Bef 1888 - 1944 (~ 56 years)WPA Interview: Tycer, Lewis
INTERVIEW, with Mr. Lewis Tycer, Brownsville, Ore.,
Mr. Tycer, interviewed at his home on Kirk Avenue gave the writer the following history of his family.
My father's name, like my own, was Lewis Tycer. He was born near Knoxville, Tennessee in the year 1806. Later the family seems to have moved to North Carolina, then to Virginia, then to Tennessee, then to Missouri, and finally to Oregon.
My father was twice married. The first time he married his wife's name was Sarah S. (Maiden name not remembered.) That was on January 22, 1829 according to our rather imperfect family records. Sarah S. Tycer, my father's first wife was born April 22, 1814. My father, let me mention here, was of French descent.
Of my father's family, most of which were left in Missouri, I know very little. I know that he had one brother named Allen Tycer, but very little more. In recent years I chanced to meet a man from Missouri who had seen and known him (Allen Tycer) there.
My father has told me that he and his brother Allen were on the road moving from Tennessee to Missouri on the day when the stars fell. (That is, the great meteor shower of the early 1830's.) They were on the road, traveling with an ox team at the time. One of the brothers had killed a deer and had purchased some sweet potatoes from a wayside farmer. That evening they had fresh venison and sweet potatoes for supper. Father had finished his supper and had gone to bed in the wagon. Uncle Allen was still sitting at the fire eating venison and sweet potatoes. Suddenly Uncle Allen called to father, "It's snowing stars! Look out!" Father raised up and pushed the wagon curtains aside, and it was light enough outside to read a newspaper. The stars were shooting across the sky in every direction. It really looked as though all of the stars in the sky were falling. That was the night from which the Millerites, now usually called the Seventh Day Adventists, reckon time for the ending of the Christian age. They consider it a fulfillment of the bible prophesy of Matthew 24:29. That shower of meteors occurred, I believe, about the year 1832.
My mother, my father's second wife was born in Missouri on Jan. 11, 1834. Her name was Jane Frances Sanders. My father and mother were married in Missouri, but the exact date I cannot tell.
By his first marriage my father had five children. I give their names as well as I know them:
By his second wife, my father had seven children of whom I am the oldest. Their names and birth dates are as follows:
My parents reached Oregon in 1853, having been five months on the road. Their crossing of the plains was fairly uneventful save for storms, which beset them, especially on the Platte River. My father used to say that all the storms ever started came from the Platte River. One mishap of the trip was the death of my oldest brother, three or four years of age. I did not list him in the family roll previously given you. His name was Belfield Tycer. Of course they were forced to withstand all of the common hardships, which befell all emigrants. The Indians were not especially troublesome yet guard had to be maintained at all times to prevent them from running off the stock.
Father first settled on land east of Crawfordsville (about two or three miles), and on the mountain. Later he rented the Jas. McHargue place on Courtney Creek. Finally he traded his land east of Crawfordsville for land owned by Andrew Warren on the north side of the Calapooia between Brownsville and Crawfordsville. This was land which Andrew Warren had purchased, not a part of his donation land claim. Father at first obtained forty acres of Warren and then, little by little, added to his holdings. I now own this land, having purchased it from the other heirs of my father's estate.
What little schooling I obtained was received from the various districts about the country. I first went to school in the McHargue schoolhouse on Courtney Creek. The people of the neighborhood would hire a teacher and the pupils would pay according to the number of days attended by each child. You paid just for the days on which you attended school. At a later date I attended school at what is now known as the "Warren District" about six miles northeast of Brownsville. When I and my brother and sisters attended school at the McHargue schoolhouse we crossed the river by means of a "big drift" which was situated on the "Gray Rice" farm, we then circled around to the Jas. McHargue home, and so reached the schoolhouse. It was necessary to go a considerable distance out of our way because of high water in sloughs and creeks. However, the school term usually lasted only about three months in the spring when the creeks and rivers had gone down enough to make it safe for children to cross.
