WPA Interviews for Linn County Oregon

Finley, Lena Florence (Stafford)

INTERVIEW, Leslie L. Haskin, Apr 2, 1940

Interview with Mrs. Lena Florence (Stafford) Finley.

My name is Lena Florence (Stafford) Finley. My maiden name was Stafford.

My father was J. M. (James Monroe) Stafford and he came to Oregon with his parents in 1852 when he was but a small boy. My mother was Sarah Stafford, daughter of Samuel Hardman and came to Oregon with her parents in 1850 when she was just 20 months old. Young as she was she could remember a little of that trip for I have heard her tell how her grandfather used to lead her by the hand along the dusty road beside the oxen and of his cracking his long whip to urge the oxen on. That grandfather of my mother's, (My great grandfather) was probably Benjamin Hardman but of his first name I am not entirely sure. Mother was born near South Bend, Indiana. Her birthday was the 18th of May, but without the family records I cannot positively tell the year. (Note: Subtracting her age at starting for Oregon from the date of her trip to Oregon would make it 1849. L. Haskin) She died on September 17, 1919.

My father was ten years old when he came to Oregon. He rode a pony most of the way and helped to herd the cattle of the train. I can only tell you a few incidents of my father's life. I have heard him tell a great many things but I do not remember many of the amusing little incidents of pioneer days which he told me while living.

My grandfather's home where my father was raised was on the Mohawk River in Lane County, ten or twelve miles east of Springfield. In the early days the roads were not well planned and many of the first ones were mere trails. Since the grades were difficult it was necessary to go right up over many step hills because to go angling up as is done now would certainly result in an overturned wagon. When my father was ten years old-the first year that he was in Oregon, he and his brother Marion were sent by their father to get some pigs from a settler named Vandine living near present Coburg. To reach Coburg it was necessary to go directly over the high mountain visible from the highway east of that place. Uncle Marion was at that time about fifteen years old. By the time they got to Coburg with their slow ox team, and got the hogs loaded, it was almost night. Under the circumstances they hoped that Mr. Vandine would ask them to stay over until morning but he did not, so the boys started back on their long wild trip very late in the day. There was no real road, only a trace through the scattered timber. It was a black night and when they had reached the top of the mountain they could go no further. They had no lantern, it was freezing cold, and bears and wolves were then very common. Uncle Marion had a coat but father had none. At the top of the mountain they unhitched their oxen and tied them to the trees. The two boys raked fallen leaves into a pile in a hollow and burrowed into them for the night. Uncle Marion gave my father his coat. Father always thought that was so wonderful of him. He never got over his gratitude to his older brother and all his life he considered Uncle Marion a wonderful man.

I think our family never did forgive old man Vandine for letting those two young boys start from his place late at night like that. We always considered that it was just a case of his being too stingy to give them a bed and meal. However, a daughter of my youngest brother married his grandson so I guess it is now all in the family. (Virginia Stafford Simpson is a daughter of that marriage. She lives at Eugene.)

My uncle Marion went to the Rogue River War when the Indian troubles broke out.

Bethel Stafford was my father's brother. He married Jennie Thompson and they made their home north of Halsey. Jennie Thompson had a brother Hugh and one named Floyd, and a sister named Mattie. Their father was a methodist Preacher. (Not certain, but this was probably Mercer Thompson of the Shedd neighborhood L. H.)

William Stafford, my grandfather, built a house north of Halsey which is still standing there. It is a very good example of an old pioneer home but it is now going to ruin. (Note: A photo of this house has been sent in L. H.) I can remember visiting with my grandfather's family. At that time they were living in a house he had built in Halsey. While I was there their house got on fire and some rather amusing things happened. A Mrs. Bramwell, a pioneer of that neighborhood was also visiting there and she, herself, was a curiosity to me. She wore a short dress, a strange thing at that time, and below her dress she had on a pair of trousers gathered at the ankle and with lace trimmings about the bottoms. (Pantalettes). She was in every way a very dressy woman. When smoke began to come out through the walls and through the floors everyone became very excited. Grandmother had a dish pan full of water and potato peelings. Mrs. Bramwell was stooping at the fireplace trying to look up the chimney and grandmother tried to throw her pan of water and peelings up the chimney at the same time. The result that Mrs. Bramwell and her dress and pantalettes were thoroughly drenched with dirty water and peelings. There was a parlor organ in the house which was the most treasured possession there. I can remember the women tugging and pulling at the precious organ trying to get it out of the house before it burned. After all it proved that the fire was in the chimney alone and no real damage was done.

