Loughary Stories / Red Loughary

	Loughary Lines

YOUNG INDEPENDENCE

by Jack Loughary

Red Loughary vs Stanfield

Captain Red is the one with the ball.

As a kid, and still to some extent, I was intrigued by the thought of my father from age 9 growing up without the security of parents. His mother Myrtle Ann died in 1911, and shortly thereafter, his father William Bell arranged for the five siblings to be taken in and cared for by relatives. William Bell died in 1915 when William Ernest (Red) was 13. This circumstance had ramifications for the development at least of his children and grandchildren, and perhaps even for generations beyond that. In any case, an account of this component of his life may be interesting to his decedents. What follows is an except from "Butter Creek, Red Loughary the Stanfield Years",a manuscript I prepared in 1995.

Ernest Loughary finished the sixth grade of the Stanfield Public School in June of 1916. He was 13 years old; would be 14 on September 1. His teacher, G. J. Link, entered his grades and deportment marks on the monthly report. The latter had three categories: Attitude Toward School Work, in which Ernest was rated Very Commendable; Recitations, Very Satisfactory; and Conduct, which was Very Good. All were the best marks available. Considering that Attitude could have been marked as low as Indolent, Recitation, Seldom Does Well, or even, Comes Poorly Prepared, and Conduct, Restless, Inattentive or worse, Rude, Ernest had reason to be pleased. The spaces calling for monthly signatures of "parent or guardian" were filled first with the signature of J.F. Loughary, and then from March on by Viola Loughary, his oldest uncle and aunt, respectively.

Ernest was also doing well academically. His numerical grades in nearly all subjects translated into "Excellent". The exception was Arithmetic in which he was "Fair" to "Excellent" depending upon the month. May and June were good months. Teacher G.I. Link signed the Certificate of Promotion on the back of the report, noting that Ernest "...is eligible to promotion to grade 7."

World War I was underway, and in 1915 the Germans began the first Zeplin attack on London. "Birth of a Nation" was released, and Ford motor company produced its one millionth car. In 1916 legislation was passed that established the 8 hour work day for railroad workers and prohibited them from going on a national strike.

None of this was important to Ernest, who was struggling as best a 13 year old could to survive on his own terms. Nevertheless, the labor movement would eventually consume a significant amount of Ernest's time and energy. He would serve at the local union level, the trenches of the labor war where for decades common people fought for equality in what was proclaimed as the "land of the free and the home of the brave."

G.J. Link's entries on Ernest's "Monthly, Term and Annual Report" card for grade six began with January, 1916. This is because prior to that in 1915 Ernest resided with his Aunt Mary Etta Loughary Wade in Elgin, Oregon. Mary, who was the third child of Hiram and Martha Loughary, was born in 1873. She was 42 in 1915 and had three children of her own. Frank Wade, her entrepreneur husband, was moderately successful in farming and business in the Elgin area. As late as 1995, an inquiry about the late Frank Wade would produce directions to the "Wade place" about 2 miles out of Elgin. Elgin is located east of the Blue Mountains, and is about the last outpost of civilization in the northeastern section of the Oregon. That is not as negative as it may sound, since civilization is nearly nonexistent in the remainder of far Eastern Oregon.

For whatever reason, according to Ernest, he and his Aunt Mary didn't hit it off well. In his adult years Ernest had little good to say about her, noting only that she was a difficult person to please; picky, overly critical, often just plain nasty tempered. Ernest began residency with Frank and Mary early in 1912 when he was 9 and Mary 38, and in all fairness, taking on the responsibility of a pre-adolescent nephew when she already had three children had less than positive connotations. In addition, Frank was not known as easy man to get along with, and so adding Ernest to the family was done in with some reluctance, if not resentment. Frank probably made his feelings about keeping her brother's son known to Mary on a more or less regular basis.

This was a difficult situation for all concerned. The roles of guardian thoughtfully taken on by Mary and Frank are clearly illuminated in literature, as is that of guardian children cast in difficult situations. Most such children were not relegated to Oliver Twistian environments. Instead, they, like Ernest, were 10 going on 21 who had little to nothing to say about their fate in life. Take it or leave, one might say, but leaving was not a realistic option. There were significant family ties and a sense of responsibility to the children of one's less fortunate siblings that operated to protect children from abandonment. Mary, while displeased with her situation, was also concerned with Ernest's well being and so looked for alternative arrangements for the her nephew.

