Husband Alexander Goodpasture
Born: Aug 12, 1821
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Hamilton Goodpasture (1811-1888)
Mother: Eleanor Ellison (1820-1879)
Marriage:
Wife Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Living
Mother:
Other Spouse: Living
Children
1 M Thurston Goodpasture
Born: Sep 25, 1855 - Lane County, Oregon
Christened:
Died: Sep 18, 1941 - Eugene, Oregon
Buried:
Husband Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Abraham Goodpasture (Abt 1782-1866)
Mother: Hannah Willard (1791-1881)
Marriage:
Wife Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Living
Mother:
Other Spouse: Alexander Goodpasture (1821- )
Children
Husband Andrew J. Goodpasture
Born: Aug 18, 1840 - Morgan County, Illinois
Christened:
Died: Feb 6, 1868
Buried:
Father: Hamilton Goodpasture (1811-1888)
Mother: Eleanor Ellison (1820-1879)
Marriage:
Wife Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Children
Husband George Washington Moul Wilson 42
Born: Sep 17, 1830 - Ohio 66
Christened:
Died: Apr 17, 1911 - Pacific County, Washington
Buried: - Wilson Cemetery, Wilson Point, Pacific County, Washington
Father: Daniel Pegg Wilson (1804-1890) 32,52,53,54,55,56,57,58,59,60,61,62,63
Mother: Rosanna Hough Moul (1814-1850) 64
Marriage: Jan 22, 1873 - Eugene, Oregon
Other Spouse: Ann Eliza Clark (1829-1868) - Dec 22, 1850 - Cass County Illinois 67
Wife Elizabeth Goodpasture
AKA: Lizzie Goodpasture
Born: Nov 9, 1836 - Morgan County, Illinois
Christened:
Died: Aug 30, 1925 - South Bend, Pacific County, Washington
Buried: - Wilson Cemetery, Wilson Point, Pacific County, Washington
Father: Hamilton Goodpasture (1811-1888)
Mother: Eleanor Ellison (1820-1879)
Other Spouse: John Ford (1832-1857) - May 7, 1854 - Sagamon County, Illinois
Other Spouse: Martin Samuel Fancher (1836- ) - Mar 3, 1859
Children
1 M John Emerson Wilson 41
AKA: Emerson John Wilson
Born: Mar 31, 1875 - Wilsonville, Pacific County, Washington
Christened:
Died: Dec 25, 1963 - Tacoma, Pierce County, Washington
Buried: - Sunset Lane Cemetery, Port Orchard, Kitsap Country, Washingtont
Spouse: Clara Margaret Bennett (1864-1941)
Marr: Aug 27, 1900 - Portland, Oregon. (Divorced)
Spouse: Living
Spouse: Clara Margaret Bennett (1864-1941)
Marr: Apr 4, 1908 - Portland, Oregon
2 M Howard Morton Wilson
Born: Jul 29, 1878
Christened:
Died: 1960
Buried:
Spouse: Mary Agusta Rhodes (1887-1941)
3 F Olive Eleanor Wilson
Born: Sep 24, 1880
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Spouse: Living
General Notes: Husband -
George W. Wilson was in the business of oyster harvesting in Willapa Bay, Washigton. He also was involved in cattle ranching on his land and being the respected patriarch of Wilsonville, a village on Willapa Bay, Washigton. George took up other lands adjoining his original claimaround Wilsonville until at one time he had a thousand acres. George was a prominent Pacific County Washington citizen, twice elected as County Commissioner.
George Wilson migrated with his father's family to the Oregon territory from Morgan County Illinois in 1852. George may have lived earlier in the Murphysboro area of Jackson County Illinois as it was said that he played the flute in the Murphysboro, Illinois band.
