Johnny's, bobby soxers, raging river mark Indian life The Dalles Chronicle March 12, 2007 page A7 By George W. Aguilar Sr. In my younger, and happy-go-lucky days from the ages of 15 - 19, I took an inordinate delight in the Indian traditional gambling activity, and I forever looked forward to these traditional Indian doings. These goings-on also resulted in nearly every native being a participant, from old age, young people and the children. The aged looked forward for visiting of friends and relatives, children found new playmates, and younger people became acquainted with potential mates. Salmon fishing also occupied a very important element in my early life. I have fished the salmon in a variety of ways, from Indian traditional back eddy set nets, roping, dipnetting, gaffing, spearing, and gill netting, deep sea trolling in the Southeastern Alaska region. My thoughts and desires time and again drift into the former periods of harvesting these awesome anadromous species. Salmon fishing for the river people was the ultimate high; it was implanted in them, to always return to the fishing sites. It was regarded as a highly valued and respected occupational trade. Sometimes individuals forsook permanent careers just for the opportunity to harvest a few fish. Some even lost their lives chasing this exhilarating skill. The rumbling roars and hurled foamed water of When the River Ran Wild was the peak and most exciting part of my life and it was, at one time, the very essence of my being. Five Mile Indian Fishery: Some other childhood recollections were camping at Wot'socks, called "Lone Pine Indian Camp" by the white people. I noticed when my uncles established the yearly camp it was usually the same place every year. Below our camp was Uncle Joe Esterbrook's home. While as a child about age 7, I would accompany the uncles and cross the Celilo Canal with a small row boat to get to the early spring fishing spot of Iskulia iputch and Itkach'a fishing places at Five Mile Rapids. There were many small channels just a few feet wide about knee deep. In places, eels would be ascending the small vertical basalt rocks. While the men fished for the succulent spring salmon, I harvested the eels by simply wading to the eels hanging on rocks, pulling them off and throwing them to the dry surfaces. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Johnny’s, bobby soxers, raging river mark Indian life By George W. Aguilar for The Chronicle Life at Celilo, 1920s – 1950: Almost half of a century has passed and Johnny’s Café of The Dalles finally went out of business in spring 2006. My visit to the restaurant was hampered by falling debris caused by construction workers; I soon learned it was being converted into a different retail business. The establishment finally succumbed as a casualty like the death of Celilo Falls 49 years prior. This restaurant catered to the Indians’ trade during the bustling days of the Celilo Falls era. The seating capacity of the café was filled daily; often there was a waiting line for a table. One time, a friend and I were in this restaurant. My friend made mention, “Watch them two guys over there, after they get through giving the impression of reading the menu, they will order a hamburger steak and a bottle of Pepsi Cola.” Unquestionably, that was the order. Abe and Minnie Show-a-way came to this restaurant every day, and even during the off season. On Feb. 5, 2007, while conversing with an elder about the remodeling of the building, Adeline Moses Miller remarked, “Whenever I was in The Dalles, that was the only place I went to eat.” It was the Indians’ eating place for many of the older people, even 49 years after the dam created the Celilo Lake. On the western side of the Celilo Falls Village, there was Hemlick’s general store, located on the Highway 30 that went right through the center of the Celilo Falls Village, and it was very busy during the fall salmon season. The featured menu special was the Columbia River Chinook salmon. In the late 1940s, the blaring juke box in this store attracted the Indian teenaged bobbysoxers with white T-shirts and their tight Levi pants, ruffled up a couple of times to expose the bright, white socks, They kept a toe-tapping beat to the big band music of Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey. During the 1950s, Indian girls were often heard in a sing-along with the jukebox and car radios, singing through their noses to the recording of the cowboy singers Hank Williams and Ernie Tubbs. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life The Dalles Chronicle March 12, 2007 By George W. Aguilar Sr These cherished tales often come cascading down from about 72 years ago, and I'm reminded of the stories she told of When the River Ran Wild! The bountiful salmon runs that once existed on the Columbia River. The explanations for the stern steam boat rides up and down the Columbia River during the early 1900s. Grandmother told of the first automobile rides on the then new Columbia Historic Highway, and these automobile and stern wheel boat rides sounded very adventurous. Not knowing anything about the outside world, Grandmother's stories were newfound to my young mind and were very intriguing. Some of those stories of her experiences and early life have faded away like the silenced Five Mile Rapids and Celilo Falls. Around the fall of 1935, Uncle Henry Polk brought us to Celilo Village, where he was residing with Minnie and Abe Show-a-way. Minnie's mother was also there; these