 There's history here and here. There's history there. History is everywhere. You know that I don't consider myself a historian. I'm a journalist, retired journalist, and I have an open mind, I hope, and I'm searching for historical anecdotes and writing brief episodes for Jefferson Public Radio. That's the extent of my history work. My maternal grandmother, I want to tell you a little bit about who I am, my maternal grandmother, Martha of Tavia, Farrar de Lap, crossed the plains to Oregon in 1861 in her parents' covered wagon that reached Ashland via the Applegate Trail. She was less than a year old at the time, so she must have been inside that wagon all the way, I imagine, or her mother was carrying her. My brother-in-law has traced her ancestors to William Farrar, who arrived in Jamestown, Virginia in 1618 on the Neptune, the name of the ship. Farrar founded a plantation upstream called Farrar's Island. Today, the site of the Henrique's Historical Park, a living history museum at Chester, Virginia. My wife and I visited there a couple years ago, and we thought they'd really impressed since Farrar's were coming, and they told us they get them every day. So my presentation today will include some basics about writing as it was, because we hope that from this nice gathering that we will be able to recruit some of you to write some stories for us. We have, if you're interested, you can contact me, and in my PowerPoint I'll give you my email address, and we have an extensive writer's guide that I can share with you that was written before my time. Excellent guide, if you're interested. I've been writing and editing for the series since 2007. The series that we're now working on started in 2005, right at the beginning, or the end of 2004. I became the editor-coordinator of the Southern Oregon HIST for the Historical Society. The series is a joint effort between Historical Society and Jefferson Public Radio, and Historical Society writes stories, I edit them, and I write some when we're short, or ask Alice for some more. And then we put it together into a package and deliver it to the narrator and to the producer at the radio station, and they put it together for broadcast. By the way, Shirley Patton is an narrator, and she intended to be here originally, but she had a medical appointment, an important one in Portland, I believe, today, and she thought it was a little bit too important to just get. So we're very sorry she's not here, because she's the voice you hear on the radio every day, if you listen. I just want to quote one of the original founders of the idea of as it was, and then I'll get on to my program over here. His name was John Baxter, and he was director in 1998 of New Media at Jefferson Public Radio. He said, we never intended the radio series as it was to be a comprehensive history of the state of Jefferson. Rather, we hope to tell stories that would give a sense of the colorful, varied, if sometimes disquieting, history of the region, and thereby give us all a richer sense of what it means to live here. While the series tells stories about the flavor of early pioneer life, or amusing anecdotes of unusual characters, as it was, has never shied from the less pleasant suspects, aspects of our history, could be suspects, history, and has included stories about the racism against Native Americans and the Chinese, and I might add he didn't, the Japanese Americans that were in Tule Lake, their frontier violence, and sometimes life-threatening hardships encountered by the region's early residents. I thought it was a pretty good description of what we try to do every month. We don't hit all those points every month, but we gradually do. Finally, I want to make clear that none of us are paid. We're all volunteers. The whole program is volunteers, and that's why I always try to recruit when we're at a meeting. Because we need some more volunteers. We do 20 to 23 stories a month, depending on the number of days, business days in a month, and sometimes we're going to be 17 on hand at deadline time, and then that means I have to do a lot of extra work and to help get it out. So it all started with Carol, excuse me, Barrett, I wanted to say Barrett. She wrote over 1200 stories herself, and I think she was doing all 20 to 23 of them every month by herself. And then she got the idea that why don't we publish this, and Jefferson Public Radio published his first book ever, according to what the book says here, and this is it. And maybe you've all seen this at some time or another. It's for sale. I'm not selling it, but it's easy to get. The radio has a large stack of them, I imagine, and there's been selling it for quite a while. Well, on with the program. If I can get this stuff out of the way. You can tell I'm used to doing this. Now I've got some many wires sucked up to me. I can't remember which one does what, but this is what I want. This is how it began. The society was founded in 1946 by a group of civic and history-minded people from Jacksonville and around the Rd. Rd. Valley. In 1948, a county of voters approved the history levy, and SOHS took over the old county courthouse in Jacksonville. Eventually it became a museum, and today is owned by the city of Jacksonville, and I believe is the city hall now. There's a long story in between that I just skipped about financial problems, and they lost that