Columbia Basin history

The Grant County Historical Society has compiled several volumes of Grant County history. The books are available for purchase at the Historical Society Museum gift shop in Ephrata.

I bought the series in 2009 and secured permission to relay some of the history through this column.

Memories of Grant County, compiled from taped interviews by the Grant County Historical Society.

Today we begin the story of Ephrata, by Ed Harvill, recorded on Oct. 11, 1977:

I am real happy to see all my relatives here; there are many that I don't recognize but I'll introduce the ones that I do know; my oldest sister Dorothy Kriete; my next oldest sister, Jeanette Schempp; then my brother Bill; and my youngest brother, Jack. I also want to introduce my oldest brother's (Carl) daughter, Enid; and my youngest son's wife and two grandchildren; and also my better half, Louise.

This being October 11, I would like to dedicate these remarks to my mother, whose birthday is today. If she had lived, she would have been 91 years old today. She gave so much to us and needed so little.

Both my Dad and Mother were born in Mt. Vernon, Illinois, or in small towns near Mt. Vernon. Dad was one of a family of seven and my mother was one of a family of six. When my wife and I were back there a few years ago we decided to see if we could find anything about our ancestors, so we started at the Court House, an old courthouse, but we went to the Clerk's office and asked to see some of the records. And would you believe it, they directed us into an office and said, "there the books are in there. Go through and find what you want."

Here were found these books, dating back to about 1850 and dated in about ten year increments, 1850, 1860, 1870 and right on up. And we looked in the one of the 1880s and found the entry of my father's birth. Now it was noted as Baby Boy Harvill, son of George and Ellen Harvill, born September 3, 1884. It was rather eerie to see that old record and find that in there.

Also, we were able to see the record of my mother's birth. Strangely enough, I can call my father's parents by their first names, but as far as I know, I have never heard my mother's parents' first names. They were known as Grandfather and Grandma. That is all I ever knew. So that's the best I could do on that.

Now, both of them spent their early life around Mt. Vernon. Dad, being a farmer's son worked around the farm and as he became a little older, they had a railroad car shop there, he spent some time working in there.

My mother, as she got older, went to Chicago and worked in a garment factory. She got the whole sum of $3 a week for working there six days, and out of that, of course, she had to pay her board and room. She went through the seventh or eighth grade.

We have an old photograph showing the kids in the country school and if you think some of our 1920 and 1922 photos look rough, you should see some of those-tattered clothes and worn-out boots and so on.

My Dad was only able to finish the third grade. Now they were married in December 1908. We also, while we were in Illinois, got with my uncle and he took us to an old cemetery that was on a knoll out about eight or 10 miles from Mt. Vernon, and in one area of the cemetery I imagine 50 percent of the graves were Harvills. Some of the older ones were dated as having the person die in 1850. I am sure that my parents were native of that particular area right around there.

They were married in December 1908 and the following January came to Rock Island in the Wenatchee area. One of the reasons they came was that Dad had an aunt and uncle who had lived there for several years and so that was their stopping off point when they first came here.

Now just imagine coming to Wenatchee or even Ephrata in 1908 getting off the bus and going to a hotel and all that, you can't quite imagine that in Wenatchee. My mother tells about going down the road in East Wenatchee. They used to go in a wagon and those big boulders you see there, you didn't go through them, but went around them. It is just hard for me to visualize what it was in those days. I'm thankful that I was born when I was.

Email from Cheryl

Facts from the past gleaned from the Moses Lake Herald, Columbia Basin Herald and The Neppel Record by Cheryl (Driggs) Elkins:

From the Columbia Basin Herald on Aug. 12, 1949:

Office building to be put up at third and Germania

Sale of two business lots and plans for construction of a new office building on the corner of Third and Germania streets were announced this week by Phil Herman of Warden.

The two lots, measuring 50 feet on Third Street and by 60 feet on Germania, were purchased by Herman from George Schuster. Schuster acquired the land more than a year ago from the city. Sale of another lot in the group to the L&S Construction Company was announced last week.

Brooks & Martell, Spokane architects, are completing plans for a small office building on the corner, Lloyd Cunningham, local attorney, said.

Mac's Used Car Lot, now located on the corner, will move closer to the old city hall, K.H. McDonald, its proprietor, said.

Wilson Creek History

The Rev. David H. Crawford compiled and published a history of families in and surrounding Wilson creek titled, "Family Memories of Wilson Creek Area." The book was printed in 1978, which was the 75th anniversary of the town.

David's son, John Crawford, has given permission for those memories to be a part of this column.

Today we begin the story of Howard Robert Hirschel by Howard Hirschel:

July 1, 1914 was the day that my mother, Lillie Rose (Roschmann) brought me into the world at the Vorba farm north of Wilson Creek. In those days the doctor was called to the home to provide his service at the time of birth. There was always a neighbor woman that was available to help the mother at that difficult time.

I was a sickly baby, unable to retain my food. Milk of any kind disagreed with me. In the search for a substitute, a new product called Borden's Malted Milk was tried. This was a product that had been dehydrated. In desperation, mother even tried a little bit of whiskey to settle my stomach without success.

Aunt Sophia Helmke came up with the solution of my problem. She suggested soda crackers soaked in warm water, with sugar and a bit of peppermint might help. I may not have lived if it had not been for her advice. Even today I like soda crackers, but milk I can do without, although I enjoy milk products such as ice cream and cheese.

My uncle Elmer Hirschel has told me of the nights that I kept him and others awake when he tried to sleep at our home, during that first harvest time of my life. He knew that there was a reason for all the squalling, yet he certainly would have appreciated an unbroken night sleep.

My earliest memories probably started when I was about four years old. I remember going a mile to the back field, in order to bring the cows home for the evening milking. Mother had my 2-year-old sister, Eleanor, to care for and dad would be at work in the fields.

There were times when it seemed that the cows deliberately hid from me, resulting in the sun setting before I reached home. I remember the shadows of the Russian thistles that assumed frightening shapes.

It was during World War I that mother sent me to the home of her neighbor and friend, Florence Downing, to borrow some sugar. It was in the spring of the year. The roads were muddy, with an occasional patch of snow. I don't recall that I was told how much sugar I was to ask for, or perhaps I lost or forgot my instructions.

Mrs. Downing put some of her sugar into the clean flour sack that mother had provided. She asked how much sugar my mother wanted. The sack didn't seem to be heavy to me, but as she added more of the precious sugar, she realized that I didn't really know.

She was a generous person and deprived herself and family of the precious sweetener for a while until it could be replaced. I started bravely for home that was about three quarters of a mile away. The sugar became heavier and heavier. In desperation I looked for a place to set my burden down while I rested. In my opinion a nice clean spot of snow was the proper place; however, when I arrived at home I found that it had been otherwise. Mother may have scolded a little, but she didn't spank me, as she probably knew that I wasn't entirely to blame.

I shall never forget my first time at school. Miss Stivers was teaching at the Timm School. She boarded at our home and walked to that institution of learning. There were times when I would go a short distance with her and the Downing sisters on their way to school. However, I would always return home.

One spring day I made up my mind to go all the way to the school. Mother didn't know anything about it. The schoolhouse was only a mile away, after all I had traveled that far many times to get the cows. The spring runoff had washed out a culvert in the road that was on the way to my destination. The washout was at least a couple feet wide, yet I was able to find a way across it. When I reached school the teacher gave me a seat, and provided me with something to keep me quiet and occupied. All went well until mother arrived on the scene. She carried a switch in her hand. We started for home in a hurry. I hesitated when I came to that washout. It looked to be a long way to jump; however a little encouragement from mother with her switch sent me across immediately.