families lived at the Celilo Village the year round, and were permanent residents of Celilo. Henry (Polk) and Abe (Show-a-way) would bring several sacks of fall run Chinook salmon for the women to butcher, fillet and prepare for air drying. On the rickety homemade butchering table several salmon were quickly filleted into thin slices and were placed on the air drying racks. The roe (eggs) was also dried in this manner. The brightest, freshest and premium salmon were hand-picked for sale or reserved for trade to visiting tourists. A lot of times I sat and listened to the conversation involving grandmother and a very old blind lady (Minnie's mother) the language spoken was the Columbia River Sahaptin. The conversation usually entailed historical events of bygone times, places to get certain grasses for use in drying salmon and so forth. In general, it was just plan old lady talk. During this era, all conversation was in the Native American language, very little English was spoken. The English language was spoken only to vegetable and fruit trading people and visiting fish-buying tourists. There were several other people sharing and living in this same dry shed, and every one slept on the hard flat basalt rocks. These groups were relatives, and in-laws of the family. Each family group had their place in this open four-walled dry shed, and there were no wall partitions. They all slept in a row on the western wall of the dry shack. Each family slept, cooked, ate and stayed within the confines of their area. When the crack of dawn crowded out the night hours, and upon waking up, the bedding was neatly rolled up and placed against the walls. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life The Dalles Chronicle Sunday, March 11, 2007 George W. Aguilar Sr., of Warm Springs is the award-winning author of "When the River Ran Wild." He will speak at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center on Saturday, March 17, as part of Celilo Falls observances. The following are excerpts from a memoir expected to appear this summer in the Oregon Historical Society's quarterly issue. His book is available at Klindt's Book Sellers. Part 2 of Aguilar's stories, "Celilo Falls: 1920s-1930s" will appear in Monday's Chronicle By George Aguilar for The Chronicle. With the dawning of the 50-year anniversary of the Celilo Falls flooding of March 10, 1957, all of the Columbia River Gorge's breathtaking sights are now submerged under the lifeless backed up waters behind the Bonneville and The Dalles Dams. Today young people can still hear the stories of the centuries-old Celilo Falls as told by the few remaining old timers. Declining from remembrance are the few elders who fished at Spearfish and Celilo Falls. The oral history and memory of the falls is in danger of disappearing. Spearfish, Cascade Rapids, and the Celilo Falls Village, and the deep foundation of culture that once existed will someday live only on the white man's talking paper. I have always had a strong lure to the River region, a sort of a well-regarded bond, perhaps because of the ancestral connections of my people to The Dalles and Cascade Rapids. Many of my relatives have been engulfed in this sacred river of the homeland of my ancestors. The contribution I can give on the Celilo topic is a memoir of the area when I was a child. There are also some sporadic periods when I participated in the fishery at the Five-Mile Rapids and Celilo Fishery during my late teen years. The ravaged fishing sites, from Wot'socs to the Celilo Falls, belonged to families from Yakama and Warm Springs who came to the river annually. The owners of the fishing stations are the only people who lost much, and they to this day lament for the rich and robust way of life that vanished under the backwater of the dams. 1935 visit to Celilo: During the winter's turbulent weather is when history was taught and legends told. Grandmother often recited the activities that were handed down from the peoples that passed on before her time. Some times she related her childhood experiences and so forth. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life By George W. Aguilar Sr. At the pebbled Salmon-Head Beach, Grandmother looked for small, smooth, flat rocks, and she showed me how these flat rocks were thrown onto larger ones. This was an attempt to split them in half to make a stone head for the hide-tanning stick. The gentle licking of the water waves created by the afternoon summer western winds are still there, but the Salmon Head Beach no longer exists. The area is now a landing place for wind surfers. It is elders aged 60 years or older that keep in mind of what it was like prior to March 10, 1957. The huffing clatter and rumbling of the black smoke-spewing, coal-steam engine locomotives coming around the bend were seen and heard during this era. During these blistering late hot hummer and early autumn days, the clamor of some moccasin wearing, Sahaptin speaking children was every where. The sounds of the great Celilo Falls thundered, and churned out foamed water against the basalt rocks. The visiting tourists told of the splendor of the spectacular sites of Celilo's foaming wild river through their photography. The bothersome buzzing of house flies gave way to the whispers of the evening's caressing, cooling winds. During the night hours, fast-paced, taunting, gamboling sounds and the bombarding of wooden clubs beating on boards, reverberated off the towing basalt bluffs.ghosts of the fishery live