One obvious option was her brother, Fred. James Frederick Loughary was the oldest of her siblings, and lived in Stanfield with his wife Viola. In 1916 Fred and Viola had three children, ages 8, 4, and 2. Fred was 46 and Viola was 29. The obvious choice, because Fred seemed to be the most financially secure of Mary's 5 siblings, at least as it seemed to Mary, if not to Fred. In reality, Mary and Frank probably were better off, but then that is often irrelevant in such instances. Mary lacked a basis for assessing Fred's financial resources. The bare truth was that the situation with Ernest in their home was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and if her life with Frank was to return to normal, then other lodging needed to be found for Ernest. Mary raised the issue for discussion with Frank who chose to remain aloof to helping her solve the problem of Ernest's custodianship. So, based more on wishful thinking than firm facts, she wrote a strong letter to Fred describing Ernest's growing pains, and suggesting that he might be better cared for by an older uncle than a younger aunt. She closed the letter by indicating that a neighbor would be journeying through Stanfield in three week's time and would provide transportation for Ernest.

Ernest had mixed feelings when Aunt Mary informed him of the upcoming change. He was pleased if not excited about the change of venue. However, Ernest had not given up hope that somehow he and his brothers and sisters might again live under the same roof. His father had attempted to do just that for a time after his mother's death, but the children were too many and too young. His eldest sister, Oris, was 13 at the time Myrtle Loughary died, and under other circumstances might have been up to the challenge of becoming mother to 4 siblings. But her youngest sisters, Mildred 2 and Margaret 4, simply need the care of an experienced woman. Ernest evidenced early signs of maturity beyond what anyone would expect, but even with him looking after his brother Cliff, then about 7, the family infrastructure, as it would be described today, just wasn't strong enough. It is unrealistic to expect kids to raise kids. Their father, William Bell soon realized this, and turned to his and Myrtle's siblings for help. Arrangements were made very quickly, and the children distributed with the best of intentions.

Ernest had been upset by the series of events and developing circumstances, and frustrated because there was no one to whom he could turn who would help develop an alternative that would keep the family together. He understood very well that the responsibility for solving the families plight was his father, but that knowledge only contributed to the futility of the situation. To strive for other options would position him in conflict with his father, who even though not pleased with what he had arranged, at least believed that everyone was looked after.

Red's Wheels

Thus, Ernest kept his concerns to himself, and that eventually worked against his making a pleasant adjustment with with Frank and Mary Wade. These various thoughts and concerns disturbed him. His mood had become a combination of anger and frustration. Thus, it is fair to say that the news of a move to Uncle Fred's place was perceived as a hopeful change with regard to his own concerns as well as his wish that he and his siblings could remain closer even if not under that same roof.. Getting back to Echo and Stanfield on the other side of the mountain offered hope for renewed family ties.

The transfer was agreed to by a letter from Fred, and Ernest arrived at Fred and Viola's farm with measurable amounts of anxiety, hope, and optimism. The welcome from Uncle Fred was neither emotional nor unpleasant, and Aunt Viola immediately ushered him into the kitchen for a bowl of soup. Ernest was given sleeping space to share with his cousins, Ted age 8, and Guy age 4. He was pleased with his new deal in life. His memories of his Uncle Fred were uncertain, and it was clear that his Aunt Viola was more vivacious and positive than Aunt Mary, at least at first blush. As he settled in with his new family, one issue did concern him, and that was his age relative to his two cousins. After all, he was an outsider and it might have been easier for everyone if he had not, by the luck of the draw, been assigned the role of oldest boy in residence. But for now, that was simply part of the situation which he viewed as a welcome opportunity for change.

The transition was made in late December, but as the report card indicates, it was not totally implemented until February. G.J. Link's entry for Days Present was only 5 for January, after which Ernest had perfect attendance for the remainder of the year. He was not tardy even once according to Link's records.

Ernest's admirable school performance by grade 6 probably was a function of several factors. He may have been more physically mature. Ernest was 13, nearly 14, when he completed grade 6. Motivation was probably another reason for school success. It is reasonable to assume that if he was rewarded for his school for his performance, he would have strived to continue doing well. If home did not offer the security and sense of permanency that he might have desired, then doing well in school could be the means to a satisfying compensation.