levy and tried to pass a levy how many times Alice, three or four times, two or three times, since I've lived here, and the voters turn it down. In the 1980s, the society has grown and taken over management of several historic county-owned buildings, including the Catholic rectory, which is that one, and the Cornelius Beekman House, the Beekman Bank, and the US Hotel. I imagine a lot of you have been there, though, if not all of you. Yeah. In 2012, the county transferred the Beekman properties in the courthouse to the city of Jacksonville. The Jacksonville Heritage Society has managed rectory since 2010. The society still owns its research library and Medford and archived storage facility in White City, and the society owns and operates the Heritage Hanley Farm, established in 1857 and still working. That's, Ashland was established, I believe, in 1860-61, so it wasn't, it's very early. Over the decades, the Historical Society received tens of thousands of donations into its permanent archive, and Peter Britt's cameras are among them, a lot of his pictures, early transportation conveyances, and this studs Fire Engine 1924, and these wonderful artwork by Regina Dorland Robinson, as well as hundreds of thousands of artifacts and documents reserved for posterity. Finally, in 1992, Jefferson Public Radio inaugurated the daily two-and-a-half-minute program as it was, as committed to telling the history of Southern Oregon and Northern California. It refers to the state of Jefferson, which I amended to call the mythical state of Jefferson. Over the next 14 years, more than 1,000 episodes have been produced and broadcast, all done by the work of Barrett, and this is a page from the Jefferson Monthly magazine. In 1998, the radio published a book titled As It Was, and it's a compilation of program scripts along with illustrated photographs from the library, from the research library. A new series began in March of 2005. The other one was stopped just for a short time and they ran repeats. And then they started up again with original work in March of 2005. And since then, we've scoured the region from material and produced 3,200 episodes this month, and a little bit more than 3,200, all narrated by Shirley Patton. The station publishes them in its Jefferson Monthly magazine and at that address online. Each segment runs, it says, 1.59 minutes. Is that accurate? Yeah. Including introductory music, opening and closing statements and 90 seconds of historical content. And those 90 seconds consist of about 200 words, actually a little less, about 195 words. It keeps getting shorter. And maybe, well, here are the objectives. I also read you the statement that one of the originators gave us, but conveyed a message and appreciation and awareness of history is necessary for healthy culture and community. Help listeners feel more at home by understanding the roots of their community. They can more easily become part of it. Stimulate listeners' interest and desire to learn more about regional history and connect various generations to an understanding of our common history. And I might point out that each story is also printed as uploaded to the internet and is available. And with the sound, you can either click on the sound or the text. And the text always includes source material. And in recent years, we've done it in a very standard way of doing footnotes. And so I like to think that if people get here, one of these things online, and it might encourage them to go look for the source material and do some reading. Okay, now I'm getting into the writing part of it. If you were interested in writing, you probably might be wondering, asking yourself, well, where do you get the information? And that was my problem when I first heard about it. And the answer is partially this list of oral histories that are recorded, society research library diaries, manuscripts, old newspaper articles, books, autobiographies, regional historical societies, exhibit texts, and the internet. And I would tell you that when I have to write five stories because we're short, the internet is where I go to get them. The internet is a great source for this program. I mean, I think it's just a life saver, frankly, because some people worried that we're going to run out of topics because people have been writing about Jesse Applegate a long time ago, and we can't just keep writing about Jesse, and we try not to repeat any story. So the internet gives you the opportunity to just look for anything that has to do with Southern Oregon or Northern California, and you can think of any topics and search with Google, and pretty soon you're into a wealth of material. I mean, you'd like to think that most of the time you have something in mind, but there are these moments when you have nothing in mind and Raymond's waiting for the copy to get over there. The scripts are approximately 90 seconds in length. I've reduced the worries up there. It used to be, say, 195 to 205, the original writing guides, but I've reduced it to 180 to 190 because that's basically what it is. With the recordings we're doing now. The timeline is from the beginning. It says indigenous period in the modern times. Actually, we've come back to the geological age times. I wrote one story about Grizzly Peak and Ashland being a volcano, which doesn't look like a volcano today. Many millions of