Determining the builder of a 1910 house is not an easy task and honestly, I have struck out often in my attempts. Building permits were not yet a thing at that time. But in the case of the Sholes house in Cornelius, a bit of luck followed by a bit of research allowed me to…
Nothing beats my mom’s potato salad. I can make her recipe, but she must have held onto a secret or two, because mine never quite tastes the same. I wonder if the Reser kids felt the same way about their mother’s. Many of you already know the connection between Cornelius and the Resers, but for…
The Story of Gustav Hickethier a German Immigrant, Socialist, Atheist, and Monument Maker in Washington County Long-time members know I love researching the people who lived in our area before us. This is the real history, not presidents and generals, but ordinary (and sometimes extraordinary) people who worked, loved, struggled, and left their mark on…
Long-time members know I love researching the people who lived in Cornelius before us. This is the real history, not presidents and generals, but ordinary families who worked, loved, suffered, and persevered. I picked this grave in our Methodist Cemetery because Peter Brooks served in the Civil War, yet he’s buried alone here, no other…
In Cornelius Methodist Cemetery lies a weathered metal grave marker, rusted and broken, half-buried in the grass. The inscription reads: MABLE M. EVERITTDied AUGUST 2, 1965Aged 86 Yrs. She rests there alone – no family plot, no other Everitts nearby, no permanent headstone to replace the temporary marker from 59 years ago. But Mabel’s story…
Although Cornelius has had pickle, vinegar and cider plants in it’s history, this pickle story is not a Cornelius story. It is however an Oregon story and one that interested me because I used to love this brand of pickles growing up. Perhaps you too will find the story interesting. The Pickle Queen of Portland:…
I started out with a postcard from around 1910 showing Washington County School Superintendent M.C. Case at his desk in Hillsboro, Oregon. Papers stacked high, a typewriter on the desk. His business card has office hours listed as “Wednesdays and Saturdays.” Just another piece of ephemera from Oregon’s past. But when I started researching Melvin…
Chapter 1 If you’ve a mind to, come along with me on my return trip home to Cornelius from Portland, in this wet autumn of 1869, when steamboats slowly ply the serpentine channel of the Tualatin River and a man’s got time enough to think. October’s been a soggy affair thus far, I’ll tell you…