only on photographs and in minds and hearts of the old ones 71 years ago. To be continued Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life By George W. Aguilar Sr. There were several other people sharing and living in this same dry shed, and every one slept on the hard flat basalt rocks. These groups were relatives, and in-laws of the family. Each family group had their place in this open four-walled dry shed, and there were no wall partitions. They all slept in a row on the western wall of the dry shack. Each family slept, cooked, ate and stayed within the confines of their area. When the crack of dawn crowded out the night hours, and upon waking up, the bedding was neatly rolled up and placed against the walls. While viewing photos from a computer disk provided by the Oregon Historical Society, I made an inquiry to Adeline Moses Miller, "Whose drying shed is that on the photo?" Her reply was, "I can see the people in my mind, but I can't remember their names. The only thing I remember is that I carried sacks of sand for them to level out the sleeping places that was on the rocks." This drying shed occupied a strategic place along the highway going through the Celilo Village; it was north of the main thoroughfare. Minnie's older brother, McKinley Wesley, sat near a pole pillar of the shed constructing fish nets and other fishing paraphernalia. There was an old Model T Ford discarded car seat outside and children were ordered to sit outside the weather-beaten boarded drying shack, to wait for a vegetable and fruit salesman who came to trade for a fresh salmon. At other times, Grandmother took me for a walk along the Salmon Head Beach, located east of the Celilo Village. Salmon Head Beach, was so named because some people butchered and gutted their fish on this shallow river beach, and the guts and discarded fish heads caused a stench and a breeding place for a lot of flies. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life By George W. Aguilar Sr. These cherished tales often come cascading down from about 72 years ago, and I'm reminded of the stories she told of When the River Ran Wild! The bountiful salmon runs that once existed on the Columbia River. The explanations for the stern steam boat rides up and down the Columbia River during the early 1900s. Grandmother told of the first automobile rides on the then new Columbia Historic Highway, and these automobile and stern wheel boat rides sounded very adventurous. Not knowing anything about the outside world, Grandmother's stories were newfound to my young mind and were very intriguing. Some of those stories of her experiences and early life have faded away like the silenced Five Mile Rapids and Celilo Falls. Around the fall of 1935, Uncle Henry Polk brought us to Celilo Village, where he was residing with Minnie and Abe Show-a-way. Minnie's mother was also there; these families lived at the Celilo Village the year round, and were permanent residents of Celilo. Henry (Polk) and Abe (Show-a-way) would bring several sacks of fall run Chinook salmon for the women to butcher, fillet and prepare for air drying. On the rickety homemade butchering table several salmon were quickly filleted into thin slices and were placed on the air drying racks. The roe (eggs) was also dried in this manner. The brightest, freshest and premium salmon were hand-picked for sale or reserved for trade to visiting tourists. A lot of times I sat and listened to the conversation involving grandmother and a very old blind lady (Minnie's mother) the language spoken was the Columbia River Sahaptin. The conversation usually entailed historical events of bygone times, places to get certain grasses for use in drying salmon and so forth. In general, it was just plan old lady talk. During this era, all conversation was in the Native American language, very little English was spoken. The English language was spoken only to vegetable and fruit trading people and visiting fish-buying tourists. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life The Dalles Chronicle Sunday, March 11, 2007 George W. Aguilar Sr., of Warm Springs is the award-winning author of "When the River Ran Wild." He will speak at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center on Saturday, March 17, as part of Celilo Falls observances. The following are excerpts from a memoir expected to appear this summer in the Oregon Historical Society's quarterly issue. His book is available at Klindt's Book Sellers. Part 2 of Aguilar's stories, "Celilo Falls: 1920s-1930s" will appear in Monday's Chronicle By George Aguilar for The Chronicle. With the dawning of the 50-year anniversary of the Celilo Falls flooding of March 10, 1957, all of the Columbia River Gorge's breathtaking sights are now submerged under the lifeless backed up waters behind the Bonneville and The Dalles Dams. Today young people can still hear the stories of the centuries-old Celilo Falls as told by the few remaining old timers. Declining from remembrance are the few elders who fished at Spearfish and Celilo Falls. The oral history and memory of the falls is in danger of disappearing. Spearfish, Cascade Rapids, and the Celilo Falls Village, and the deep foundation of culture that once existed will someday live only on the white man's talking paper. I have always had a strong lure to the River region, a sort of a well-regarded bond, perhaps because of the ancestral connections of my people to The Dalles and Cascade Rapids. Many of my relatives have been engulfed in