By SHEILA CHITWOOD/for The Herald — There’s a little bit of Jessie Brock that lives in all of us who choose to call Oakridge home. And for some, a whole lot.
In the early 1890’s, a young couple left the Willamette valley for a homestead nestled under the south side of Grasshopper Mountain. After reaching Big Prairie (Oakridge), Stuart and Janet Warner Brock traveled two full days with their pack horses heavily laden with supplies to reach their new home. The country was remote and untouched.
A rustic cabin was quickly put together. Its single room served as a living room, dining room, kitchen, and bedroom. All cooking was done over the fireplace. Their one luxury was a Dutch-oven in which their bread was baked. Hunting and fishing were made to order for this hardy, outdoor-type man.
One wonders how his wife must have reacted to the imminent arrival of a child. No one, not even an Indian woman, was within miles. Her husband had the entire responsibility. She must have faced the ordeal of birth with strength and faith in his judgment.
Nature, on this occasion, was kind, and the pretty, dark-haired little girl grew sturdy, strong, and very self-reliant. “Woods wisdom” is a special treasure in which Jessie found great delight. The trail of a rabbit or a wild cat in the fresh snow, the lacy pattern of mice and rats in the winter, the spotted baby fawns in early June, and a thousand other gifts of nature were hers alone to enjoy. She never seemed to miss the companionship of other children.
After the Brocks moved back to the valley (perhaps because her mother was pregnant again), Jessie’s heart was still on the mountain trails or down by the North Fork with its icy water and eager trout. The valley never seemed quite like home to her, and she longed to be back in the High Cascades with her mountain friends.
As she grew older, Jessie searched for her own ideal place to call home. In 1916, while she was visiting her Uncle Frank Warner in Oakridge, he told her about a beautiful and remote valley, surrounded by trees and cradled among the mountains. It was six long trail miles above McCredie Springs. The moment that Jessie arrived there, she knew she had found her own paradise home. She named it Bonnie Brae after her mother’s family ranch in Scotland.
Jessie was strong and muscular, even though she was small in stature. The determined young woman worked from daylight until dark to build a cabin before winter set in. She only had help from her Uncle Frank to put up rafters and split shakes for the roof.
As the snow blanketed her valley, Jessie put her tools away and went to Portland to work in the woolen mills. As she tended the busy shuttles, she dreamed, lived frugally, and saved every penny possible.
In the spring, Jessie returned to Bonnie Brae and immediately planted both a flower garden and a vegetable garden. She loved the beauty of the flowers, and she appreciated the fresh produce she was raising. And so did the deer! Soon, a fence was built, and that solved the problem.
Aside from the critters in the surrounding forest, Jessie’s only companions were her horse, Silver, and her pampered tomcat, Dick. She loved to fish, and Dick liked nothing better than a fresh trout. As one struggled on the hook, Dick would plunge into the water and help retrieve his meal. A dog could never be considered, as it would prove much too noisy and drive away many of Jessie’s woodland friends.
Jessie was a fine cook, and the owner of McCredie Springs Resort asked her to help him out by cooking for his clientele. From that time on, Jessie didn’t have to return to Portland to earn money.
McCredie Springs – Jessie Brock Proprietor
On one occasion, the Forest Service had a crew of men working on roads and trails along Salt Creek. Roy Beamer was a member of that crew. He was attracted to Jessie’s efficient, no-nonsense independence. He loved her cooking and told her so. She succumbed to his charms and soon she accepted his proposal of marriage. He went to live with her at Bonnie Brae.
That year was a cold, hard winter and the snow piled high around the cabin. Roy was restless for something to do and hated the deadly quiet. Before spring came, he was long gone. Jessie never bothered to find another mate and she continued to live alone.
Jessie loved to write poetry, and she wrote this poem; a sentiment that I think we can all relate to:
Oh! To nestle in the bosom of nature,
To hide from the world and its sting,
As a wee bird creeps for protection
Neath the shelter of its mother’s wing.
There is power in the brooding stillness,
I feel, but I cannot see,
As the throbbing heart of the forest
In its silence speaks to me.
Bonnie Brae was sold in 1937, and Jessie went to live with her sister. Two years later, both were killed at a railroad crossing.
SHEILA CHITWOOD
Sheila Chitwood is a retired accountant and treasurer of the Oakridge Museum. She lives with her husband Dwight and their cat, Callie. She can be reached at [email protected]. If you have any interesting stories about your local ancestors, please contact her.