My last teacher used to travel about the neighborhood on an Indian pony to collect the school fees due her for her work.
One of my first teachers was "Father Robert Robe", a pioneer Presbyterian preacher. He served the Presbyterian church at Brownsville for over thirty years. His home was not far from the Andrew Warren Place, northwest of Crawfordsville. Other teachers under whom I studied were: - Luella Colbert who later married a Robnette. She still lives at Crawfordsville. I also studied under her sister Violet Colbert for a short time. John McHargue was another, later, teacher. He boarded at my father's house. Still another teacher whom I almost missed mentioning was Narcissa Osborn, daughter of Josiah Osborn. Osborn was a wagon maker. The family was staying at the Whitman mission at the time of the massacre, and Josiah Osborn was the only mature man who escaped. They got away by hiding under the floor of a cabin during the massacre. Narcissa Osborn was, of course, named after Narcissa Whitman. Other names of the Osborn children were: Narcissa, Margaret, Miranda, Malinda, and one son Wilson (?).
Speaking of Josiah Osborn and his wagon making, my half brother John Tycer once paid $300.00 for a fine handmade hack, which was especially ordered by his father-in-law Hugh L. Brown. I remember how fine I thought it was, and wondering how in the world anyone could ever get together as much as $300.00! Late, but while I was yet only a boy I went across the river to the old Templeton homestead to buy some leghorn hens. When it came to the deal I thought the price rather high, and said so. "Bert" Templeton with whom I was dealing laughed and said, "Oh, never mind that. Some day you will be rich and ride in a top buggy." I remember wondering whether I would ever be that well off. Out on my farm I still have an old buggy, which has not been used for many years. My wife wants me to sell it, but I do not care to. Who would have believed that I would not only own a top buggy for which I had no use, but also live to see the day when a top-buggy was an out-of-date and useless thing!
There were many expert workmen in and about Brownsville in the early days. Joseph Sagie was a cabinetmaker that made fine cupboards, tables, bureaus and bedsteads. His home was on the riverbank in east Brownsville, just back of the residence now owned by Mrs. Vincent. (About the center of east Brownsville). His land is all gone into the river now, however, for the river has shifted its course and cut off many acres of fine bottomland. Sagie was a German and a very strong Catholic.
Another expert furniture maker in Brownsville was a man by the name of Arnold. He made this chair in which I am sitting. My father bought it about the year 1864 (For $8.00). (I do not remember Arnold's first name).
His son, William Arnold ("Bill") died only a few years ago. He was also a fine furniture make and also made good violins. When father went to see the elder Mr. Arnold to buy these chairs, Bill was working in the shop. He was just a boy. He had used his father's tools and odd bits of wood and had made two small chairs. My father bought those little chairs for 75 cents each. While I was out at my farm a few months ago I found them still in good shape in the chamber. Mrs. Leon Morse begged me to give one of them to her, so I now have one of them and she has the other. They are very rough and crude but still strong and useful. The seats of those little chairs were of rawhide, and were cut from the skin of an elk - they are still in good condition. This chair in which I am sitting, though good and strong, had its seat renewed a number of times.
As I have said, "Bill" Arnold was a good violinmaker. In the old days it was commonly believed by church people that "There was a Devil in the fiddle". When Bill was finishing a very nice violin, I remember his father saying, "Bill, do not put any Devil in that fiddle."
My brothers "Bud" (Columbus) and George were both good fiddlers. I could "saw" with the bow but never really learned to play.
The Finley Mill near Crawfordsville was the first built in the year 1848. The first building was only a small one, and was washed away by the floods of 1862. At the time it was washed away it was being used as a pig house, and about twenty fat hogs owned by the miller were lost in the flood. My father hewed out the big timbers which are still standing in the present Finley Mill. No one seems to know just when the present building was erected but I know from my father's statement that it was since 1853, for he arrived that year, and worked on the mill a year or tow later. (On being informed that Mrs. Brandon, daughter of Miller Finley had stated that the original building stood for several years after the second was erected, Mr. Tycer was very pleased, since it assured him that he was right in thinking his father had worked on it in 1854 or 1855. L. Haskin, Field worker.)