this sacred river of the homeland of my ancestors. The contribution I can give on the Celilo topic is a memoir of the area when I was a child. There are also some sporadic periods when I participated in the fishery at the Five-Mile Rapids and Celilo Fishery during my late teen years. The ravaged fishing sites, from Wot'socs to the Celilo Falls, belonged to families from Yakama and Warm Springs who came to the river annually. The owners of the fishing stations are the only people who lost much, and they to this day lament for the rich and robust way of life that vanished under the backwater of the dams. 1935 visit to Celilo: During the winter's turbulent weather is when history was taught and legends told. Grandmother often recited the activities that were handed down from the peoples that passed on before her time. Some times she related her childhood experiences and so forth. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

River towns, including Celilo, were relocated to allow for the rising reservoir. Those who remained at Celilo got new homes, many built with "weathered" surplus World War II materials, in the new Celilo Village, said George Miller, Celilo village project manager for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. And it became a dreadful slum. Water pressure, residents said, was so low that sewage sometimes backed into the water pipes. Antone Minthorn, 71, chairman of the Umatilla tribal confederation based near Pendleton, said non-Indian towns that were relocated got good-quality modern facilities. Not so Celilo, "because we were Indians. We were out of power." Congress did not authorize money for repairs until 2004. It is now being renovated by the Corps with new sewer and water systems and new streets and housing. About 60 people call the dilapidated village home, a number that can double when tribal members arrive for fishing season. In its prime the population probably ran to 5,000-10,000. The fishery is controlled, and today the tribes' catch is limited. Some isolated platform fishing continues but the tribal fishery generally has become a much smaller and placid, mostly still-water operation. "There is an economy here only when there are fish," Jay Minthorn said. "Young people go to work in Portland. The challenge is to keep the village together, to build an economy for them." Celilo Falls, he said, was a living, a livelihood. "We had an abundance of fish." he said. "They were 20, 40, 50 pounders," and salmon sales to visitors were brisk. The fishery was a tourist draw. "People come from all over to witness the fishery," he said. "They'd give you a dollar to take your picture. A dollar was a lot of money in them days." Today, windsurfers frolic where the falls once channeled a roaring river. A sign at a freeway wayside tells visitors what they missed. But the tribes remember. Ronald Jim remembers his father, Howard Jim, a long time chief who fished the falls; when the gates closed and the falls vanished, the elder Jim couldn't bear the sight, went away and didn't come back for two years. Jay Minthorn remembers a Umatilla member, Wesley Tyus, who said he would never fish or eat salmon again. "He lived by that," Minthorn said. "When you see what we have her today, people say it's the biggest cemetery that we have here," Minthorn said. The Dalles Dam can generate enough electricity to serve a city the size of Seattle, and there is no talk of removing it. A few have suggested dropping the reservoir 40 feet or so to expose the falls again briefly. "But there is an opinion that, "Don't bring them back only to take them away again. That pain should not be felt by others," Hudson said. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Looking back, there was little the tribes could do to prevent the dam from being built. They argues for its placement where it would not bury the falls, but America in the 1950s - emerging from a hot war and entering a cold one -was about progress and patriotism. Dam advocates stressed a need for cheap hydroelectric energy to power the aluminum smelters on the river. Bonneville Power Administration newsreels of the day presented the falls as a nuisance to river commerce and transportation and painted glowing images of the easy life of abundant, cheap electricity. Meanwhile, the Eisenhower administration was nullifying the reservation status of many tribes and school books still depicted Indians as defeated historical footnotes, the bad guys in the B movies generations of kids saw on Saturdays for a quarter. At the same time, bad blood remained between tribes and whites over river access for fishing. Sometimes, the Indians successfully defended their rights in court. As a result, said Charles Hudson, many non-Indian fishermen supported inundating the falls, believing it would end the Indian river fishery. Perhaps it would do to the river what the loss of the buffalo did to the Plains - get rid of food supply, get rid of the Indians. And so, the falls disappeared. After considerable dickering, most members of the four tribes got about $3,750 each for the loss of their fishing place. Some refused the money saying nothing could replace what was lost. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