years ago. The focus, the history of Northern California and Southern Oregon, often referred to as the state of Jefferson. Subject matter, anything, I mean that's of interest. It's interesting, compelling to the reader or to the listener. Significant history as well as mysteries, anecdotes, tall tales, legends about the people, places and events that have shaped our region. I threw that last thing because it was mentioned earlier in that book, but also we do not avoid controversial historical material. Although the only two complaints that I've received since 2007, I mean that got to me. One of them was that I had not treated Native Americans properly in a story. Oddly, the story was about a massacre of Indians by miners. It wasn't in reverse, so it really bothered me when I got this and I didn't want to have that other idea conveyed in any way. So I wrote the person and told them exactly what the story said and I sent them a copy of the story thinking maybe they heard it wrong, which can happen and I never heard back. I assume they heard something in there about Indians attacking whites after the massacre and they got in their head that that's what the story was about. So anyway, you have to write the facts. The Indians did attack after the massacre, so both parts are there. The archives, if you want to write a story and you wonder, has it been used before? Has it been written about before? There are several ways that you can determine whether it's been written before. One of them is to look at the current archive, which is asitwas.org. Another way is to go to the archive that was kept up until three years ago, I believe, two or three years ago, when we started the new one. But that old one is still there and it goes all the way back to 2005. And then, let's see, what's that one as it was? I guess, oh, that's the historical society. In recent years, they've started an archive and it's excellent. And they're doing a kind of duplicating what radio station is doing, but in part of their mega-research section. Then we do source material and that's the template we use online to fill out the source material. That'll mean something to you later if you start writing. You send the scripts to me. There's my email address. All of the rest of that will come in the writer's guide. I'm not going to go through it now because it's just, basically, there's a system of sending it in and you find it in the writer's guide. And finally, the Southern Oregon Historical Society presented this prestigious heritage award to the program in 2012. And we were all there for that. And I think the plaque is sitting over there somewhere in Jefferson Public Radio. The award is given annually to a personal organization and has contributed greatly toward meeting the society's mission to make history come alive by collecting, preserving, sharing the stories and artifacts of our common heritage. That's my presentation. I think that when people write for as it was, or think about being a writer for as it was, it sounds very frightening. I mean, these things are broadcast on the radio for heaven's sakes. Thousands of people might hear them and other people might go online and read them and oh my gosh. But if you have any storyteller in you, that's what we do. We are always telling stories. Most of them true. When they're not true, we always say that in the story that this was, you know, allegedly what happened. We have ghost stories. We have all kinds of stories. Initially, the length was difficult. It's tough to tell a story in less than 200 words. But there are some little tricks that can be very helpful. You think twice before using any adjective or adverb. It really has to contribute to the story or there's not room for it. You don't include cutesy little phrases. You find out the one word phrase as opposed to the three word phrase and you start using those. So those are just little things that you begin to learn as you start writing. And the other thing that intimidates people is sources. But you and the genealogical society are sitting on a mountain of sources. Every one of your books in the library that does Southern Oregon, Northern California will have filled with stories. Your whole quilt project is stories. Your pioneer files are stories. You have a wealth of information here that could be used to write as it was stories. The one thing you do want to do as soon as you think you have an idea is go to those sources of old stories and make sure somebody didn't already write it. I've written several that kind of then sent back to me and said we already did that one and sometimes it's last month. That's really embarrassing. But do look at those first and make sure that they haven't been done. But I think we should hear some of the stories. So let's turn it over to... You know, we talk about how long we've been writing. But Raymond and Shirley have done this from the very beginning of this second series. 12 years now. 11 years. 