The Leonard's Bridge Crash of 1896 As told by W.S. Grant to Margaret Walker of The Dalles Chronicle, October 26, 1921. Early freighters of Central Oregon endured inclement weather, camped in the open with their heavy wagons drawn by six, eight or ten-horse teams, came to The Dalles regularly before 1910 to receive dry goods, groceries and other commodities for cities of eastern and central Oregon. Many of these freighters brought great loads of wool and wheat into The Dalles and carried merchandise on their return trips. They were fearless and uncomplaining, drove over steep grades with precipitous hillsides down into deep canyons far below. Whitening bones and broken wagons many yards below the roads told the silent story of terrible accidents, where freighters, stagecoaches and emigrants and their horses or oxen plunged down to their mangling deaths, or were badly hurt miles from the closest help. W.S. Grant, now a rancher of Condon, often made trips from Condon and Fossil to The Dalles with double freight wagons drawn by teams of eight and ten horses. "I would enjoy telling you of one of these experiences," Mr. Grant related, adding, "It was the last of June 1896 that I came to The Dalles to get a load of goods for one of the Fossil merchants. I started bright and early one morning, with an eight-horse team and two wagons, one trailed behind the other. I could make the trip down in two days; but it was uphill going back and, with the heavy load, I would need five or six days for the return trip. I needed good horses and I had some dandies. There were two big bays, which I bought the year before for all the cash I could scrape together. I'd had the other six for several years and they had drawn many a heavy load over the hills for me. Whenever I came in from the trip, my wife and children seemed about as glad to see the horses as me! Kit, the big gray mare, was their favorite. All four children piled on her back at once and she didn't mind it a bit, just walked as careful as she could so they wouldn't fall off. "At noon I always stopped at the nearest place where we could get water. After I had watered the horses and taken off their bridles, I'd put on the nosebags, so they could eat their grain; then I'd open my grub box and eat my lunch. At night I usually camped near some farm house, and after I had tended to the horses, I'd roll up in my blankets for the night. There were two toll bridges to go over on this trip. One was across the Deschutes River at Miller's and the other was the Leonard bridge over the John Day. "We got into The Dalles on the evening of the third day. I put the horses up at a feed yard and stayed at a hotel that night. The next morning I got out bright and early to see to the horses and get ready for the return trip. I received the goods and had both wagons loaded by noon. As soon as I could get my dinner, I started but had to go slow and let the horses rest often on the hills. On the third night I camped at the Leonard toll bridge on the John Day River. It was an old bridge made of heavy timbers and about 400 feet long. Before long, two other freighters with outfits like mine came along and stopped to camp. We talked a while that evening but turned in soon to get a good night's rest, for we wanted to start early next morning before the heat of the day started. "We all hitched up about the same time. One of the other fellows started out ahead of me and I let him get across before I started, for eight big work horses and two heavily-loaded freight wagons are no light load on a bridge. As soon as he pulled off, I started on. The horses lifted their feet in a queer way and seemed to be looking for something! We had just gotten well onto the middle of the bridge when it began to quiver. 'Oh, God!' I thought, 'She's going down!" Well, sir, those horses just stood stock still, with heads up and every muscle as tense as steel just as if they knew what was coming. "The bridge swayed for an instant; the timbers creaked and groaned, and then the big piers gave way and down we went! It seemed that we were going through space for a long time. I jumped from the wagon when we started to fall. The floor of the bridge was bolted and fastened together with heavy timbers and it held together. It fell across the timbers that had gone first, in a tilted position. I went into the water at the edge of the bridge on the high side of the floor. When I drew myself up so I could see the ruin, something seemed to snap in my brain. I felt a terrible rage against the man that had let all that happen by his negligence. "The heavy wooden piers had fallen across the horses and wagons, pinning the whole outfit on that tilted surface. Some of the horses' legs had been driven clear through the floor! Nearest to me was Kit, the horse we all loved the most. A big beam had fallen across her back and seemed to have cut her body in two! I struck out and swam for shore, crazy mad. There were five men standing on the bank and not one of them did a thing to help me out! I guess they were too surprised to move when they saw me swimming out, as if nothing happened. I climbed up the bank and then everything became dark. "When I came to myself again, they had me in a bed. Three of my ribs were broken and one knee was banged up pretty bad. The men were out trying to get what they could out of the water. They told me afterwards that four of the horses were still alive, but two of them were suffering so much that they had to be shot. The other two slid off where the water was not very deep. They were not hurt very badly, but they had to stand in the water nearly over their backs for eight hours, and when the men finally got the timbers away so they could get them out, they were so chilled that only the best of care saved their lives and they never were any good for work after that! "Everything that went down was a practical loss, except me, and how I ever got out was surely a miracle! At least my folks thought so and they didn't seem to mind the other loss so much when they knew I was alive. I tried to get damages, but I couldn't get anything, never even got my $3 toll back! The merchants stood the merchandise loss. I had a lot of 4th of July stuff in the wagons and the folks found bunting and sacks of peanuts down the river for 10 or 12 miles! My wife came after me the next day and took me home in a bed in the bottom of the hack. I was laid up all summer!" Editors' note: Margaret Patison Walker Mumau, born in 1887, wrote for The Dalles Chronicle for several years, then taught English at Oregon State College. She was the daughter of Bernice Capitola Grant and James M. Patison who were married in 1886 at Wamic, Oregon. Her siblings were Clyde Huston Patison, Phyllis Mae Patison Patrick and Kenneth Clifford Patison. Bernice Capitola Grant was a sister of Kittie Grant, who married John Winston Allen, and W.S. Grant of this story. Kittie was the great-grandmother of James Q. Johnson of Wasco County, Oregon. Visit the National-Award-Winning Sherman County Historical Museum Moro, Oregon www.shermanmuseum.org/ May through October Daily 10-5 [email protected] USGenWeb - www.rootsweb.com/~orsherma/index.htm