The tons of drying salmon impressed members of the Lewis and Clark expedition as they headed down the river in October of 1805. They were probably the first white men to see the falls, although American and British ships had been calling at the Columbia's mouth since 1792 and their trade goods (and venereal disease) had worked their way up to Celilo and beyond. Celilo custom called for providing visiting tribes with the salmon they needed, but the expedition wasn't tribal and the Celilos were no fools. "They ask high prices for what the Sell and Say that the white people give great prices &c for everything," William Clark grumbled in his journal in November of 1805. Thus, perhaps, a tourist industry was hatched. Clark described the falls and adjacent rapids that tumbled through several miles of basalt formations as "foaming and boiling in a most horriable manner." Beginning in the 1830s, gold seekers and early settlers forced the tribes out of the river valleys leading to the Columbia, and the tribes found a welcome among the Celilo on the Columbia. Treaties of 1855 then herded the Indians onto reservations after they signed away huge tracts of traditional lands and other wealth. Some stayed on the river, but all members of the river tribes kept their fishing rights to the "usual and accustomed" places, and the falls remained known as "an Indian place." But access to the "usual and accustomed" fishing areas, guaranteed by treaty but not well defined, often was blocked by whites who had taken over land. And murderously efficient fishing methods by non-Indian fishermen (such as fish traps and fish wheels, since outlawed) fed the voracious downriver salmon canneries. Pollution and destruction of spawning grounds also played a role in reducing the salmon runs to a trickle of their historic highs. But dams were a major factor. At the height, as many as 16 million salmon passed through the river. By 2006, only about 1 million adult salmon and steelhead heading upriver to spawn were counted at Bonneville Dam, the first of 14 dams on the Columbia. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Waves of Settlers, Developers Toll Celilo's Death The Dalles Chronicle March 11, 2007 page A9 There was little the tribes could do to prevent the dam's construction By Joseph Frazier Associated Press Writer CELILO VILLAGE - Jay Minthorn remembers watching the Columbia River rise, the islands of Celilo Falls vanish, the fishing platforms wash away - and a centuries-old way of tribal life vanish forever. The gates of The Dalles Dam had closed, and nothing would ever be the same. "That was the hardest thing to do," says Minthorn, a member of the Umatilla Tribe who fished the falls as a young man. "To me it was one of the biggest funerals that I ever attended. People were up there mourning, crying, everything. "They just kind of walked off and left all their fishing equipment and nets and scaffolds, whatever; we left them to go under water or down the river." He is 70 now. He was just 20 on March 10, 1957, when the dam pushed back the Columbia River to reap the benefits of hydroelectric power. In six hours the falls were gone forever beneath a mockingly tranquil reservoir pool. The 50th anniversary of that moment is approaching. It will be more noted than celebrated. "If you talk of Celilo to some Indian families you will get the door slammed in your face. It's still that painful," says Charles Hudson, spokesman for the Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission. For 10,000 years or more, Columbia River Indians thrived on the abundant salmon churning through the falls to upriver spawning grounds. The falls provided a cultural identity, and abundant life, and for centuries, a Western Wall Street where tribes from across the West, from Alaska, from the Plains, from the South came to trade salmon, shells, buffalo meat, obsidian, copper, roots, fur, blankets, canoes, slaves. For most people the falls today are trapped in classic black-and-white photos of Indian fishermen silhouetted with their dip nets on rickety-looking platforms hanging over the tumbling whitewater. But for older tribesmen, the falls of their memories are in vibrant and living color. "I tell people, my kids and grandkids, about it when we travel down here," Minthorn said. "They look at the man-made river we have today compared to the great Celilo Falls." He said you could hear the falls and feel the humidity from their mist from miles away. "The hills here used to be green from the mist from the water," he said, looking over to the Washington side. "Today they don't have any color left in them." The story of how the color disappeared - and the fish, and the majesty of the falls - starts long before the dam was built. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life The Dalles Chronicle March 11, 2007 page A8 By George Aguilar for The Chronicle Henry (Polk) and Abe (Show-a-way) would bring several sacks of fall run Chinook salmon for the women to butcher, fillet and prepare for air drying. On the rickety homemade butchering table several salmon were quickly filleted into thin slices and were placed on the air drying racks. The roe (eggs) was also dried in this manner. The brightest, freshest and premium salmon were hand-picked for sale or reserved for trade to visiting tourists. A lot of times I sat and listened to the conversation involving grandmother and a very old blind lady (Minnie's mother) the language spoken was the Columbia River Sahaptin. The conversation usually entailed historical events of bygone times, places to get certain grasses for use in drying salmon and so forth. In general, it was just plan old lady talk. During this era, all conversation was in the Native American language, very little English was spoken. The