2005. It's 12 years. That's 12 years. Thank you very much, Kernan and Ellis. Again, I'm Raymond Scully. I am not related to Vin Scully, the announcer. I wish I was. My brother has a picture with him. We call him Uncle Vin and that's the story we're sticking with. Thank you. I am not related to a famous roadie for the band A Grateful Dead. His name was Rock Scully, if you're into that sort of thing. But I'm not related to him. I did work for the U.S. Census Bureau in the Decennial Census in 2000. And I was a federal agent. So I guess I'm somewhat related to Agent Dana Scully of the X-Files. That's probably my closest connection to fame or my own genealogical roots. I wanted to say a brief word about working with Shirley Patten. And she does very much apologize for not being here. But she has a very important medical appointment that she really needed to make. Debating where to tell this story. So I'll tell an abbreviated version. From a gentleman by the name of Armando Duran from the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. My other job is I work at Blackstone Audio Books. I'm an engineer and I record narrators, reading books. I also record books myself for another company in the area called B Audio, like the insect. But as a consequence of that job I get to work with many Shakespearean actors from the festival who come down the street and record books with us during the day and then do the plays at night. And one of the actors was Armando Duran. And this was about three years in the making, maybe. And understand that at the time I was working all day at Blackstone editing audio and then I'd stop and I'd go record with Shirley and I'd spend all night editing the monthly episodes. What happens is Kernan and Alice and the writers, well through Kernan, deliver the scripts to us and one night a month, towards the end of the month, before the next month. In other words, in two weeks we will be recording the July episodes. Shirley comes in and we knock out 20 to 23 stories for the next month. The shortest we did is 18. We're during a non-leap year February, but the most has always been 23. So the stories are great, working with Shirley was great, but the grind was kind of getting to me. And Armando was asking me, how's it going with as it was? I hear you all the time and I said, thank you very much, but I got to tell you. Part of me is a little burned out because I'm working because I keep going through that night until they're done. So it could be 17, 18 hour days for me. Finishing at midnight at 1 a.m. is not unusual. So I was coveching, I think it's a nice way to put it. And Armando looked at me and he says, Raymond, let me tell you a story. So at the Shakespeare Festival at the beginning of every year we have outside actors come in. And we all gather at somebody's house for a potluck, kind of as a welcome. Kind of welcome to Ashland, welcome to the whole theater. It's going to be a very long year until November when they do the plays. And there is this one year where they're having a party and everybody's getting along great. The vibe in the room is really good. And there's a newcomer, a man from the East Coast who came to Ashland for the year to do the plays. And they're asking him, what do you think of the area? Oh, I love the plaza, I love the food, I love the people, the climate. It's so pretty here. That's very good. What do you think of, like, do you listen to the radio? Oh, I love Jefferson Public Radio. You have a classic station, you have a news station, you have a rhythm and news. They just think it's all great. But what's with this old timey show and this old lady who reads all these stories? I mean, how hokey is that? Armando said the temperature in the room dropped about 20 degrees. And everybody moved away from him on the bench. And Armando looked me in the eye and he said, Raymond, you get to work with Shirley every month. I didn't realize what an icon, what a historical marker herself, what a jewel we have in the grand dam of the Shakespeare Festival from the 50s to the 70s. Shirley Patton is. And if you've met her at all, a bigger heart has never been found. She is the consummate professional. The closest word she's had to me in 12 years is when I ask her to reread something because she'll make a mistake or trip over something and we'll get something wrong. She says, well, no, I think that's right. What she said and I went, fine, I'll see that later. So she leaves after two hours and I edit. And sure enough, she was right. And I've worked with so many narrators who know how to pout and go to their trailer and just like. Shirley's not even close to that. She's the consummate professional. She's got a wonderful sounding voice, as you'll hear in a second. And she's just a joy to work with. And it's one of the reasons I keep doing this because we've been doing it 12 years, 3,200. And I was going to quiz you on this, Colonel. What are we up to, 78, something like that? Keep going strong. We'll have to bring some back for encore episodes soon. But Shirley is a great joy to work with. It's wonderful. We'll do any take again, two or three times. We're going to split up recording dates for one reason or another, but she's just the best. So it's just an honor for her. I love Shirley. So I just have three little episodes here to play. Shirley records them. I do have an outtake track, but I kind of scan through it. And I think most of them are inside jokes. They aren't really that funny. I think the final product is really the best, aside from that one story. And I guess I could tell it without her being here. So I have to decide if you want to tell that herself. So I have three episodes here, and they range from 10 years ago to five years ago to one year ago. So it's a real good shotgun that I have