The following is an account of George Washington's experiences beginning after their arrival in Oregon City, as written by George Washington Wilson's son, Emerson J. Wilson:
They arrived in early September, made camp to rest a few days, then sold their wagons and animals and hired some Indians to take their household goods down to Portland. The goods were transported in Indian canoes, but they no more than got started when one upset and most of their things were lost. At Portland, camp was made near what is now Stark Street between First and Second. There were no buildings near them --- just uncleared land and stumps. (In after years, about 1882, Father took his family on a visit to Portland; it wasn't much of a town even in the '80's. He tried to find their old house. I remember Father said to Mother: "It was just about here the house stood --- there should be a big stump over there." However, the stump was gone and we could only approximate the location of the first Wilson home in the West.) In the late fall of 1852, Father went to work as a carpenter in Portland. He got $1.50 for a ten hour day, and he had to pay $50 for a sack of flour, with other goods proportionately high. A pair of hip-length rubber boots sold for $50 that year. Before spring came, one of the employers owed him $150. Unable to pay in cash, he offered to deed him two lots on Morrison Street for the bill. But Father said: "No, I don't want the lots. I'll wait until you can pay me the cash." I don't know if he ever got the cash, but the two lots would have later brought him a lot more than the wages. In the spring of 1853, Father heard of the oyster business on Shoalwater Bay. He decided to see this country, so he bought some lumber and built a large flat-bottomed skiff, also making oars, sails and a mast. After making arrangements to provide for his family while he was gone, he started out early one morning, sailed out the Willamette into the Columbia, down that river and turned into Baker's Bay. He then proceeded up the Wallicut as far as navigation was possible. Hauling his boat out of water, he covered it with brush and grass. Making up a pack of all he could carry, he took an old Indian trail north to Bear river, which empties into Shoalwater Bay. When he arrived at the head of Bear river, he found the country very rough and thickly covered with underbrush, making foot travel difficult. Nearby was an Indian burial place where the natives had placed their dead in canoes in a grove of trees. Father cut down one of these canoes, scooped up the bones which he buried in the ground, repaired the hull, made a launching into Bear river, and paddled on down the bay. He paddled past Long Island, the Naselle and Nemah rivers, Sand Point, Goose Point; it was clear, bright weather with not a cloud in the sky. As he looked across the Palix river he saw a beautiful shore, ablaze with the setting sun. He determined to go to that shore and camp for the night, as it was too late to go farther. When he landed, he said to himself: "I think this is what I have been looking for." He hauled his canoe up to high water mark and made camp under some sheltering spruce trees. Not far from where he camped there was a small Indian village. The next morning, while he was cooking his breakfast, an old Indian came up to converse by means of the Chinook jargon. Father asked the old man where the Bostons (Americans) were located, and the Indian pointed north, saying "Siah, wake siah kopa Willapa Chuck", which in English means "Not far up the Willapa river." Mud flats in front of the camp extended as far north as could be seen. A close inspection showed them to be covered with native oysters. Directly across the Palix river which, in conjunction with the Niawaukum, ran in front of his camp site, there was a peninsula running in a northerly direction, the tip of which was Goose Point. About three-quarters of a mile away, where the town of Bay Center is now located, Dr. James R. Johnson filed his homestead. Father explored the area thoroughly, and was sure this was the place for him. He fell to work building a cabin, a small one of logs. Then, launching his canoe again, he paddled north along the shore, passing Bone river, then called Querquellin by the Indians. Here James G. Swan compiled his book Northwest Coast; Three Years at Shoalwater Bay; or Three Years in Washington Territory. In due time, Father rounded Stony Point, which place was occupied by Charles J.W. Russell and afterward taken up by W.B. Clark, who lived there with his family of wife, three sons and two daughters for many years. One half mile east of Stony Point was the settlement of Bruceport. This place consisted of about twelve families and as many or more of Indians. There was a trading post on the order of the Hudson's Bay stores. About once every month a two-masted schooner from San Francisco would call and buy oysters. Father inquired as to selling oysters, and was told the prospects were good. He was advised to bring along all he could get, but to make it a point to have them there the day before the schooner was due. At the store, he purchased a pair of oyster tongs, a rake, scoop shovel, and other needed supplies. These he loaded into his canoe and returned to his cabin on the Palix river. The more he looked around, the more he was convinced that this was the spot to settle on. The rivers were full of king, silver and calico salmon. There were many ducks, geese, brant, and snipe. He saw herds of deer and elk grazing on the tidelands, mud flats were filled with an abundance of oysters and clams. Truly, a good living was just a matter of a muzzle-loading shot gun and a shovel! Father consulted with the old Indian he had met the morning after his arrival; his American name was Sam, and he became a fast friend and good companion. He brought two or three of his fellow tribesmen to help in harvesting oysters for market. These they brought closer to shore to cull, or sort, then left them until the schooner was expected. At the schooner bed, they pulled along side and waited their turn to discharge the cargo. After being paid off, they would go ashore, buy such supplies as they needed, and return home. On the days the tides were wrong for oystering, they made exploratory trips together, looking over the land, paddling up the Niawaukum and Palix rivers, finding areas suitable for stock grazing. In the early fall of 1853, Father returned to Portland, and that winter he again worked as a carpenter. He filed for a donation claim of 620 acres, though in the following years he took up other lands adjoining the original claim until at one time he had a thousand acres. By the spring of 1854, there was a river steamer running between Portland and Astoria. Grandfather Daniel, one son and two daughters, came in April of that year to Astoria, across the Columbia into Baker's Bay by canoe, and on to the claim on the Palix to clear land and otherwise improve the place. In the summer, Father brought his wife and son down, and engaged in planting seed oysters on his grounds in the bay. Grandfather took up a claim on the south fork of the Palix, and the Indians called it "Yeomstead", and by that name it was known for many years. In addition to his muzzle loading shot gun, Father had a muzzle loading rifle, known as a Yauger, which shot an ounce round ball; balls and patches were carried in the storage compartment in the stock of the gun. With this rifle, he killed many elk, deer, bear and a few wolves. Grandfather, too, was quite a hunter; in fact, he was given the nickname of "Cougar Wilson".
