Valley historian Harold Teague has plenty of tales
Valley historian Harold Teague, today
From our weekly issue dated February 20, 2008
As a child, rural Cave Junction resident Harold Teague listened to the stories of his great-great grandmother, Malvina, about the Applegate Trail and how she got to Oregon by wagon train, led by her father, Hiram Lee.
She told how the train stopped at Immigrant Lake (near modern-day Ashland) and was surrounded by Indians, including their chief.
Hiram Lee took out his corn cob pipe and lit it, showing the chief that he wanted to smoke with him. The chief got out his own pipe, and they sat together. Lee gave the chief some tobacco, and they smoked together, making peace after a while. In parting, Teague’s relative gave the chief his favorite corn cob pipe, and the chief gave him his soapstone pipe, which Teague has in his possession.
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Teague (everyone calls him Harold), was born in 1920 in Prescott, Ariz., one of six children of migrant workers, Claude Teague and Wilda Teague.
Said Harold, “We traveled up and down the West Coast in an old Ford, working fruit harvests. In Oregon, we harvested mushrooms, ferns, hops, and gladiola bulbs. Hops and gladiolas were big industries then.”
They moved to Eagle Point in 1932. His great-great grandmother lived with his family. As a young teen-ager, Harold’s job was to look after Granny Malvina, who taught him to cook and bake cakes. He enjoyed it and went to baking school. As a result, he was always the cook wherever he went in life. Malvina knew a lot of Oregon history and filled his head with stories of the wagon trains and early Oregon pioneers.
His father later moved back to Arizona. Wilda Teague and her six children moved to Grants Pass in the 1930s. His parents eventually divorced. Wilda became a good businesswoman and owned several Grants Pass hotels and other property. She owned a dairy ranch near Medford, and her parents moved from Florence, Ore. to run the dairy.
Meanwhile, young Harold itched to see the country.
“I began hitch-hiking and hopping freight trains around the country,” he related. “It was easy to do in the 1930s,” he recalled.
As an adult, he moved to Illinois Valley, which he loved for its mountains, rivers and forests. He lived in Kerby, Waldo, and in the mountains, where he did some gold and copper mining.
Harold joined the U.S. Navy in 1942 as a cook and was wounded 90 days later at Pearl Harbor. He was discharged due to his wounds. He then joined the Merchant Marines and went around the world three times. He loved to travel and especially loved wilderness areas. One of his favorite places was Alaska.
“It was home,” he said, meaning that it was part of the United States and a wilderness.
In 1946, Harold returned to Illinois Valley and became a “mule skinner” or mule train driver. He worked for the U.S. Forest Service, taking mule trains from Grants Pass to Crater Lake. He hauled supplies to road-building crews near Crater Lake and to 10 fire lookout towers on mountains scattered around Southwestern Oregon. He loved the life of a mule-skinner, traveling through the Oregon mountains.
A younger Harold with ‘Monique’ on the trail
Occasionally, he also hauled loads from Coos Bay to Portland or headed southwest from Waldo to Brookings or Crescent City. He took his mule train where trucks could not go. He usually had 12 mules and three horses in a train, hauling a tremendous amount of supplies and goods to miners, work crews and forest fire lookouts.
He had a favorite donkey named “Monique” in the 1950s. She was so strong from pulling loads on mountain trails that she could carry more than her share of cargo. She would also alert Harold to the presence of cougars or bears better than any dog, according to Harold.
“She saved my life one time,” stated Harold, “She started whistling, snorting and stamping and scared off a bear.”
“Monique” was a sweet-natured, friendly donkey; his favorite traveling companion for 15 years. After he quit mule-skinning, she helped him work with troubled youth.
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Harold also married and had two sons, Larry and Leon. His wife and children stayed at home while he led mule trains for many years. Being gone so long and rarely at home to help raise his two sons, Harold’s wife wanted him to quit mule-skinning and settle down at a city job in Grants Pass. Harold told her that the mountains and running mule trains were his true love and he wouldn’t quit. They divorced after 43 years of marriage.
When the mule trains to Crater Lake were replaced by helicopters about 1955, the forest service made him a trail boss and sent him to Cave Junction. Harold recalls living in Waldo for a while, where he could take the trail over the mountain and follow it to the coast. He lived for a time on Eight Dollar Mountain, where he helped rebuild the old logging trail to Babyfoot Lake. He retired from forest service work in 1971.
He spent the 1960s working for Josephine County with troubled youth. “Monique,” his affectionate donkey, was a favorite of the youngsters in the program.
“I took them into the wilderness for about 10 days to learn how to rough it, read the stars, tell direction, find food, and learn self-reliance,” said Harold. “They had to build trails, work hard, learn to cooperate, and how to walk out of the wilderness.”
Most of his charges returned home with changed attitudes, and new dreams and goals. He feels the program made a big difference in their lives.
“I wish we still a program like that. The kids here sure do need it,” he remarked sadly.
Harold said he was lucky to have met so many of the old timers in his life -- miners, packers, mountain men and women who lived off the land in the Illinois Valley region long ago. When he spent time with them in the mountains, he said that he felt a spiritual connection.
He commented, “The old men had come to mine in their younger days and simply stayed after the mining boom ended.”
His son, Larry, inherited his father’s traveling gene and loved to travel the world. He once brought his father an intricately carved cane from Sumatra, which Harold treasures. Larry survived a light airplane crash on one of his Asian trips, and died years later of a heart attack. His other son, Leon, moved to Merced, Calif., where he worked for the county. His grandchildren and great-grandchildren live in Salem, Ore. and in California. Nothing is left of Harold’s Teague and Lee families in Southwestern Oregon today.
Into his 70s, Harold retained his amazing strength and was able do hard outdoor work. Approximately 10 years ago, he was trying to cut down a tree for firewood. He said it wouldn’t fall after he sawed the cut. He walked around it to look at the cut. Suddenly, the tree crashed down, trapping him on the ground, crushing 29 of his bones. A neighbor saw his situation and ran for help.
Harold survived many surgeries, although he still walks with a cane and a limp. When asked how he managed to live through that accident, he says it just wasn’t his time.
At age 87, besides being known for his homemade candy, Harold is recognized as an historian because of being a repository of so much of the history of Southwestern Oregon, the stories of his ancestors, his mule train experiences, world travels, miners and farmers and their stories.
He also has his lifetime collection of local artifacts and memorabilia. He still gives history talks and tours to groups. Those interested in learning more local history can often find Harold having lunch at the Junction Inn, where he is glad to share his stories.
He's a friendly sort with a ready smile. And he literally has lived history.
