Lora Lemon Oral History Interview, ca. 1956

LILLIAN VAN LOAN: Lora Hansell Lemon is going to speak to us today about her early experiences in Corvallis and at Oregon State College. Mrs. E.B. Lemon.

LORA LEMON: I wandered today to the hill, Lillian, and gazed on the scene below and as in the song, "The entire scene has changed." How much it is hard for me to realize. I'm one of the few privileged to live in Corvallis for over half a century. So many changes, so much growth in that time, it is almost impossible to remember any specific scene or time, since they all blend into the present.

I came to Corvallis in a covered wagon in September of 1894. Not across the plains, but as we said in those days, "across the mountains." In today's vocabulary we would say over McKenzie Pass. I was born in the Dalles, Oregon and soon thereafter my parents moved to a ranch near Heppner. My most vivid recollection of that period was mother, taking me and my brother (two years younger), down to the cellar when the dust storm was coming. I can assure you that the basements that we have now are a great improvement over those old side hill dugouts. The summer I was five, my father put our household goods in the covered wagon and mother stocked the grub box. Father drove the wagon. Mother took my brother and me in the Hack. We drove over to Athena to help my uncle harvest the wheat. I was interested to note the other day when out of curiosity, I looked up this word, "Hack", in a 1949 dictionary, to find that it is defined as a carriage kept for hire. Now I can assure you that in Oregon in 1890, a "Hack" was not a carriage. That was much more in the class of today's Cadillacs or Packard. The Hack was a dependable, old, horse drawn, one seater. Brother and I either rode in the seat with mother or on a trunk on the bed of the vehicle and there wasn't even a fringe on top. We stayed at my uncle's until after harvest. The main reason I got to "OAC" as we called it in those days, "Et-Ah-Oh," was because my little cousin, and the folks could never figure out how she did it, pulled me out of the box spring that I had fallen into head first while lying on my tummy to drink out of it as I had seen the men do.

The trip over the Cascades was long and hard. There was no drive-ins, poor roads, especially over the lava beds. Stops in the lovely mountain meadows to let the horses feet heal and to soak the vehicle wheels in the streams so that the metal tires would stay on them. I recall mother worrying whenever the wagons would get out of sight. Wagons, because my grandparents and two aunts joined the caravan with a second covered wagon. I recall how they razzed my Grandad when on arriving on the little town of Eugene, he drove his team almost into a lady's front door because the horses were so scared at the first sight of a train. My Grandparents stayed in the Mohawk Valley, not far by today's measurements, from Eugene. Our family had come on down to Corvallis because Father had worked on a farm here as a boy and his sister and her family were living in what we then called Wilkin's Addition. The house, much enlarged and modernized, is still standing on 15th street between Tyler and Harrison.

To me Corvallis was beautiful. A little town of 1500, flowers, trees everywhere, and many of what we now have as lawns I recall as fields covered with beautiful wildflowers. While the hiss, which are now rapidly becoming our suburbs, were covered with wild strawberry patches. We picked the strawberries by the gallons for mother to can because the plain ones just didn't have that good flavor. I did not miss telephones, electric light* running water, bathrooms, sewers, or even sidewalks, of which there were very few west of 9th street and then only board or plank ones at that. The first bit of concrete that I recall was a narrow walk along the east side of the courthouse. Here on the lawn the whole town celebrated with picnic lunches to celebrate the Fourth of July. We bought in the Jones Addition on 16th and Polk street just across the Cherokee strip from Aunties. Now this strip was a parcel of land along what is known as Tyler street, from 13th west several blocks. It was owned by an Indian lady whose three children attended OAC. One became an architect, one a musician, the other an artist. A large ditch, which we called the "Rose Bush," ran the length of this strip and afforded us children a wonderful playground. 12th street and Kings road were the only streets I recall open from Polk to Monroe. There would be maybe one or two houses on the block, a wood shed, a garden plot, and often the barn and some stock.

The campus had a wooden fence running down Monroe street with a large farm on the north side of the street owned by the father of B.F. Irvine, who later became one of the college board of regents, and whose bust is in the Memorial Union Lounge. I earned college money by picking strawberries in the field along the west side of 12th street. Those of us who lived over on the Additions went on long trails from this farm to get over to the college. The campus was drained by a large ditch. It ran across what we speak of now as the lower campus across Monroe street, along 12th street over to 11th street and finally emptied into Dixon Creek. Our favorite stunt was to take the Rooks over to the lower campus for drill and make them march over the ditch. The lucky ones jumped over it, the others jumped in. I recall one winter night, when I was a sophomore, my boyfriend and I were walking down 11th street and as we were on the side walk over the ditch, I looked back over my shoulder and up to see certain stars that were shining in the clear sky overhead. I was astounded when I looked back to see that Clyde had vanished from my sight! Even more astounding was to hear his voice coming from under the sidewalk. In his stargazing he had gotten too close to the walk's edge and fallen down. Fortunately, there was also a fence along there and he landed on it instead of in the water.