English language was spoken only to vegetable and fruit trading people and visiting fish-buying tourists. There were several other people sharing and living in this same dry shed, and every one slept on the hard flat basalt rocks. These groups were relatives, and in-laws of the family. Each family group had their place in this open four-walled dry shed, and there were no wall partitions. They all slept in a row on the western wall of the dry shack. Each family slept, cooked, ate and stayed within the confines of their area. When the crack of dawn crowded out the night hours, and upon waking up, the bedding was neatly rolled up and placed against the walls. While viewing photos from a computer disk provided by the Oregon Historical Society, I made an inquiry to Adeline Moses Miller, "Whose drying shed is that on the photo?" Her reply was, "I can see the people in my mind, but I can't remember their names. The only thing I remember is that I carried sacks of sand for them to level out the sleeping places that was on the rocks." This drying shed occupied a strategic place along the highway going through the Celilo Village; it was north of the main thoroughfare. Minnie's older brother, McKinley Wesley, sat near a pole pillar of the shed constructing fish nets and other fishing paraphernalia. There was an old Model T Ford discarded car seat outside and children were ordered to sit outside the weather-beaten boarded drying shack, to wait for a vegetable and fruit salesman who came to trade for a fresh salmon. At other times, Grandmother took me for a walk along the Salmon Head Beach, located east of the Celilo Village. Salmon Head Beach, was so named because some people butchered and gutted their fish on this shallow river beach, and the guts and discarded fish heads caused a stench and a breeding place for a lot of flies. At the pebbled Salmon-Head Beach, Grandmother looked for small, smooth, flat rocks, and she showed me how these flat rocks were thrown onto larger ones. This was an attempt to split them in half to make a stone head for the hide-tanning stick. The gentle licking of the water waves created by the afternoon summer western winds are still there, but the Salmon Head Beach no longer exists. The area is now a landing place for wind surfers. It is elders aged 60 years or older that keep in mind of what it was like prior to March 10, 1957. The huffing clatter and rumbling of the black smoke-spewing, coal-steam engine locomotives coming around the bend were seen and heard during this era. During these blistering late hot hummer and early autumn days, the clamor of some moccasin wearing, Sahaptin speaking children was every where. The sounds of the great Celilo Falls thundered, and churned out foamed water against the basalt rocks. The visiting tourists told of the splendor of the spectacular sites of Celilo's foaming wild river through their photography. The bothersome buzzing of house flies gave way to the whispers of the evening's caressing, cooling winds. During the night hours, fast-paced, taunting, gamboling sounds and the bombarding of wooden clubs beating on boards, reverberated off the towing basalt bluffs.ghosts of the fishery live only on photographs and in minds and hearts of the old ones 71 years ago. To be continued Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Youthful Memories Shine Light on Celilo Life The Dalles Chronicle Sunday, March 11, 2007 Part 1 (transcription) George W. Aguilar Sr., of Warm Springs is the award-winning author of "When the River Ran Wild." He will speak at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center on Saturday, March 17, as part of Celilo Falls observances. The following are excerpts from a memoir expected to appear this summer in the Oregon Historical Society's quarterly issue. His book is available at Klindt's Book Sellers. Part 2 of Aguilar's stories, "Celilo Falls: 1920s-1930s" will appear in Monday's Chronicle By George Aguilar for The Chronicle. With the dawning of the 50-year anniversary of the Celilo Falls flooding of March 10, 1957, all of the Columbia River Gorge's breathtaking sights are now submerged under the lifeless backed up waters behind the Bonneville and The Dalles Dams. Today young people can still hear the stories of the centuries-old Celilo Falls as told by the few remaining old timers. Declining from remembrance are the few elders who fished at Spearfish and Celilo Falls. The oral history and memory of the falls is in danger of disappearing. Spearfish, Cascade Rapids, and the Celilo Falls Village, and the deep foundation of culture that once existed will someday live only on the white man's talking paper. I have always had a strong lure to the River region, a sort of a well-regarded bond, perhaps because of the ancestral connections of my people to The Dalles and Cascade Rapids. Many of my relatives have been engulfed in this sacred river of the homeland of my ancestors. The contribution I can give on the Celilo topic is a memoir of the area when I was a child. There are also some sporadic periods when I participated in the fishery at the Five-Mile Rapids and Celilo Fishery during my late teen years. The ravaged fishing sites, from Wot'socs to the Celilo Falls, belonged to families from Yakama and Warm Springs who came to the river annually. The owners of the fishing stations are the only people who lost much, and they to this day lament for the rich and robust way of life that vanished under the backwater of the dams. 1935 visit to Celilo: During