The Indians were very numerous about this valley when I was a boy. It is the truth that I used to see many more Indians than whites, but that was because the Indians were always traveling about and the whites stayed at home and worked and attended to their affairs. An old Indian would come along in the rainiest day, turn his ponies and settle down to camp without any other shelter than a big fir tree. Sometimes they became very troublesome, but it was rather dangerous to try to restrain them. However, it is said that Riley Kirk, father of Andrew Kirk who still lives at Brownsville, would thrash the Indians soundly whenever they became too troublesome, a thing that most settlers did not dare to do.
My mother was well acquainted with Indian Lize, who is commonly called "the last of the Calapooias." Just how old Liza was when she died (about the year 1923) no one knows. Liza often said that she was over one hundred years old. However, my mother lived next to Liza when Liza was a young married woman with two small children. Mother at that time was about seventeen years old.
The Indians ate many roots and fruits, which I do not now know, but I do remember the sacks of camas, which they sometimes carried with them. One year an Indian brought a sack of dried camas and left it with my father to keep for him. There was a little hole in the bottom corner of the sack. I was very fond of dried camas, and whenever I happened near that sack I would reach into that hole and take out some to eat. When the Indian returned the sack was decidedly empty, and the Indian was very angry. Father pacified him by telling him to go into the garden and help himself to whatever he thought fair. The Indian filled two or three sacks of carrots, beets, turnips, etc., and went away feeling better.
The hills were full of deer in those early days and it was never any trouble to get plenty of meat.
I can well remember when, from Brownsville eastward, there were only five or six settled farms. Now it is built up all along the way. Beginning at Brownsville there was first, the Blakelys, then the Browns, then Rev. Spaulding's place, and after that Hugh Fields. The ford across the Calapooia where we most often crossed was near the Hugh Fields place, perhaps half a mile east of the junction of the Brownsville-Crawfordsville highway and the Courtney Creek road.
In the early days the Blakely boys; George, Henry, and Jim, had a track where they raced horses. It lead out from the main road, southward, near their home. I remember well going with my dad to Brownsville one time when I was small. Dad stopped near Blakely's to see the horses running, and I stood there and watched too. A boy a little bigger than I came up and we got to fighting together. I got well beat up.
In those days almost everyone rode horseback. Horses were used, too, to tramp out the grain after it had been cut with a cradle.
When my father came to Oregon there was quite an emigration from his Missouri neighborhood. Among those who came in the same train were Uncle Billy McHargue, George Cooley, and Gray Rice. All of these still have descendants living at Brownsville. Curran Cooley who runs the Southside store is a son of George Cooley. Mrs. Hanson, and Mrs. Jos. Hume of South Brownsville are nieces of Billy McHargue. There are also many of the Rice family still living in this region.
My father has often told me of a conversation, which took place about a campfire during the emigration. The men were talking about what they expected to do when they got to Oregon. They especially remarked about the pay for work, which they hoped to secure. Gray Rice said, "If I can get a dollar a day, that is all that I want." (Where they had come from "two bits" a day was all they could get). Later Gray Rice became quite well to do but he always dressed very plainly-almost shabbily. At one time the men of the neighborhood were thrashing grain on the ground, driving horses about over it and winnowing it with forks. While they were thus engaged the assessor came along and began to list their property. Gray Rice seemed so shabby and poor that the officer almost missed him. Finally however, he asked, "Have you any land? Any stock? Any money? The answer was "no" until the last question, when Rice said, "Well, I guess you can put me down for a thousand dollars." The Assessor nearly tumbled over. A thousand dollars was real wealth in those days.
At another time Gray Rice was picked up by a passing stranger and given a ride. He was so shabby that the stranger mistook him for a hobo, and asked him, "Wouldn't you really rather get a job and work than to tramp the roads in this way?" Mr. Rice told the story on himself and enjoyed it greatly.