Being reasonably bright and perceptive, Ernest also likely had at least an inkling that whatever he might become, it would be in significant part up to him. He was more on his own at age 13 than most boys with the future full of uncertainty. School was not an experience forced upon him, as it was by many of his peers, and due to his temporary situation in the family there was no pressure from his Uncle and Aunt to leave school and take full time employment on the farm. It was a situation in which less than possessive paternal concern was an advantage. As long as he did his share and didn't cause a ruckus, he was pretty much a free agent, or so it seemed to him.

The prospect of completing grammar school, which was all that was required in those days, under reasonably good living conditions was encouraging. He was expected to contribute to his upkeep by performing a share of household chores, which included working essentially full time during summers on Fred's farm or other projects. Having settled that to his satisfaction, like most young teenagers, he didn't give much ongoing thought to the matter.

Stanfield had developed an interesting and varied community life by the second decade of the century. Due to its isolation (and independence), and probably also to a sense of competition with neighboring Echo, the town offered cultural and recreational opportunities comparable to larger towns in the rural Northwest. Stanfield and Echo were on the circuit, as it were, regularly visited by men of commerce, government officials, and entertainers.

In addition, Ernest had positive connections. He was fortunate to make friends with Jim Bagan, a class mate. The Bagans were an outgoing family, and Sadie Bagan made sure that her home was a center for young people. She subscribed to several periodicals, borrowed books from whatever library with which she could connect, and purchased a piano (which she played and soon taught Margaret to do so also) soon after their house in Stanfield was completed. She welcomed young people to her home. And, as young people do, they came. Young Ernest, known now as Red because of his flaming bright auburn hair, was among them. The welcome message sent by the Bagan family was received enthusiastically by youngsters from families from a wide range of social and economic circumstances. Consequently, young Red, in significant part because of his friendship with Jim Bagan, augmented his home life with Fred and Viola and was able to be part of a larger community life which otherwise might not have been as readily available.

In addition to his friendship with Jim and the warm and accepting familial acceptance of Sadie Bagan, the family also offered the humor and assertiveness of John Bagan, the planful opportunistic character of Jim's brother Tom, and the friendship of his sister Margaret. The associations with the Bagans were to continue through Red's life.

The next two years passed with little out of the ordinary taking place. Seventh grade came and went, the war in Europe drug on, and with grade 8 came the anxiety of the dreaded "Oregon State Eighth Grade Examination". It was a state wide assessment with absolute cutting scores that treated all examinees alike, whether they were the hoy palloy of Portland or from the educational backwaters of Eastern Oregon. Few actually failed the exam, but as with many symbolic rights of passage, the potential of doing so seemed immense. Exams were held in April, and the results were announced by June. Red Loughary passed, and was proclaimed admissible to high school.

High school matriculation in 1918, as it was referred to in those days, was not a given. True, there was a matter of social expectation which exerted powerful influence on completing a high school education. A high school diploma was becoming a basic requirement for full class adult citizenship. However, there was nothing socially catastrophic about terminating school and taking full time employment. In was assumed that some students would terminate school after eighth grade graduation and that a few would drop out of school before. The employment available to people following this path essentially was physical labor of one sort or another. Some work could lead via apprenticeships to journeyman status in one of the trades. The path that one actually followed upon eighth grade graduation was influenced by several factors, including prior performance as a student, gender, parental social status, personal and parental aspirations, and economic circumstances.

As Spring came to a close, which it does rapidly in Eastern Oregon, and the hot and dusty months of summer showed signs of taking charge, Red realized that if a decision about his education was to be made, he would have to make it. He had very good reason for continuing in school. He had seen too many men moving from day to day through life with little purpose other than to garner a day's board and bed, and he did not like the look of what he saw.

The issue naturally came up in what loosely passed as a conversation with Uncle Fred, if not directly with Aunt Viola. She, while influential in family decisions, often was not included in discussions. For the record, such discussions rarely took place, the decisions most often being reached privately and then rendered in public by Fred, leaving whatever concerns others might have to be treated more or less as matters of appeals. Fred was both maker of decisions and the court of appeals.