In those days, a student, if you were 15 years old, you were admitted as a full fledged freshman, providing he had graduated from high school. High school meant one year in addition to the eight years of grammar school. The only school building in Corvallis was the south half of what is now called Central Park between Monroe and Madison street. The building was much the same type as Benton Hall or the courthouse. It was made of wood, had eight or nine rooms and a basement. This basement as well as the front and back steps and the outdoor playground was divided into two sections by a high partition or a fence. The girls stayed on one side of the fence and the boys stayed on the other. High school classes were in the fore room only. My report card shows that I had classes in algebra, grammar, general history, and half year courses in literature and physical geography.

One of the things that has stayed with me and in many cases meant more as the years have taught me a deeper meaning, were the "Memory Gems" that we had to select and memorize from our reading. One teacher used to rotate each morning, calling on us to recite our selections. I recall one morning before classes were taken up, one of the older boys in the room got into mischief and was told to stand up in front of the room and turn his back to us. It so happened that he was on that morning's list to recite his "Gem." I can still see him, as he turned those big soulful eyes on the teacher and said "To err is human, to forgive, divine." With never a change of expression, the teacher said "You may take your seat now." Of course, none of us dared laugh until after recess. The valley was a hop growing section in those days and many of us youngsters earned money by picking hops. Just before I registered at OAC, I went with my auntie and my cousin, who was in the same grade as I, in a wagon, to a yard that was near Independence. Because college began that fall, a few days before the picking was finished, her and I came back to Corvallis on the train. What excitement, our first train ride!

A few years ago I had a most pleasant experience. The wife of a faculty member told me that we were remodeling the house over on 16th and Polk where I had lived until my marriage; until 1911. In one of the walls they found my English notebook, with three terms of essays, as we called them then", written during my first year at OAC, which was from September of 1904 to June of 1905. It is in surprisingly good condition and such fun to reread. Here was the history of my first week at OAC. When I hear the students and the faculty speak of the hustle and bustle and the activity of freshman week, it was almost impossible to believe that it was then only registration day. Here are a few sentences from the book: "At one o'clock, September 19th, I found myself in the office of President Gatch. After a weary wait, I marched up to his desk frightened, memory fails me, I can't remember what he said. [Narrator's comment: This was very likely a regular procedure for the president to interview each freshman or what we called the "irregular students." The 8th grade students were admitted as sub-freshman in those days. It took them four or five years to finish.] I was then pushed up to Professor Horner's office for what I do not know! I began to wish that I was home when I heard someone say "Go to Dr. Crawford's office." Here I found myself in a room full of excited students. I sat down on the chair and heard someone say that I was to write my full name. Then back to Professor Horner's room, another wait. I received a card and was told to have the teacher sign it. By this time I found others that were going the same place I was, so the rest was comparatively easy until I encountered a piece of paper, and the words on that paper were just like Latin to me. The paper was called a schedule, and I was told to study it out. I'm sorry to say I never did. After the second day though, I began to get acquainted and I began to feel more at ease.

Then because of an illness at home I missed the second week. Then when I returned I found that the hours had all been changed and I found that it took me a while to get everything arranged again. I also found out that Professor Horner was called the Registrar and Professor Crawford the Business Manager; Professor Homer taught courses in Latin and in history. His office was a corner of the classroom and was marked off-by a waist high partition and referred to by us students as the "Bullpen." Professor Crawford taught classes in bookkeeping, I guess the word "accounting" hadn't been coined yet, and in commercial law. He had a classroom separate from his office. There were no IB machines and no adding machines and all of our work was done by hand. All of these rooms were in the Ad Building, (which is now known as Benton Hall)."

The cornerstone of this building was laid in 1887 and it was paid for by the citizens of Benton County and given to the state. In 1890, Congress provided $1,000 to be paid to each land grant college. This amount was to be increased $1,000 each year until $25,000 was reached. This money was for instruction only, I can't resist quoting it "Under no pretense to be used for building or repairs." Later, of course, special appropriations were made.