Lest this account grow too confusing, let me here give a brief history of my immediate family. Father's wife Ann Eliza, whom he brought to the claim that summer of 1854, was not my mother; she was the mother of Orlando, Mary Van, Edward, Eugene and George, Jr.
THE ERA OF THE INDIAN WARS
Now, let us go back to the year 1855 and resume our narrative. At that time, the Indians east of the mountains went on the war path and the Indians in the Sound country "raised", as the settlers termed their uprisings. The natives on this bay were peaceful, as the coming of the white man had been an asset rather than a liability. There was plenty of game and seafood for all, and by working at gathering oysters, they could buy goods at the store; they were not inclined to make trouble. The Indians had their own grape-vine method of obtaining news from east of the mountains, Vancouver, British Columbia, and even as far north as Alaska. This was via the trade route. The Columbia river, Shoalwater bay and Grays Harbor Indians traded dried and smoked salmon and oysters east of the mountains in exchange for basket grasses which grew in the Cascades, food and flints for arrows. They also traded Kliskwiss, mats made of local flag reeds; these were used for bed blankets and to line their houses to keep out the cold. On these trading expeditions, the news from various parts of the country was passed along. When the uprisings of 1855 took place, the local Indians were badly worried. They held a pow wow among themselves and, after it was over, the head man, or local chief, came to see Father and said he represented the tribe and wished to make a treaty with him. The Indians valued their freedom to come and go above everything else, and their greatest dread was of being put on a reservation. "So," said the local head man, "We have held our counsel. We like the Boston people and wish to have a good feeling talk with you and make a treaty." Father said he was willing to do this and asked the Indian to state his case. "You see that the Great White Father does not put us on a reservation and we, the head Indians, will not go on the warpath or in any way molest the people around here. We will live in good spirit with the Boston men." Father agreed to do all he could, and all through the Indian trouble around the Sound country, the local natives kept their agreement with my father, and lived in peace and harmony forever after. One morning, a little before daybreak, Pather heard a knock on the cabin door. He found the Indian with whom he had made the treaty standing outside. The man was excited and said: "Come quick. Bad Indian come from far away, wants Indians to shoot white people. Take your gun and shoot bad Indian." Father quickly dressed and, grabbing his Yauger and powder horn off the wall, set out with the Indian. They took a trail over the hill that led down to the sandy beach on the east side of the long point of land jutting out into the bay. It was on this beach that the strange Indian had landed. But when Father and his friend reached the spot, the canoe and the trouble maker were gone. Looking across the water, Father could see the Indian paddling for all he was worth in the direction of Tokes Point, but he was out of shooting range. Perhaps other Indians had warned the intruder to clear out. At any rate, that was the nearest thing to an uprising happening on the bay in my father's time. Meanwhile, at the little settlement of Bruceport, a block house had been erected. Father bought supplies there. One day Captain Riddell asked him when he was going to bring his family in so as to be near the block house in case of trouble. He replied: "I am not going to bring my family in at all. We are going to stay right where we are." Others spoke up then, and there was a general discussion of the matter. Finally some one said: "Wilson, you can stay there and be scalped if you want to, but we are going to bring your family here where they will be safe." Father told them: "Don't try that. I've got guns and plenty of ammunition and you will have a war on your hands that you will long remember --- if you live through it. The Indians are my friends and will help defend my family and me." With that, he carried his goods to the canoe and paddled away. Blockhouse life was rough, and Father did not wish to expose his family to it. After returning home, he looked up the head Indian for a pow-wow, and was told: "You stay here and we will protect you from both bad Indians and bad white men. We will help each other and we will remain 'Kloshe tillicums' (good friends)." The men at the blockhouse did not go through with their threat, and father was never bothered by them. The oyster industry on the bay had increased rapidly, and some of the oysterman began to build sailboats and flat-bottom bateaus to use instead of the native canoes. There were two small boats shipped out of San Francisco to our bay on the deck of a schooner. They were twenty-two feet long and seven foot beam, clinker built cat boats with