When R. C. Finley built his flourmill near what are now Crawfordsville, people brought their wheat to be ground for many miles. This was at the time the only flourmill running south of Oregon City. Later the flourmill was built at Brownsville and this cut heavily into Finley's custom, since the farmers naturally did not travel further than was necessary to get their wheat ground. Mr. Finley's reply to this competition was to build the "Boston Mill" out in the valley several miles below Brownsville. The old Boston mill is still standing.
When we were still living above Crawfordsville we had a neighbor named Philpot. It was the custom of the father, when they were short of flour, to put his two little boys upon a horse, tie a sack of wheat on with them, and send them to Brownsville to have it ground. One day these boys on approaching Brownsville were forced to cross an ash swale where water stood to the depth of a foot or more. While crossing this swale the sack of wheat was shaken loose and fell into the water. The boys were not able to lift the wheat back upon the horse, so it lay and soaked for some time before they could devise means of hoisting it up. They then took it on to the mill. They supposed that the wheat was spoiled, but the miller assured them that he could dry it out and it would be all right. However, it could not be made into flour that day, so he simply exchanged it for an equable amount of flour and sent them on home. The delay had caused the day to pass long before they were ready to start back but they took the long trip, perhaps eight or ten miles, alone in the night. They would have been very hungry, for they had no lunch, save that a kindly neighbor saw them pass late at night and called them in for supper. That is merely an illustration of the way small boys learned self-reliance in pioneer days.
My half sister, Tennessee Teresa Tycer married James Preston Lewis. Their home was in what is known as the Fern Ridge neighborhood between Holly and Sweet Home. At one time, in the early days, there was a great Indian scare in their neighborhood. Something startled my sister's family and they ran out from their home and ran to the nearest neighbors. These joined them in their flight, and so the panic spread from neighbor to neighbor and from house to house. One woman who was carrying a small child, hit the child's head against a tree in her flight, and for a time it was feared that its head had been crushed. All finally took refuge among thick brush in a deep canyon. There they waited throughout the night. Once while they were waiting they heard the dogs back in the settlement begin to bark, and they said to each other. "Now the Indians are at the cabins. They will carry off everything that we have and burn the houses." In the morning, however, when they finally returned cautiously they found their houses still standing and not a thing touched. It was finally decided that the cause of the panic was the low flight of an immense flock of wild geese, which, confused in storm and fog had dropped very low and frightened a band of horses. These horses, stampeding through the night had been mistaken for wildly riding Indians.
My half sister's husband, as stated above, was John Marion Lewis. The Lewis family was pioneers of 1852. Their emigration to Oregon was, in many ways, an unfortunate one. The head of the family at that time was Fielding Lewis Jr., born in 1811. His wife was Lucinda M. Lewis. While crossing the plains she was taken sick with Mountain Fever and died. She was buried near the Snake River. Their son, Charles Wesley Lewis died near Burnt River. Another son, Marion Lewis died near the upper Cascades, and a daughter, Mary Ellen Lewis died soon after they had reached Vancouver. James Preston Lewis, my half-sister's husband was twenty-two years old at that time. He had been acquainted with my sister Tennessee Teresa Tycer before they left Missouri. They were married here in Linn County on November 22, 1853, only a short time after my father and his family reached Oregon. (Six weeks). They were married by the Reverend H. H. Spaulding. James Preston Lewis later served as County Assessor of Josephine county. He died in 1906. His son, John Marion Lewis served as County Treasurer of Multnomah County for thirty four years."
In conclusion Mr. Tycer said: - "I was married on December 16, 1888. My wife's name was Miss Ella McCormack of Benton County. Her people were Pioneers of 1854-1856.
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.
| Owner of original | Transcribed by Patricia Dunn |
| Linked to | WPA Interviews for Linn County Oregon; Lewis Berry Tycer |