the winter's turbulent weather is when history was taught and legends told. Grandmother often recited the activities that were handed down from the peoples that passed on before her time. Some times she related her childhood experiences and so forth. These cherished tales often come cascading down from about 72 years ago, and I'm reminded of the stories she told of When the River Ran Wild! The bountiful salmon runs that once existed on the Columbia River. The explanations for the stern steam boat rides up and down the Columbia River during the early 1900s. Grandmother told of the first automobile rides on the then new Columbia Historic Highway, and these automobile and stern wheel boat rides sounded very adventurous. Not knowing anything about the outside world, Grandmother's stories were newfound to my young mind and were very intriguing. Some of those stories of her experiences and early life have faded away like the silenced Five Mile Rapids and Celilo Falls. Around the fall of 1935, Uncle Henry Polk brought us to Celilo Village, where he was residing with Minnie and Abe Show-a-way. Minnie's mother was also there; these families lived at the Celilo Village the year round, and were permanent residents of Celilo. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Seems plausible. ----- Original Message ----- From: "KATHY HUGHES" <heweys@prodigy.net> To: <oregon@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, March 15, 2007 2:52 PM Subject: Re: [OREGON] General census question > absent??? as in away at school, working out, etc. > Kathy > > --- Darlene Casteel > <dcasteel@masterpiece.metrobbs.com> wrote: > >> There seem to be a lot of knowledgeable people on >> this list, so I'm wondering if someone can answer my >> question. Reading the 1910 and 1920 census records, >> there is a young man age 1 in 1910 and age 11 in >> 1920 with his parents. In 1930 he is still with his >> parents, but shown as "ab son". He is age 21, and >> has no occupation shown. Further down the page, >> there is a 17-year old "son ab", also with his >> parents and no occupation shown. I'm sure he was >> not adopted. Can anyone tell me what those entries >> would mean? >> Thanks, >> Darlene >> >> ------------------------------- >> To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email >> to OREGON-request@rootsweb.com with the word >> 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and >> the body of the message >> > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > OREGON-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes > in the subject and the body of the message

absent??? as in away at school, working out, etc. Kathy --- Darlene Casteel <dcasteel@masterpiece.metrobbs.com> wrote: > There seem to be a lot of knowledgeable people on > this list, so I'm wondering if someone can answer my > question. Reading the 1910 and 1920 census records, > there is a young man age 1 in 1910 and age 11 in > 1920 with his parents. In 1930 he is still with his > parents, but shown as "ab son". He is age 21, and > has no occupation shown. Further down the page, > there is a 17-year old "son ab", also with his > parents and no occupation shown. I'm sure he was > not adopted. Can anyone tell me what those entries > would mean? > Thanks, > Darlene > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email > to OREGON-request@rootsweb.com with the word > 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and > the body of the message >

There seem to be a lot of knowledgeable people on this list, so I'm wondering if someone can answer my question. Reading the 1910 and 1920 census records, there is a young man age 1 in 1910 and age 11 in 1920 with his parents. In 1930 he is still with his parents, but shown as "ab son". He is age 21, and has no occupation shown. Further down the page, there is a 17-year old "son ab", also with his parents and no occupation shown. I'm sure he was not adopted. Can anyone tell me what those entries would mean? Thanks, Darlene

Snippets of The Dalles Area Local History December 17, 2006 Page A5 and December 24, 2006, page A7 By Rodger Nichols of The Chronicle Text only Not a lot of response to our unknown bakery interior from last week. However, D.R. reported his mother, B. R., identified the photo as from the Oregon Bakery, which she placed on East Second, East of Union Street. She remembered Oregon Bakery with a similar setup and furniture, R. reported. So, until we hear otherwise, we'll say that's what this photo represents. As always, any further information on the subject is welcome. Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Looking Back: A Glimpse Through The Chronicle's Files page A7 November 12, 2006 20 Years Ago, November 12,1986 It may be the closest to a world premiere that The Dalles will ever have and a number of the people who appeared as extras in a movie shot here last summer plan to take advantage of the situation. "The Penalty Phase," a two-hour courtroom drama will be shown on CBS at 9 p.m. on November 18. Locally many of the extras will gather an hour earlier at the Portage Inn and the Tapadera to watch the movie on big screen television. There will be no reservations for "the event but seating will be on a first come, first served basis at both locations. Several members of the Wahtonka Eagles football team were named first-team all conference selections by Columbia Basin Conference coaches recently. Wahtonka seniors Jamie Baucum, Scott Carty and Jay Collier were named to the first team on