sail and mast, with long overhanging stern and center board. Father bought one of these boats and built a bateau, twenty feet in length and seven foot beam, square stern, half deck, which carried the oysters in the hold. This bateau was propelled with a long pole, cut and peeled from a spruce sapling. Using the pole, one would walk along the deck, bow to stern, pushing the en on the muddy bottom. There was also a sculling chock on the stern with an oar to scull with when the water was too deep to pole. Sometime after Father purchased the Staten Island skiff, he had occasion to go north across the bay to Tokes Point was in the month of January, just after a very cold spell of weather, and the bay had been frozen over. The rise and fall of the tides had broken up the family in so as to be near the block house in case of trouble. He replied: "I am not going to bring my family in at all. We are going to stay right where we are." Others spoke up then, and there was a general discussion of the matter. Finally some one said: "Wilson, you can stay there and be scalped if you want to, but we are going to bring your family here where they will be safe." Father told them: "Don't try that. I've got guns and plenty of ammunition and you will have a war on your hands that you will long remember --- if you live through it. The Indians are my friends and will help defend my family and me." With that, he carried his goods to the canoe and paddled away. Blockhouse life was rough, and Father did not wish to expose his family to it. After returning home, he looked up the head Indian for a pow-wow, and was told: "You stay here and we will protect you from both bad Indians and bad white men. We will help each other and we will remain 'Kioshe tillicums' (good friends)." The men at the blockhouse did not go through with their threat, and father was never bothered by them. The oyster industry on the bay had increased rapidly, and some of the oysterman began to build sailboats and flat-bottom bateaus to use instead of the native canoes. There were two small boats shipped out of San Francisco to our bay on the deck of a schooner. They were twenty-two feet long and seven foot beam, clinker built cat boats with sail and mast, with long overhanging stern and center board. Father bought one of these boats and built a bateau, twenty feet in length and seven foot beam, square stern, half deck, which carried the oysters in the hold. This bateau was propelled with a long pole, cut and peeled from a spruce sapling. Using the pole, one would walk along the deck, bow to stern, pushing the end on the muddy bottom. There was also a sculling chock on the stern with an oar to scull with when the water was too deep to pole. Sometime after Father purchased the Staten Island skiff, he had occasion to go north across the bay to Tokes Point. It was in the month of January, just after a very cold spell of weather, and the bay had been frozen over. The rise and fall of the tides had broken up the ice with the exception of the shore line. As Father's business was pressing, he decided to try the journey. He hired an Indian to go with him to help bail in case the waters grew so rough as to make that necessary. The day was dark and cloudy, and a fair breeze was blowing as they set sail on their five mile run across the bay. They proceeded north down the Palix channel, past Pine Island, across the Willapa river to Tokes Point which is now called Tokeland. When they rounded to, off the point, the wind had increased to a gale from the southeast, and the bay was showing white caps. The boat began to ship water and the Indian started bailing. He thought he could sail in behind the point and find a harbor from the wind and seas, but on closer approach he could see that the ice extended out from the shore too far at that spot. He tried to put about and beat to windward, but the increasing gale and high seas were too strong and the little craft was soon blown back against the ice over which the waves were breaking. The first crash against the ice shook the little boat until it seemed her planking would give way. The Indian was badly seared, but kept on bailing and soon had the water in the boat reduced, but had to keep at it steadily to prevent swamping. Father looked astern some fifty feet and saw a crack in the ice running toward shore. He said: "Our best chance is to try and work the boat back to that crack and see if we can chop along through the ice to where we can get some protection from the wind." They had two axes aboard and when they had the boat secured they both got out on the ice and began chopping a channel wide enough for the boat to enter. They cut in about twice the length of the boat, then cut a right hand turn in the ice so the seas wouldn't have a clean sweep at her. Then they hauled the boat in the opening, ran their anchor line out, cut a hole in the ice, and secured the anchor. By this time, the boat was nearly full of water again, so they bailed her out and felt she was pretty safe for the time