there. And you'll notice the difference in the first one I have to play here, which is from 10 years ago, because it has a slightly different open and close. And it also has the different writer before, who was Craig Stilwell, who ran it for the first few years of here. So without further ado, let me play it. Welcome to As It Was, Tales from the State of Jefferson. Movie stars often visited the Rogue Valley of Southern Oregon, but on August 4, 1930, one was a reluctant guest. Leo, the MGM lion, was in Medford to attend the opening of the new airport. The crowds didn't bother him, but airplanes did. In 1927, Leo had been the first lion to fly in an airplane. On his way from Los Angeles to the East Coast, his plane crashed in the Arizona desert, and Leo was left alone for three days without food or water. So it was understandable that he growled at the airplanes during the opening ceremonies. Other Medford appearances seemed more to Leo's liking. For example, in front of the Craterion and State theaters, he gave his trademark roar to the background music of a calliope. Probably his favorite stop was the West Side Meat Market for 25 pounds of steak. After that, his entourage appeared at several other places, including the Rio dealership. It was a Rio truck that carried Leo's luxurious cage. After completing his 42-state, three-year nationwide tour, the famous film studio icon was going to Europe for another three-year trip, but he was crossing the country by train this time instead of flying. Today's episode of As It Was was written by Alice Mamali. The program producer is Raymond Scully. I'm Shirley Patton. As It Was is a co-production of JPR in the Southern Oregon Historical Society where stories are learned more about the series, visit asitwas.org. We didn't even give the head writer credit back then. Craig didn't even make it on there, so Kernan got his just due when the time he came along. By the way, the music that we use behind there is a Gaelic tune that Eric Teal, the program director at JPR, picked out. It's called Chivaic Chivore, and it means roughly the Little Fairy Hill and the Big Fairy Hill. And the recording we use is by guitarist Peter Blanchett and the virtual consort. It's out of print, so it's a rare piece of music in itself. And one thing to note, the original, as it was with Hank Henry, would vary from anywhere from a minute 10 to two minutes and 45 seconds, so they didn't have a set time rate. That can't exist in today's radio. With Jefferson Public Radio working with National Public Radio, there are so many slots that they have, particularly at the end of Jeff Riley's, the Jefferson Exchange. We have to drop that in there. That's why our episodes are one minute 59 seconds, not even two minutes, because we need that one second to slip them in there. So there's a set music bed, and we have to squeeze everything in there. And if there's a lot of information, I do my best to squeeze it all in there. Sometimes you may hear an episode, or you'll just hear that boom first note, and then we're off to the episode. But that's okay, because some stories, it's a very big challenge. I'm amazed that the writers do that and be able to squeeze it in so much. So this next episode was done about five years ago. Welcome to, as it was, tales from the mythical state of Jefferson. Perhaps you've seen it, a sharp, bright, black and white image of Crater Lake, the heavily clouded sky reflected in the water below. It is one of three photographs taken by pioneer photographer Peter Britt on August 13, 1874. Crater Lake historians Larry and Lloyd Smith described the scene. The Britt party has been camping at the rim for days. Britt is ready to give up and leave without a photograph. When suddenly the clouds part, the sun shines through and the first photograph ever of Crater Lake is taken. Britt made an unsuccessful earlier attempt to reach the lake in 1868. A year later, he provided James Sutton with photographic equipment when his exploring party floated a canvas boat on the lake. Sutton wrote later, I was prepared to take photographs of the lake, but owing to the smoke in the atmosphere, I did not succeed. Until Sutton named Crater Lake, it had been known variously as Hole in the Ground, Deep Blue Lake, Mysterious Lake, and Majestic Lake. The Indians called it Glowese, or Gawis. Britt continued taking pictures of the lake that helped convince the federal government to make it a national park. Today's episode of As It Was was written by Kernan Turner and produced by Raymond Scully. I'm Shirley Patton. As It Was is a co-production of JPR and the Southern Oregon Historical Society. To share stories or to learn more about the series, visit asitwas.org. Now obviously we've done many stories on Crater Lake, so it's not like you can't ever do a story on Crater Lake, but it's, you don't want to do the same story. We've done about 15 on Camp White, which I didn't know anything about until I moved here, from the fact that the barracks were torn apart and used in buildings in Medford to one of the biggest training bases in the Army in World War II. There's lots of interesting stories about lots of subjects. We just don't want to tell the same story, but the subjects are very broad. So this last one I just picked out, it was about, I think about a year ago. I really enjoy it when I can just kind of turn Shirley loose. I