POTD 4/12
Hometown Bellfountain, Oregon
It occured to me that whist most folks have seen stuff from the perspective of the ranch, our tiny hamlet hadn’t been properly introduced.
When you see most of my photos, they are usually from the ranch looking east towards Bellfountain, and the Willamette Valley.
Let’s flip that right here and now, and begin the tour of Bellfountain, Oregon. FROM Bellfountain.
If you want a good, quick read, this is a great little book that encompasses much of the history of Bellfountain in the early part of the 1900's.
The gym is still in use today. Mostly for local events.
That picture way back, from the Game Feed? This is where that took place. Also still in use, mostly by the church for churchy things, but also available for parties, receptions, classes, etc.
I don’t remember exactly when it was built, but right at the turn of the century. The 20th century. They don’t build them like this anymore, and frankly, that’s not a bad thing. A maintenance nightmare, you broil in the winter, and broil in the summer. Unless the pastor forgot to stoke the furnance early Sunday morning in the winter, in which case, you freeze to death.
But, it’s quite pretty, and charming in its own way.
Yes, the bell in the cupola is still usable, and it gets exercised every few weeks. It reportedly came with the settlers from Bellfountaine, Ohio, who settled here in the mid 1800’s. Up until around 1906, when the post office finally closed for good, the town was known as ‘Dusty’.
Just go ahead and soak up that irony.
Like many tiny hamlets all over rural America, everyone pretty much knows everyone, and their business. We know when someone needs help, and there is no shortage of that help arriving. Almost everyone is part of the volunteer fire department, part of the Monroe Fire Protection District, so if you set your kitchen on fire making jam, the folks who arrive to put it out will already know where the bathroom is, which door you always leave unlocked, that Cricket will bite you, and that the beer is always cold.
This life isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay. I have great friends who couldn’t imagine not being able to pass the toliet paper to their neighbour thru the bathroom windows.
Personally, our closest neighbour is about 1/4 mile away, and that’s a bit close, mainly because his dog is an idiot who barks if his fleas fart.
Some of the biggest farmers/ranchers/loggers in our community are extremely well off, both in terms of money, and land. They work their butts off, are totally unprententious, would give you a kidney if you needed it, and drive ancient, 45 year old Ford pickups. At hubby’s party last Sunday, they showed up and partied, barely recognizable in their ‘Sunday go to meetin’ clothes’. Schools, streets, buildings all over western Oregon are named after them, or their relatives.
They’re just good folk to have in your corner of the world, and in your corner, personally. We’ve married some, buried some, and cried for most at one time or another.
Together. As a community. No one cares that I’m an Independent, and an atheist Jew. Or that I’m the one in the sea of camo at the Game Feed, wearing my ‘hippie camo’, aka tie dye. And even though he has since scraped the ‘Trump’ sticker off all his vehicles, we all know he voted for him, but now regrets it greatly. Doesn’t matter. He’s still part of this community, always will be.
No matter what.