Having gone to work himself after achieving basic literacy many years before in a much less civilized frontier world, Fred was not particularly sympathetic regarding his nephew Ernest attending high school. It was not that he objected, just that continuing to support the son of his brother William after eighth grade graduation seemed to be a responsibility perhaps beyond the call of family. Signs that Eastern Oregon might not be the economic mecca predicted by many at the turn of the century added to his reluctance to assume the financial burden. From what he could tell, Pendleton would be the population and commercial center of the region if there was to be one, in spite of the optimism regarding Stanfield's future of people such as John Bagan. Fred's opinion was not to be ignored. After all, he spent nearly 30 years in Eastern Oregon before the turn of the century, 15 as an adult, and that counted for something. Besides, what could Ernest do with 4 more years of school that he couldn't do now? Maybe nothing? Maybe a lot. Who knew?

Uncle Fred's ambiguous position actually served to motivate Red to analyze his situation and plan a course of action. He was as clear as anyone that age can be (clearer than most, given his circumstances) that a future with out at least a high school education or a great deal of luck was uncertain at best and bleak at worst. In his short life he had observed and associated with poorly educated people, and was forming the strong impression that they were doomed to the short end of the stick. He wanted very much to avoid that fate.

Yet, he knew that attending school on a regular basis would be nearly a full time job in itself. As summer approached, it became clear that sometime prior to September, he would need to find other lodgings. There was sufficient work at Uncle Fred's to earn his keep during the summer months, but after that times would change. Red could not put his finger on the precise time when he decided, but by July he knew that he better be making plans for the fall. Somehow, he knew that Fred knew that he knew. Shortly thereafter, Aunt Viola mentioned casually that he might want to begin collecting a few things for light house keeping. It was not long before there was a pasteboard box beside his bed which she began to fill. First came a blanket she had rescued from someplace, then some eating utensils and a cup, a bar of soap, and extra changes of underclothes. The main effect was to remind them both of the forthcoming change. This added somewhat to Red's confusion because while it was another sign of the uncertainty that had become so much a part of his life, Aunt Viola was more attentive to him than she had been before. He liked this feeling and felt a closeness to Aunt Viola during those two summer months that he had not experienced since his mother died.

It was at the Stanfield Fourth of July picnic that Red shared his concern about Fall with Jim Bagan. The conversation began with Red wondering out loud where he might find work, lodging and also attend high school. After discussing various ramifications of the general issue, about which Jim had never considered even in the most philosophical sense, Jim recalled that his father had mentioned that Claude McCall was looking for a clean-up man at McCall's Pastime. Sounded like a night job, the boys agreed. Mcall’s was advertised as featuring Fountain Snacks, Lunches, Iced Cold Drinks, and Confections, but to John Bagan and his crowd its primary function was a local watering hole. Red said that he would pursue the possible opportunity even though he wasn't sure how he might accomplish it.

Margaret and Red Honeymooning: Twenty three Skidoo!

That evening, he mentioned the possible job at Mcall’s to Uncle Fred, who surprised him by suggesting that he might be able to help. As it happened, Fred had been meeting for some time with several men to consider the establishment of a local Masonic Lodge at Stanfield. Among those attending the meetings was Claude McCall, with whom Fred had been developing a friendship. Fred thought to himself that the situation was something of a fortuity, which he eventually preferred to frame as an altruistic effort on his part. By week's end, Fred had made his inquiry, and said to Ernest that yes, there was a position in the offering, and that it would be to his, Ernest's, advantage to contact Mr. McCall as soon as possible.

Stanfield being what it was, and Red being high on the assertiveness scale, he and Claude McCall were already on speaking terms. Red called on Mr. McCall that afternoon. The requirements of the cleaning job were discussed, as were Red's needs. Claude offered the job to Red at the end of the discussion. Payment would consist of a reasonable weekly wage, use of an upstairs room as an accommodation, and something less certain but hopeful regarding one meal a day. The job involved a daily sweeping, washing down of counters, and general clean up of the establishment and a complete mopping down every Sunday morning. Whether the daily work was done at night after closing or in the morning prior to opening was of no concern to Claud. All he insisted upon was a clean establishment by 10:00 a.m. six days a week and by noon on Sunday. It seemed like more than a good next step to Red, and he accepted the offer. The job would begin the following Monday.