My grandfather Stafford came to Oregon in 1852. The train reached the Willamette Valley in May, 1853, having been delayed on the road by the Cholera. Some of the party were almost drowned on the way while crossing the Platte River. Grandfather started for Oregon with three span of oxen and one pony. On the plains they had to burn two of the wagons for fuel and to kill most of the poor bony oxen for food. They finally reached Oregon with only one wagon and one team. (The wagons were all new when they started.)

My grandmother was Pracilla Stafford. Her maiden name was Pracilla Ramsay. She was a sister of Barnett Ramsay, Oregon's first potter. When grandmother reached Oregon she was the mother of seven children, all born in Missouri, and she was only 27 years old. Later, in Oregon there were three more children born.

Grandmother was a very timid person and she, herself often laughed at some of the 'crazy' things that she did when frightened. I have often heard her tell how she kept the Indians from stealing her many children. She and the children travelled in a wagon which was also used for carrying the bedding. Grandmother had an old, useless, rusty pistol. The old thing would not shoot even had grandmother possessed sufficient courage to shoot it. The Indians would come to the side of the wagon and try secretly to reach under the cover and take a child away. Grandmother, when she heard a movement along the side would point her old rusty pistol at them and her eyes were so big and blue and she looked so serious that it would scare them. She got all of her children safely through to Oregon but later one died of Erysipelas and one by snake bite.

Grandfather settled on the Mohawk River in Lane County. After they were settled there the Indians were at times threatening. One day some men came over the ridge from the Calapooia Valley and gave warning that the Indians were coming to attack. The people of the neighborhood took their oxen and wagons and all moved down to Simmons Mill. They carried supplies for several days, formed their wagons into a circle and camped there. Later they learned that the alarm was only a practical joke.

In those early days there were no insane asylums. Further up the river from Grandfather's claim there lived a man named Ramsey. (He was no relation to the "Potter" Ramsay, spoken of later.) Ramsey was crazy and the controlled him by keeping him chained to a tree. One time a neighbor came past the house and told grandmother that "Crazy Ramsey" was loose and coming that way. Grandmother was so frightened that she ran and locked herself in the pantry and left all her children outside to take care of themselves.

The man who ran the Simmons mill of which I have already spoken was the husband of one of grandfather Stafford's sisters. One of his daughters by a later marriage married Jacob Ramsay, a son of Barnett Ramsay the potter. (Note: Her name was Louisa Simmons. L.H.) Simmons after running a mill on the Mohawk also became a partner in the old flouring mill at Shedd, or rather east of Shedd at the old town of "Boston" on the Calapooia.

In the early days almost all of the men were dressed in buckskin. It was nice and soft when it was fresh and dry, but when it was water soaked it dried like a board. One of father's neighbors once was out in a soaking rain. When he came in he sat down by the fireplace to dry and sat so long that when he tried to get up he could not straighten his legs. They were held bent in the stiff buckskin legs as stiff and firm as a straight-jacket. He had to wet his pants again to straighten out his legs.

When I was a small child there was one caller who often came to our house whom I well remember. His name was Jesse Applegate. He came to see us often. He was very tall, six fact, six at least. He would stand in front of the fireplace warming his back and spit tobacco juice all over the floor. Would mother get mad!!!

My grandmother, Pracilla Ramsay Stafford had a brother who came to Oregon with them in 1852. His name was Barnett Ramsay. He was a potter by trade. He took up a claim on the Molawk in Lane County, not far from my grandfather's claim. There he established what I believe was the first pottery in Oregon. When I lived at home on the Mohawk we had a great many jugs and jars made by Great Uncle Barnett. Long after he moved away there could still be found the broken pieces of pottery on his place where his old kiln used to stand. Of course that was long before my day but I believe that my brother on the old place still has some of his work. A niece of whom I have already spoken, Mrs. Virginia Simpson, who lives at 10th and Mill Street in Eugene, still has one particular jar which I well remember because it had been dented in the making and was not quite true in shape.