being. They were nearly frozen and, as they walked ashore across the ice, their discomfort was increasing every minute. They made for the cabin of the settler whom Father had come to see. As they neared the house, the door was flung open and the man welcomed them into a warm room where he had a good fire going. Their host said: "Come in! I put the coffee pot on when I saw you crossing the bay. I was afraid you would lose your boat for sure." The warm stove and hot coffee soon thawed them out, and Father and the man transacted their business. After about an hour the wind shifted to the northwest and the storm was over. They boarded their boat, worked her out of the improvised channel, hoisted sail and were soon on their way. When Father paid the Indian for his help he said: "Mike delate kumtux, klatawa kopa skookum chuck," which meant, "You are a good sailor in a storm or rough water." The family was proud of this little sail boat and kept her many years, even after Father bought a much larger one. He finally sold her to an Indian named George Squamaup, who was the father of Joseph George who became famous for building round-bottomed crab and trolling boats. When W.R. Marion was a young boy, he left his native Ireland, following the sea, sailing in English ships. On one voyage he landed at Panama. After being paid off, he got a job carrying railroad iron along the path where a track was being built. Though he stood a good six feet and was a husky young man, this was a Herculean task; he had a hump on his back which he claimed was caused by carrying these loads of iron. Working his way across the Isthmus to the Pacific side, he shipped up the coast to San Francisco, where he took a job with a company handling oysters from Shoalwater bay and it wasn't long until he made up his mind to come up here. On his arrival in 1870, he had just fifteen cents in his pockets. Father gave him a job and took him into our home to live. In about a year, he and my half-sister, Mary Van, were married. Father gave "Dick" and Mary thirty acres of the donation claim as a wedding gift, land north around the point from the home place. They had one child, a daughter, who died when she was five years old. Dick worked hard and saved his money. After they had built a house about 300 yards from the beach he, with the backing of my father, bought an old flat bottom sloop and went into the oyster business for himself. In the meantime, he had staked out about 60 acres of tide flats between Bone river and Stony Point which was suitable for raising oysters. This was known as "the mountain bed" because it was of a higher elevation than the surrounding ones. Dick used his sloop to gather oysters from the South bay and transplant them to his own private grounds. In 1875, Dick, Father, his oldest son Orlando Wilson, Fred Craft, A.S. Bush, Captain West, Swanberg, L.H. Rhoades and L.A. Rhoades formed the Bay Center Oyster Company which was referred to as the BCO Co. Swanberg and West handled the San Francisco end; the other members shipped the oysters via schooner which generally loaded at Bruceport.
Notes: Marriage
Husband William M Layton
Born:
Christened:
Died: Jul 31, 1850 - Morgan County, Illinois
Buried:
Marriage: Mar 20, 1839
Wife Elizabeth Goodpasture
Born: Jan 14, 1817 - Overton County, Tennesse
Christened:
Died: 1866 - Jacksonville, Illinois
Buried:
Father: Abraham Goodpasture (Abt 1782-1866)
Mother: Hannah Willard (1791-1881)
Children
1 F Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
General Notes: Husband -
William M. Layton died on 7/31/1850 at morgan county, illinois and there is a probate record case #1928 on file for him
at the morgan county courthouse in Jacksonville, illinois.
Notes: Marriage
Husband Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Marriage:
Wife (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Children
1 M Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Husband Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Living
Mother:
Marriage:
Wife (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Children
1 M Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Husband Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Living
Mother:
Marriage:
Wife (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
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Children
1 M Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
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Spouse: Living
Husband James P. Goodpasture
Born: Mar 19, 1848 - Morgan County, Illinois
Christened:
Died: Nov 9, 1917
Buried:
Father: Hamilton Goodpasture (1811-1888)
Mother: Eleanor Ellison (1820-1879)
Marriage:
Wife Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Children
Husband John Ellison Goodpasture
Born: Oct 7, 1847 - Morgan County, Illinois
Christened:
Died: Mar 17, 1925
Buried:
Father: Hamilton Goodpasture (1811-1888)
Mother: Eleanor Ellison (1820-1879)
Marriage:
Other Spouse: Living
Wife Living (details have been suppressed)
Born:
Christened:
Died:
Buried:
Children