That evening at supper, Red described with some pleasure the result of his negotiations with Claude McCall. He reckoned, he said, that he would be moving his things out this Sunday. Uncle Fred said nothing, thus giving Red the impression that the deal was done, and to his satisfaction. McCall is a good man, was about the only thing Fred had to say. Aunt Viola smiled when Red reported his news, but said nothing. After dinner, Red thought he would get together with Jim Bagan and some other fellows at the ball field. Just prior to going out the door, Aunt Viola called him to the kitchen. She asked him to sit a minute, and then told him how pleased she was that he had been able to make the arrangement for the job at McCall's. Then, anticipating that he would be eager to report the developments of the day to his friends, she asked him if he would mind not discussing the new living arrangements at the "pool hall", as she referred to McCall’s place. "Don't put yourself out on a limb just yet," she asked. "Nothing at all wrong with that, but who knows what other options might turn up," she noted. Red, very pleased about his newly acquired symbol of adulthood, asked her why he should not tell his friends. Just hold off for a couple days, she requested, now in a clearly serious tone, letting Red know that her request was more than a suggestion.

As he walked the dusty road two miles to town, he guessed that he could do as she requested, and so limited his report to the new position at McCall’s, which, as he had anticipated, made him the envy of all who gathered that evening.

Red spent Thursday helping Uncle Fred prepare a dozen stallions for transport to Hermiston. One of Uncle Fred's several business ventures involved contracts with the U.S. Army for mounts and other horses. Several ranchers ran thousands of head of horses over the prairie. When the Army needed to replenish its supply, requests for bids were circulated. Fred had been moderately successful in obtaining contracts since he had taken a homestead in 1908.

The horses were rounded up and assembled in a meadow between Echo and Stanfield in temporary corrals. The challenge was then to inventory, classify and sometimes vaccinate the stock in preparation for transportation to the next assembly point, which was often Hermiston. The work was hard and a man's weight was a factor in how successful he was able to hand the stock. Red was nearing his adult height of 5 feet 10 inches, but was still what could be described accurately, if not kindly, as scrawny. In spite of his lack of weight, he had learned how to use his weight in handling horses, and enjoyed meeting the challenge as well as the opportunity to spend the time with Uncle Fred. Occasionally, it seemed to Red, Uncle Fred actually appreciated his help.

After supper at the end of that weary Thursday in July, Aunt Viola asked Red to bring up some flour and other supplies from the storage shed near the barn. He was surprised as he went through the back screen door and down the path to find her waiting in the shade of the shed. She turned over two milk pails, sat on one and ask him to sit down on the other. This seemed strange to Red, but nevertheless, he sat. Aunt Viola began by saying that she had something she wanted to say, and that when she was finished he would have his turn. Then she told him how pleased she was that he had been able to get the job at McCall’s. Red began to respond, but she shushed him, saying to wait until she was through. She believed that the job was a good idea, as long as it didn't interfere with his studies. He had proven himself a capable student, she told him for the first time he could recall, and that it was important to do well in high school. With that in mind, she went on to say, it seemed to both her and his Uncle Fred, with whom she assured him she had discussed this concern earlier in the morning, living by himself in a room over the "pool hall" was not an arrangement in keeping with the life of a scholar.

So, she said after taking a deep breath, she and Fred had decided that it would be best if he stayed on with them, sharing a bedroom with his cousins, and just continuing being a regular family member. She looked with affection and respect at him sitting next to her on his pail, and smiled broadly. Then she reached over and put her hand on his knee and said that it was for the best and what they both really wanted, and she was so proud that he would be working and able to save money for his school expenses, and his parents would have been too.

Red was not expecting this outpouring of fond acceptance from his aunt, and even though he had never doubted her, or for that matter Uncle Fred's concern for him, he was moved by the encounter. He said that was sure nice, and then began mumbling something to the effect of would Mr. McCall object to his not staying in the room and would that sway the job offer? She reassured him that it would not, which he found easy to accept because now that he had a choice, living with Aunt Viola and Uncle Fred and their family seemed better in lots of ways than the room at McCall’s.

And that is how Red Loughary came to start high school in September 1918 when he turned 16, glad to be living with Uncle Fred and Aunt Viola, pleased with the income and independence provided by the job at Claude McCall’s Pool Hall and noticeably more grown up than he had been at the start of the day.

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