Joseph Calvin Wooley

Wooley, Joseph Calvin

INTERVIEW, with Joseph Calvin Wooley, Harrisburg, Oregon, May 9, 1940.

I was born in Grundy County, Missouri, on October 22, 1855. My birthplace was at the Wooley farm which was nine miles from the town of Trenton.

During the period before and during the Civil War Missouri was a battleground of opposing political factions. My father was a southern sympathizer and with the coming of actual war he sold out and started for California. He began the journey on May 1, 1863. I was eight years old at that time.

When my father reached California we first settled on the McCallamie River (Spelling uncertain) about nine miles east of Stockton. We arrived there in November. We left there again in February of 1864. Father had plowed ground and put in a crop of wheat but the winter was dry and with high winds and the wind blew away all of the plowed ground and the seed wheat.

After that father decided to leave California and try Oregon. I might say that our party at that time consisted of my father and his family and a number of uncles. Among them were Uncle George Mitchell, Uncle Allen Murphy, Uncle Jim White and Uncle John Wooley. There was also a widow in the party. Her name was Aunt Liz White and her husband, Jim White had died on the plains on the way to California.

We left Stockton in February, 1864 and reached Klamath Falls in a few weeks. There we were met by old Colonel Applegate and a party of soldiers for the Indians were disorderly at that time and there was grave danger. The soldiers stopped us there on the McCloud River for three weeks and then escorted us on to Canyonville. There we were again delayed for some time but finally were allowed to proceed on as far as South Umpqua, then to North Umpqua where we stopped long enough to build a boat for crossing. At North Umpqua Colonel Applegate and his soldiers left us and we proceeded on to Eugene where the party broke up and settled. All of the party stayed in the Willamette Valley, most of them settling near Eugene.

Soon after arriving in the Willamette Valley father obtained occupation in the building of a mill for B. J. Pengra at Springfield. He had that mill nearly completed but while at that work he was compelled to go up the river to cut a gin-pole. The log that he cut lodged in falling and he went out to release it. It was lying partly in the river and in working at its base it rolled. A limb caught in father's trouser leg and he was rolled under the water and drowned. That was on July 1, 1864. His name was William Alexander Wooley. He was born in Kentucky in 1814.

It might be added here that B. J. Pengra for whom father was working at the time of his death was a very influential citizen of Lane County. He edited the Peoples Press at Eugene and might have been called The Boss of the Republican Party in Oregon at that time. He was the founder of the town of Springfield. He owned flouring and sawmills in that region besides being a stockman and farmer.

My mother's name was Luella Mitchell Wooley. She was born in Kentucky in 1814.

My father and mother came from Kentucky to Missouri in the year 1837. They had a family of nine children, three girls and five boys, (and one who died in infancy.) I was the youngest of the family, the only one now living.

When I became of age, in 1877, I went to Easter Oregon and stayed there until 1881. Then, in 1883 I was married and took my wife to the Harney Valley, near Old Fort Harney. I took up a ranch there and went into the stock business having received a little money from my mother's estate. I ran stock there until 1897 when I sold out and went to Baker City.

My wife' name was Eva (Hembree) Wooley. She has many relatives about the town of McMinnville. My wife died only about a month ago after we had lived together for seventy-eight years.

When we went to Harney County there was little there except Indians, soldiers and a few stockmen, mostly with large holdings who tried to dominate the whole country and who gave homesteaders and small owners little consideration. Besides engaging in stock raising there I became interested in mining and secured considerable interests in mines in the Mormon Basin near the Malheur County line. I finally got in too deep and was about broke up in the mines.

I have served in the capacity of Sheriff in three Counties, first in Grant County, then in Harney County and later in Baker County. I was at first bondsman for the Sheriff of Grant County and he became short on his accounts and absconded. I took over the office. Later, when Harney County was cut off from Grant County in 1889 I served as sheriff there. In 1897 I sold out in Harney County and went to Baker City. In Baker City I served as Chief of Police for a number of years and as Deputy Sheriff.

In 1916 I left Baker City and came to Harrisburg and have lived here ever since. Here at Harrisburg I have been Justice of the Peace ever since the year 1922. This, however, is my last term as I am getting too old and writing is becoming too difficult for me.

I should have said while telling of the division of Grant and Harney Counties that I was one of the surveyors who ran the line dividing the two counties. We had some difficulty in getting our line accepted by the Legislature as they wanted to take all of the Silvies Valley from Harney County but we finally got our survey accepted as first laid out.

When we first came to the Willamette Valley in the year 1864 we lived for a short time here at Harrisburg. The town was just a tiny settlement then. All of the buildings were in a row, close along the river's edge. The old mill which was later to run in the south end of town had not yet been built. As a small boy I used to fish all along the river here. Some of the early citizens then were the McCulleys, the Forgeys, the Schoolings and the Roach family.

I have said that almost all of the train which came to California in 1867 finally settled in the Willamette Valley. Most of them, however, did not remain here. Most of them moved, one by one, back to California until my mother was the only one who remained.

My father was a Presbyterian and a Scotchman as you might know from the name Wooley. (Note: Pronounced Ooley.) My brother was Rev. C. AA. Wooley. He lived across the river in Lane County and he preached all about the valley in the early days-at Luckimute, at Harrisburg, at Albany and at Lebanon. He belonged to the Cumberland Presbyterian Church for over fifty years.

Coming from Missouri our train had a number of serious encounters with the Indians. On Platte River the Indians rounded us up and kept us in camp for two days and nights. Captain Benson was our leader and he headed a train of 114 wagons. When the Indians attacked he ordered all of the wagons to form a circle. A caravan of 114 wagons makes quite a large circle. Inside of the wagons, which were chained together, wheel-to-wheel, he corralled all of the oxen and work stock and inside the circle of livestock he place the women and children. Then the grown men took their guns and stationed themselves just inside the wagons where they could fire from the protection of their loads. We had very little water and during the last part of the siege it was apportioned out a spoonful at a time.

As soon as the Indians appeared Captain Benson dispatched two men on good horses for Fort Laramie. They eluded the Indians and shortly afterwards met a party of soldiers who came to the rescue. During the wait several Indians were killed but no whites were seriously injured.

Several times during the trip our cattle were stampeded either by Indians or by buffalo. The cattle would come across the tracks of a buffalo herd and would scent the wild smell. They would begin to bellow. The rest of the cattle would take it up and soon the whole ox train would be running and bellowing and out of all control. At old Platte River my grandmother was killed in a stampede. She was 87 years old and always rode in one of the wagons, lying down. When the stampeding train plunged into the Platte River she was thrown in such a manner as to crush her chest. She died the next night. That was the only death in our family on the way save for Jim White already mentioned.

Our train had started for Oregon but because of the Indian threat we divided at the Salt Lake and part of us went to California, to the San Joaquin Valley.

When we reached Salt Lake City Brigham Young urged us to stop. Since the grass was good we stayed there for some time and held a camp meeting and rested up. It was an agreeable pause in the hard journey.

I am now 85 years old and living alone since my wife died, a very lonesome life. I doubt whether I will live here much longer as my niece in California who is well is urging me to come and live near her. However, I do not like California much better than I like living alone.

June 18, 2001

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.