair. Then there was Schmitling's shop that did general blacksmithing. Then there was the general livery stable. It was where the wash dry place is now. They had buggies and trotting horses for rent, also saddle horses for rent, also feed barn for anyone staying in town for the day.
    Quite a few so-called tough characters had what they called leather cuffs made of stiff leather all decorated up with silver harness spots. They slip these things over their hands about half way up to their elbows. What they were for I never knew.
    There was lots of cattle raised in the Applegate area during this time. Most all Applegate ranchers raised cattle, which which was their source of income. They all had yearly credit at the stores; they paid once a year when they sold their cattle in the fall. There would be lots of cattle drives through town on their way to the railroad corrals in Medford to be shipped to Portland.
    Major holidays were always a big affair. Christmas we always had to go in the hills looking for a perfect tree and gather mistletoe and laurel berries, which we strung on a thread and circled the tree with, also long strings of popcorn and decorated animal cookies by the dozens. That was it, but it was sure pretty with a homemade star covered with tinsel paper on top. Christmas Eve was always a time for Christmas stories from the Bible and singing Christmas songs, mostly in German. No presents were allowed under the tree until everyone went to bed. Next morning if we got one toy, candy, and a picture book we felt good and had a good time. Then in middle morning everyone in the family would gather around for a whiskey toddy, a small amount of whiskey in a glass with sugar, filled up with hot water. Mother and the girls always made a big dishpan of homemade donuts and cookies and whatnot for the big dinner. We had turkey and all the trimmings, so to speak.
    Easter was also a big day. We would gather baskets of eggs every day anyhow, but for Easter we would always hide a few in the granary, so the day before Easter we would gather a lot of them, I never knew why. All the kids around did the same thing, so they would gather [omission?] not run out of boiled eggs for breakfast on Easter morning. All kids tried to see how many eggs they could eat. Then there were lots of colored eggs colored with onion tops and placed around the yard in rabbit nests which we had made the day before. Then when we got up on Easter morning the first thing was to hunt Easter eggs.
    Before the Gold Ray Dam was built there was always one picnic a year. Generally several German families would get together and drive down to Bybee bridge on the Rogue River with teams and buggies for a picnic, and what a dinner we would have--an eight-gallon keg of beer was a must, and everyone had a wonderful time. Us smaller kids would always spend most of the afternoon fishing.
    We would catch a big jar of grasshoppers the day before, and we had a fish hook with no fancy leader or anything on a string [and] tie it on a willow pole, thread a live grasshopper on the hook and throw it out in the river, and you had a fish that was big, fat and fighting. The river seemed to be full of them. The men used to go down in the fall, and the river was so full of salmon they would spear them with gig hooks and long pole. My older brother used to go and bring home so many. We would cure them in salt brine and smoke them.
    Then there was a period during vacation when it was house cleaning time. All the rag carpets had to be taken up and hung on the clotheslines, and us kids had to beat the dust & dirt out of them with baseball bats. Then after each room was cleaned they were tacked down from wall to wall. During the hot summer days my younger brother and I would sleep out right on the ground on a old straw mattress. We would lay on our back and watch the falling stars. The air was clear and the sky was full of stars--Big Dipper, Little Dipper, Milky Way--the air was pure, no auto noise, everything was as quiet as could be.
    First 4th of July I remember was wonderful--a merry-go-round,  a large pole in the center with guy cables, wooden structures extending from this pole out about 15 ft. like a wagon wheel with cables on top to hold them. On the ends of these poles was a swing that held two persons. As I remember there were about eight of these swings, and for power to make it go around they had a horse on the inside that pulled the pole around a wooden structure extending out from the pole about six ft. and a singletree hitched to the horse. Fir branches over the top for decoration and red & white bunting all around[; it] really was something to watch. Later years they would always have on the 4th a merry-go-round driven by a steam engine. They would always set up a week before. Every time they would start & stop they would blow the steam whistle that you could hear all over town, and on the big day all the floats in the parade were on wagons.
    They would always bring ten or twelve new empty wagons from a wagon merchant from Medford. Local carpenters would build them up where they were fairly high; they would be covered with red white & blue cloth. Every wagon would have a young lady standing on top holding onto a pole, each representing the angel of peace, goddess of liberty or something like that. It was always a matter of respect that no firecrackers were set off during the parade. After the parade an address was always in order on the courthouse yard with a large stage with a patriotic program. All people out of town came with their horses & buggy, the feed & livery stable always full and empty buggies parked on streets.
    They always had long tables in the courthouse yard so all the out-of-town families could have their noon dinner. The afternoon was filled up with games, races and etc. for the kids, then always a big ball game at the ball grounds, then the fun parade in the evening. [This second parade was called the Calithumpian parade or parade of the "horribles."] They would take all these floats that were in the day parade and clown the whole works--as an example "the whole dam family," "fighting the beef trust," political jokes & etc. Then the big fireworks at night followed with a grand ball in the hall that lasted all night they say.
    In the evening before the fireworks they would have a balloon to go up. They have a big fire and fill this big bag with smoke, and when it was full up she would go. They had a trapeze under the thing, and as it went up the man would perform on the trapeze. I just don't remember just how he came down. [The man would come down on a parachute. With his weight gone, the balloon would invert, releasing its smoke, and beat him to the ground.]
    At one time we had a kid band here in town. John Norling was bandmaster, an ex-vaudeville trumpet performer. He could play a tune on most anything he saw, even play two trumpets at the same time, melody on one and harmony on the other. We had some adults in the band. One man I remember would chew tobacco and play a cornet at the same time. During rehearsals he would have spittoon by his chair. One year when Ashland started to have their regular annual 4 of July celebrations our kid band went up to play. We rode from Jacksonville to Ashland in the old band wagon, left at 4 o'clock in the morning and did not get home till late at night. I remember we almost froze; the weather had turned bad. That big wagon loaded down with 18 of us was a big load for 2 horses, which never went out of a walk going or coming.
    Before the orchards were in the valley the farmers raised mostly grain. They cut their grain with headers or binders that bound the grain in bundles. In the fall, a view from the school house on the hill seemed like the whole valley was being plowed by horse power. Then at harvest time all the grain would be stacked waiting for the threshing machines. They would go from field to field; they all had rail fences at that time. I have seen 5 big threshing rigs in operation from where we lived. They were big outfits, big steam engine, two-fork derrick table, large separator, one wagon with a feed rack on it. One team would haul water for the engine. They would have 10 horses in all, one wagon for a cook shack and dining room with a Chinese cook.
    To me them were the days.
Southern Oregon Historical Society Research Library MS 115



Last revised July 19, 2026