don't know if you've seen her, she's still active in the theater. She was in The Foreigner, which was really lovely. She was outstanding in Arsenic and Old Lace, which we did, she did at the Camelot Theater a couple of years ago. So she's still got her chops in her. And Driving Miss Daisy. And Driving Miss Daisy, I saw that one as well. Yes, thank you very much. So she's still got it in her. So anytime there's a story that has a cold verbatim from somebody's diary, I let Shirley loose. And aside from, when I edit it, and I edit on a software program called Adobe Audition, I need to do an as it was story about how they did radio on the first ones, which was with tape, and how I do it now, which is with computer software. So that's a change in radio production. But aside from clicks and pops, I really don't touch your breaths or anything. I just kind of let the recording go. And her performances are always so enjoyable. So this is one that I found sifting through the thousands of episodes. So I think you'll hear what I'm talking about here. Welcome to, as it was, Kale's from the mythical state of Jefferson. Some women came west seeking a husband during the California Gold Rush. A California newspaper ran an advertisement that read, A husband wanted by a lady who can wash, cook, scour, sew, milk, spin, weave, hoe, can't plow, cut wood, make fires, feed the pigs, raise chickens, rock the cradle, gold rocker. So I'll plank, drive nails, et cetera. These are a few of the solid branches now for the ornamental. Long time ago, she studied red Murray's geography and got through two rules and pipes. Grammar could find six states on the Atlas count, read, and you can see that she can write can, no, could paint roses, butterflies, ships, et cetera. The ad states her terms. Her age is none of your business, it said. She is neither handsome nor a fright, yet no man need not apply nor any who don't have a little more education than she and a great deal more gold. For there must be $20,000 settled on her before she will bind yourself to perform all of the above. The lady obviously was aware men were desperately lonely in the gold fields. Today's episode of As It Was was written by Gale Theorene Jenner, edited by Kernan Turner and produced by Raymond Scully. I'm Shirley Patton. As It Was is a co-production of JPR in the Southern Oregon Historical Society. To share stories or to learn more about the series, visit asitwas.org. You can hear what I'm talking about there. Just throw your hand. By the way, one anecdote, just humorous one to me. I was driving with my wife somewhere and it was right around one o'clock on the classic service when JPR airs. And we pulled up to our destination. It was one of those driveway moments where we keep the radio going. So I said, oh, my episode's coming up. So we listened to it and right as the end of the story came, right as the credits stopped or started, my wife turned the car off. And I went, what are you doing? I'm just getting ready to get paid. She looked at me and I said, just to reiterate, this is all volunteer work, but my name gets sent out over the airwaves. I'm famous in that regard. And a lot of times, even though you don't hear my voice, when cashiers will see my name or I'll sign it or I'll check in at an office somewhere, they go, Raymond Scully, you're on JPR, aren't you? So that's how much power Shirley has just by saying my name. And I love it when she says my name every day. That's how we all get paid when we do this. So it's a lot of labor of love, but it's a worthwhile labor of love, in my opinion. And I think anybody who does this, history is worth talking about in this medium day and age. We have it on, it used to be just on print. So now we have it on audio. You can have it on the computer and we're having it on video as well. So your chance to be a part of that if you can contribute. Everybody has a story and they're interesting and they're worth while to hear. So that's what we have. Yes, ma'am. She gets the scripts. Kearnan gives us a copy a few days beforehand. You're talking about every month when we do this? Yeah. And so another thing that Shirley does is she's our main proofreader. So Kearnan's busy slapping these things together from various, anywhere from nine to 12 writers a month. And she'll look through it and there may be words that are not sure about, or oftentimes because it's in the written form, we don't know how to say someone's name. So we'll try to do our best and guess for that or maybe he'll try to go back to the writer and go, do you have any idea how it's done? So she'll read them out loud. When she comes in with her scripts, and they're all in Word documents, she's got a stack of scripts. I've noticed them. She's got little marks where she has her pauses planned, just like the great actor that she is. She'll know in a very long sentence when to suck for that error, she can finish the rest of the sentence and then when she can go again. And she has all of that marked. She's really wonderful that way. As I say, I work with quite a few narrators and she's top rate. I can't find anybody better. There are long, complex sentences that we have to communicate in a short amount of time. And Shirley's very good about knowing which words to emphasize, where to keep going and where to pause. And so she'll come in and we'll talk about any issues or