At the time I registered, the Ad Building had fourteen classrooms, if some of them could be called that. The Library was in the basement and the auditorium, or the Chapel as we referred to it; where the music room is now, on the second floor. Our librarian was referred to by us students as "Two Weeks Nichols." His name being Nichols, and he got his nickname because of his habit of calling out "two weeks for you!" as punishment for some misdemeanor, which meant that we were deprived of library privileges for that length of time. I registered in the literary commerce course. We had courses then, not departments or schools. For us there was only one school and that was "Zip, boom beef. Zip, boom, bee! 0-A, 0-A, 0-A-C!" As for courses we had literary commerce, household science, pharmacy, agriculture, mechanical, electrical, or mining engineering. My record shows that I had English each of the twelve terms; physical culture, ten terms; bookkeeping, penmanship, and German, six terms each; mathematics, five''terms; history, four; arithmetic, stenography and typing, three terms each; elocution, political science, commercial law. two terms each; zoology, floraculture, botany, aesthetics, and mental science, one term each. Now mental science was really psychology, but that word was so new that it wasn't 'til after I went to class that I found out that it also meant mental science and was not a man's name, "Cy Cology."

I graduated with the class of 1908, there were about 83 members, the largest up to that time. A period of growth began and has continued with few interruptions. Changes, yes, too many to list. From a population of 4,552 in 1910 to around 20,000 now, it would be hard to name individuals that stand out in my years of my association with 0AC, first as a student, then as an office girl, a term of substitute teaching, the mother of two " students and the wife of a faculty member. There have been and are so many who by deeds more than words have taught me the real, never changing values of life: honesty, industry and dependability. Our last year was Dr. Kerr's first. So much of the growth of our campus came after I had graduated. At that time we had the Ad Building, now called Benton; two stories of Apperson Hall, then called engineering; Agricultural Hall, now called Education; and the armory, which is now the Speech Building. Also, a dormitory for the boys, Cauthorn Hall, now Kidder; Alpha, for the girls, now moved from the campus and remodeled for apartments. Several small buildings also have been removed or given over to special work.

Convocation was then called Chapel. We had compulsory attendance, a few minutes before noon each day. There was a platform along the west end of the room where the faculty sat. One row of seats on the north side of the room where the girls sat. One row down the center, and one on the south side, for the boys. Program was a song or two, a scripture lesson, announcements and perhaps a short speech. Until 1908, each senior was required at some time during the year to give a senior oration during chapel hour. There was no whistle announcing the time of day. A janitor walked from building to building and rang a bell, which indicated the class had ended. President Gatch was a kindly, if stern old gentleman, with a great sense of humor. He wore a black skull cap and walked with a limp. I recall one morning during Chapel when he announced "We will now sing number so and so. 'Whichever way the wind doth blow my heart is glad to have it so'." Then he added without hesitation, "Whoever wrote that song never had inflammatory rheumatism."

Benton County, Corvallis and Oregon State have long had an enviable reputation. I can best illustrate this by two items I recently came across. One is from an address made by a district attorney in the early 1900's. The population was then 1,817 people. A quote from his speech, "The high standards and character of the citizens of Benton County, home of our great educational institution." The college then as now is a very important part of the community. In fact, we had a saying, "When the students left for the summer, the town rolled up its sidewalks until school opened again in the fall." The other quotation I should give you is from the student Barometer of 1904, "A building is needed in our college. This building is not needed for physical development, but a place for that attribute which distinguishes us from animals. Our moral and social nature may be developed. In the hum-drum of daily recitations we sometimes forget we are here primarily not to get lessons, but to prepare for a life. The preparation is largely obtained unconsciously, through the influence of our surroundings. Obviously then, if our surroundings are uplifting and beautiful, our development will be of the better sort. We need a center for student organizations, a place for student receptions, a headquarters for student's moral and religious life, a retreat for the individual students. The February copy of the Barometer, 1905, states that the students pledged $5,000, "Rarely if ever excelled by a body of students west of the Mississippi, and perhaps never to be repeated in the history of OAC. The only building in the Northwest and the only one west of Kansas to which students have subscribed." "This building was Shepard Hall, the forerunner of our Memorial Union, where the same type of development and service is still carried on though on a much larger scale.

Yes, Lillian, the scene has changed, the old landmarks have been removed, the old boundaries have widened, and will continue to do so. Many students come and go, and future enrollment prospects are almost frightening. Some of the old traditions have been forgotten and new ones have taken their place. But the spirit and purpose as expressed in the Creed, written years ago, by E.T. Reed: "I believe in Oregon State, builder of men and women." Will be with us for as long as the campus exists.

LVL: Thank you, Lora Lemon.