My mother used to tell of a joke which Uncle Barnett Ramsey played upon her. She was watching him make a jug and he had it all done except the handle. He asked mother, "Which side do you think this handle should be put?." Mother began to examine the jug. She said, "I don't think that it makes any difference. All the sides are the same." Uncle Barnett said, "Well, don't you think it should be put on the outside?"

To reach the old Ramsay claim where the first pottery was situated go east through Eugene to Springfield, then north-east to what is known as the Harden Bridge across the McKenzie River. Then travel about two miles north. Altogether it is about eleven from Eugene.

Barnett Ramsey sold his claim sometime about the year 1860 or 1861. In 1862 he purchased a place about five miles north of Lebanon and established his second pottery there. In 1864 he sold his land again and this time he purchased a farm north-east of present Halsey in Linn County and there he established his third pottery. He ran that pottery until the time of his death in 1872. He died in Southern Oregon while there on a visit at the home of one of his sons. His death was very sudden. It was caused by "cholera Morbus"-that was what the doctors called it then. Today they would say appendicitis. He had been subject to that trouble for a great many years. In fact, he had repeated attacks before coming to Oregon. His death occurred on August 26, 1872. He was first buried near where he died but upon the death of his wife his body was removed to lie beside hers in the Central Christian Church Cemetery a few miles east of Albany.

Barnett Ramsay's wife was Elizabeth. She was of German descent. There was a William Gulliford who came to Oregon in the same train in 1852 and his wife was a sister of Barnett Ramsay's wife.

Another pioneer family which was related to the Ramsays was that of William T. Templeton who settled near Brownsville in 1847. Templeton's wife, "Betsy" was a sister of Barnett Ramsay.

This, I think, is all that I can give you on the "Potter" Ramsay history.

One of his daughters, Malissa Ramsay, married Joseph Powell who was, I believe, a son of John Powell the early Christian Minister on the Santiam east of Albany. You might get further information concerning the family from the Powell descendants now living at Cottage Grove.

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Now I will give you a list of my grandfather Stafford's children. The first seven were born in Missouri. They were:

Marion Stafford. Born about 1837.

Matilda Stafford.

James Madison Stafford. (My father) Born about 1842.

Newell Stafford. Died of erysipalis soon after reaching Oregon.

Wilson Stafford.

John Stafford. Died from snake bite in early pioneer days.

Bethel Stafford.

The following, younger children, were born in Oregon.

Barnett Stafford. Named after Barnett Ramsay the potter.

{Alice Stafford.

{Betty Stafford. Those last were twins. Betty died at the age of about two years.

My father, James Madison Stafford, and my mother, Sarah Hardman Stafford had the following family:

Frank Stafford.

Lena Florence Stafford. (The informant) She married Dr. J.J. Finley.

Clara Stafford. Married name Haines.

Geneva Stafford. Married name Seavey.

Laura Stafford. Married name Hanson.

Pearl Stafford. Married name Spence.

Fred Stafford.

Walter Stafford.

Glenn Stafford. Married Miss Vandine.

Loyd Stafford.

Esther Stafford. Married name Moznett. Lives at Albany, Georgia.

My father served in the Oregon Legislature from Lane County for two terms. He was also urged to run for Sheriff of Lane County but persistently refused.

My husbands name is J. J. Finley. He is a dentist by profession. His practice and our home was in Mexico City for many years. He retired and returned to the United States about 25 years ago.

(Note: Mrs. Finley's birth date or age was not learned but in appearance she is a woman of perhaps seventy years. Her permanent home is at 9th and Adams Streets, Corvallis, Benton County, Oregon.)

Copyright © 2000 Patricia Dunn. All rights reserved. This transcription may not be reproduced in any media without the express written permission by the author. Permission has been given by the Transcriber to publish on the LGS web site.