any notes that we have. She'll go ahead and read it. I'm following along with her and if I'm not sure about something, thanks to the internet, we can look up something right away. How do we say that? Or is that where the city is? So we had a story a while back about whether it was in California or was it in Oregon. So we dialed up Google Maps and so there can be minor discrepancies like that. But she's kind of part the proofer as well when she does that. And we all kind of contribute with that. All right, we may not have Shirley Patton here with us today, but we do have you and a number of you have been given scripts and ask if you would read them. So I'd like to start with the person who has Orson Abel Stearns. I think that's the oldest picture. Good. So you are the new Shirley Patton for today. The voice is constantly in my head. I have known Shirley and admired Shirley and been a fan of Shirley for a long, long time since she was on the stage at OSF. And I have had the joy, pleasure and absolute thrill of directing her in three of the productions. Two of them were mentioned here, driving Miss Daisy and Arsenic and Lace. And my first one that I directed her in was The Grapes of Wrath, all at Camelot Theater. Paul Jones. This is about this guy right here. I won't give you the introduction or anything like that. You just get this. Some soldiers at Fort Klamath in the winter of 1867 relieved their boredom by producing a humble handwritten newspaper they called The Growler. One of its stories made national news. The story said an earthquake struck in force at daybreak on January 8th, 1867, throwing men to the floor and cracking cabin timbers. Dogs howled, Indians yelled and trees swayed violently. No lives were lost, the newspaper said, even though the settler's store was thrown 20 feet. The Growler said a column of dark smoke rising over the distant Klamath Marsh prompted fears that a new volcano was erupting and soldiers were dispatched to investigate. The Oregon Sentinel in Jacksonville reprinted the article which was picked up by newspapers from coast to coast. An official Army investigation revealed the story was fiction, written by a private. The editor of The Growler was Orson Avery Stearns, who would eventually become one of the leading pioneer settlers and citizens of Klamath County. Even as late as 1914, Stearns said he was still receiving inquiries from unknowing scientists about the great quake of 1867. My name is Sue Waldron and I am a historian and I also have been working on Alice Applegate for probably 20 years. So Alice Applegate, one of 12 children of famed trailblazer Lindsay Applegate, remembered her father purchasing the Siskiu toll road in 1860 and moved with his family to a toll house in the mountain south of Ashland, Oregon. Later in her life, Sergeant Road about the long ago time when Grizzlies still roamed the forest. She described how in winter when new snow covered the road, Applegate would hitch a bobsled to a team of oxen and walk back and forth all day, breaking trail for the approaching wagons. During the summer, the trail was busy with mules, freight wagons pulled by six yoke of oxen and marriot wagons pulled by six horses. Because there were so few places for wagons to pass on the narrow mountain road, the horses in the lead wore bells to warn other wagons of their approach. Sergeant also saw peddlers with their straw padded wagons piled high with apples hitting south to the Sierra Nevada mining towns. At dusk from her home on the toll road, Sergeant listened to gray timber wolves howling in the forest. I should say that I chose these episodes to give you a sense of the variety of stories that are written, the variety of time periods and different authors. The first one was by Todd Keppel who is the director of the Klamath County Museum. And this one was by Amy Couture, is that what you say her name? Couture. Okay, these are longtime writers for the society. Let's move to a more modern time. Someone has the picture of John F. Kennedy and the most crazy people from Grants Pass, the caveman. Hi, my name is Cara Davis Jacobson. I'm a publications editor volunteer here at Revelle Genealogical Society. And I should probably say in advance that I have no known connection to this at all. This story. It's by Nancy Jay. Bringhurst. The Oregon Caveman. There was a time during a parade or rodeo in Oregon in Northern California when an unsuspecting child, a young girl, even a famous politician, might be snatched by a caveman thrown into a makeshift cage and released at the end, all in good humor. This activity was the brainstorm of a group of innovative businessmen in 1922 to incorporate the Grants Pass caveman as a way to boost business and put their town and region on the tourist map. For decades they dressed in furs, wielded clubs, and performed a variety of acts and antics at public gatherings. John F. Kennedy, Babe Ruth, and Shirley Temple were among the many celebrities initiated by the cavemen. Obviously they had a good eye for those who would enjoy their creative pranks, though not everyone was a caveman fan. Eventually a combination of the threat of sexual harassment lawsuits, protest by animal rights activists, and the state's requirement to pay corporation fees put an end to the merriment in 2004. Today a larger than life caveman statue erected in 1971 near the North I-5 