both offense and defense. Baucum was a first team choice at running back and defensive end, while Carty and Collier were named first team choice on the line. 40 Years Ago, November 12, 1966 The top article in the November 11 issue of the Catholic Sentinel was written by Msgr. Michael J. McMahon of St. Peters Church, The Dalles. Msgr. McMahon, writing as dean of the Western Deanery and diocese consultor, urged parishioners to be liberal in "giving to God." Gerald Doolen, son of Margaret McVey and C.E. McVey of The Dalles, is enrolled for 66-67 at Christian Theological Seminary, Indianapolis, the Indiana school reported. Christian Theological Seminary is a graduate educational institution for the Christian Churches (Disciples of Christ). State Sen. Ben Musa of The Dalles was the luncheon speaker Friday at a regional meeting held here by the Oregon State Life Underwriters Association, with members of Mid-Columbia Underwriters as the hosts. Officers came from Chapters in the northern half of Oregon. The sessions were held at the Blue Room at Hotel Dalles. 60 Years Ago, November 12, 1946 Stemming and pitting of cherries, for sale to maraschino and glace markets, is now in full swing in The Dalles, a survey revealed today. The Dalles Cooperative Growers recently completed the stemming and pitting of 1,500 barrels of cherries. The Columbia Growers Cooperative is now at work on another 2,000 barrels of fruit and Hudson-Duncan is at work on 17,000 barrels of cherries, some of them shipped in from other fruit producing areas of the Pacific Northwest. Hood River's superior power, plus the superlative passing of halfback Don O'Leary, produced a 39-0 victory over The Dalles Indians yesterday afternoon, but the Blue Dragons powerhouse was held impotent during most of the first half of the game. Two boatmen from The Dalles, Dr. F.A. Perkins and R.A. Brouhard, at 6:10 yesterday evening recovered the body of a two-year-old boy, who had fallen from a boat dock into Northwestern Lake and drowned. The lake is near White Salmon, Wash. The boy was from Portland. The Dalles men found his body about 1,000 feet from the dock. 80 Years Ago, November 12, 1926 Meeting a resistance which almost swept the team from its feet by its unexpectedness, and having its runners nailed in their tracks time after time by a defense which broke through the hitherto impregnable Indian line, The Dalles High School football eleven battled its way to the end of a scoreless game against Hood River High on Gibson field yesterday. Construction of a meat packing plant in The Dalles is being contemplated by the Huston brothers, according to Leonard J. Huston. While plans have not been fully developed, the Hustons expect to spend in the neighborhood of $20,000 in the erection and equipping of a modern packing plant. The Vogt estate will begin construction soon of a modern store building on Washington street in the space now occupied by the Williams clothing works, the Columbia Realty and Loan company and the Hartwig Floral Shop. 100 Years Ago, November 12, 1906 The range in the Shaniko section of the county is in worse condition this fall than in years past, and sheep and cattlemen are certainly having a hard time of it trying to find grass sufficient to keep their stock alive until the snow falls, when feeding will begin. The anxiety of three young men who came to this city from Trout Lake to meet their German brides Saturday, ended yesterday morning when No. 5 pulled in at the depot, or was partially pulled in by the anxious swains, and the three red cheeked, sweet faced, German girls stepped off and were fairly "gobbled up" by the advent lovers who didn't even hesitate to make choices, but grabbed the first one who came his way. The local team of gridiron champions returned from Corvallis last night in the shadow of their first defeat, but they did not feel so bad about the defeat as they did about the way they were treated and entertained by the Farmer Bunch against which they played. Manager Stubling says they [sic] best team won, and that The Columbias could not have won - all they could do or expected to do was to play a scoreless game and he feels they would have done this had they received full justice at the hands of Referee Bilkington, who, by the way, played Fullback for the O.A.C.'s (Oregon Agricultural College) last year and is naturally partial to their cause. After the game, there was a party given for the O.A.C. team by the co-eds, but The Columbias were not wanted. They were informed there was a dance for them across from the hotel, and on presenting themselves, were asked to "dig up" 50 cents "per capita." Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program

Monday, March 12, 2007 Welcoming canoe visitors Celilo Chief Olsen Meanus, Jr., greets visiting tribal canoe families during a March 10 ceremony in which the canoes are invited ashore with words of welcome and sacred songs. The tribes gathered to commemorate the loss of Celilo Falls 50 years ago. See more photos of the weekend events on Page A12. Hundreds of people turned out for the two-day event, which drew tribal attendance from around the Pacific Northwest, as well as a general audience. Parked cars stretched along the road almost a mile, and many visitors lined up for the grilled salmon dinner. Displays, crafts, dancing and speakers rounded out the events. Mark Gibson photo Article copied from http://www.thedalleschronicle.com/ Incoming and Outgoing messages protected by Trend Micro PC-cillin program