freeway entrance to Grants Pass reminds us of that less restricted and more playful era. My name is Joy Durrat and this is by Alice Mawali. Hanley Farm Music Festival joins a long history of outdoor concerts. In the good old summer time, outdoor music concerts are a long tradition. In 1889 more than 2,500 people attended the band festival in Jacksonville. All day bands played on the balcony of the U.S. hotel while crowds listened from the street. The Ashland City Band held concerts since the 1890s, the festival in Jacksonville, and the Ashland City Band concerts continue this tradition today. Some small towns went to great lengths to have concerts, to accommodate summer events in Medford. The Greater Medford Club built a band shell and the city strung lights and constructed benches to accommodate listeners at Liberty Park. This summer people can enjoy a new music festival under the trees at the Extoric Hanley Farm. August 5th from noon to 8 p.m., five great electric bands will entertain festival goers. Food, beer, and wine, a market, and a great raffle will round out the Southern Historical Society fundraiser. My name is Ray Schuck. I'm just a guest here today. In 1864, Robert Vincent Peale planted a sapling black walnut tree in the yard of his newly constructed house in east of Jacksonville. Today the Beale Black Walnut and Oregon Heritage Tree and one of the largest of its kind in America stands sentinel to 150 years of Oregon history, some forged by the Beale family. Scottsman, Ninian, Beale arrived in America in the 1860s and produced a lineage that include four Maryland governors. In 1852, brothers Robert and Thomas broke speed records for mule train travel on Oregon Trail. Completing the trek in 78 days, soon the Beale started packing supplies to Southern Oregon minors. The Beales established trade routes between Jacksonville and Crescent City and Robert built one of the first frame buildings in Southern Oregon. A structure now listed in the National Historical Register. Robert's son, Venti, who graduated from the University of Oregon in 1897 gained acclaim as an artist, photographer and teacher. He bequeathed $100,000 to the University of Oregon Music Recital Center. Today the University of Oregon Music Recital Center bears the name Beale Hall. One of the longtime writers for the As It Was series was Shirley Nelson and she wrote from the coast, she lived on the coast and for many years would come over for socials that we would have. It was always amazing. So this is one of her stories. Yes, this one is about the early telephone operators that provide essential services, by the way, on Catherine Sloan Hyde. So here's what Shirley had to say. To call someone 100 years ago involved dialing the switchboard operator who usually was a woman stating the name or telephone number and waiting to be connected. Hearing a click meant someone else was on the party line and had lifted a receiver and was listening in. To search someone, excuse me, to reach someone in a rural area might require calling a ranch or business owner who would relay the call to the distant party. The telephone operator known as Central not only connected calls efficiently but also provided services in an emergency. If firemen, doctors or policemen were needed Central knew where to find them even when they were away from their offices. On the night of September 26th, 1936 when the city of Bandon burned operator Evelyn Mansett was on duty at the west coast, excuse me, west coast telephone office in the old bank building. As fire raged around her, she handled calls including getting information to people outside the city. When the building's roof caught fire and the windows blew out, Mansett stayed on the job. She escaped at the last possible moment and was later awarded the Telephone Company's Veil Award with commendation for her bravery. And as was said, this was written by Shirley Nelson. This story is about a company that has been exceedingly successful in Southern Oregon that you may never have heard of and it's been here a very long time and is still here, the Tucker Snowcat Company. I was surprised at that too. To most motorists, snow means hazardous driving conditions and tire chains. To Emmett Tucker, who grew up trudging through the white stuff snow meant to challenge. Tucker was born in 1892 at Jump Off Joe Creek just north of Grants Pass, Oregon. He is known as the inventor of the Snowcat. A sturdy vehicle on tracks used to climb rugged mountains in far off parts of the world. It took Tucker 35 years to perfect his over-the-snow machine. Friends stood by to cheer his first successful run from Union Creek to Crater Lake. The National Geographic covered a January 1948 trek when the Snowcats carried snow survey crews along the spine of the Cascade Mountains. World markets opened and in 1957 and 58, Tucker Snowcats drew international attention by making the first motorized crossing of Antarctica. The firm Tucker established near Midford, Oregon in 1946 is still operated by the family. It is recognized as the oldest successful manufacturer of snow vehicles in the world. Vehicles made by the Tucker Snowcat plant today are used in many jobs, including search and rescue, avalanche control, oil and gas exploration, mining, of course, snow removal and snow grooming. And this was all inspired by the challenge of the Southern Oregon snow.