HomeMy Public PortalAboutIdaho History: BusinesslUC,C,c) 5
6
ovwwwwwwwwwwwvon
Out of the Past
By Earl Willson
The above photo depicts what a
laborious task it involved to obtain
needed lumber in numerous places
through -out the remote areas even
following the turn of the century
when thousands of board feet were
"whip -sawed by the "head sawyer"
and his helper in the "pit". Only
difference between the two labor-
ers was the "edge" that the top
man had when he practically walk-
bor, if need be. In those days if
cabin floors, doors and articles of
household furnishings were not
hand manufactured from split
"puncheon," they were made a
little better looking, but any more
durable, from whipsawed lumber.
Like -wise mine car steel trucks
were topped by bodies hand manu-
factured either from hand hewn or
whipsawed lumber, as well as most
of the rails on which they were
pushed under ground.
Today, those then quite neces-
sary" implements of torture" are
being sought by the curio and an-
tique hunters even in the remotest
"cabin, some perhaps long since
decayed into their foundation of
mother earth. Today the long slen-
ed the log side, in following the der whipsaw, and the frow for
chalk line above the man in the hand splitting shakes are as non -
"pit" who kept his eyes on the line
while getting all the sawdust down
his back. However it was, to our
way of thinking, about an evenly
matched grueling task no matter
the top or bottom. And one in those
days could often hear the expres-
sion that to be a "good whipsawy"
er" a man had to be limber in the
shoulders, strong in the back and
weak in the head."
To be specific however, the wri-
existent as the old leather sided
blacksmiths bellows and other tools
of that craft. In fact when talking
to an official of the Idaho Histori-
cal Museum here in Boise recently,
the writer was informed that there
was only one shake frow in the
establishment. But on the other
hand some one or more of these
relicks may come to light like the
old rusty canteen that was recently
found on the battle ground where
ter, who incidentally whip sawed the Sheepeater Indians were cap -
lumber quite frequently with his tired by U.S. troops on lower Big
father during the early 1900's Creek. The finder, a member of
when, along with the other tasks
of hand splitting shakes, burning of
charcoal pits and other numerous
jobs that had to be completed dur-
ing the short snow free seasons
in the high mountains, the log to
be sawed into lumber was stripped
clean of its bark, both ends squar-
ed, and in turn identically pencil
, marked to the various lumber dem-
insions desired, and to be follow-
ed by chalk -lining both top and
bottom of the log its entire length
after previously being securely
Larry Garners hunting party, when
asked by the latter what he'd take
for his find, replied that money
couldn't buy it.
What a blessing it is that our
way of life has graduated from
such hand tools as the foot adze,
the broad ax, and to a lesser degree
the ordinary hand or chopping ax,
that because of the chain saw, has
just about been relegated to the
menial task of wood splitting.
Scores of laborers on Wooden bri-
dge construction, and in fact all
"dogged" down to the top of the structures where wooden beams
pit frame, as illustrated in the
photo.
An example of whipsawing on a
fairly large scale can still be view-
ed on the old Sim Willy ranch on
the Southfork of the Salmon River
(now owned by Mr. and Mrs. Clare-
nce Ribulette) where remains of a
flume to carry irrigation water on-
to the ranch land from Sheep
Creek is still in evidence, and be-
ing used, despite the fact that this
lumber was whipsawed about the
year 1911 by a handful of moun-
tain inhabitants who in those days
unselfishly turned to assist a neigh -
were used in framework, and
where the foot adze and broad ax
were considered indespensable,
were injured, sometimes for life,
by these razor sharp tools often in
the hands of expert axmen who
could walk down a log or other
timber, and neatly hew out a chalk -
line mark. Today the axmen is non-
existent unless he be one no longer
young and able to "cut the must-
ard anv more"
fl4-w�
The View from Here
RHINESTONES DON'T COUNT
Stetson hats, pearl -buttoned shirts and high -
heeled boots don't make a cowboy. That's what
we discovered this month after talking to several
Idaho cowboys and cowgirls. I, for one, took the
West's most famous character for granted,
assuming that today's cowboy was more a pro-
duct of fashion and style than the result of a
stuborn, spunky philosophy, a hard working and
hard playing way of life, and the conviction that
what they do is right. The lines are clear.
Whether your're referring to ranch or rodeo
cowboys (rhinestones don't count), there's hard-
ly a "grey" man or middle-of-the-roader out
there. Cowboys and cowboying are alive. and
well. In fact, as a way of life it must rank as one
of the most tough -knuckled vertebra in the
backbone of American culture.
Visit to Wildhorse Canyon
You don't have to look far to find a cowboy.
For us it required a visit to Wildhorse Canyon, .
located in the mountains west of Council, to meet
Jay Quilliams and George Neurohr. Quilliams;
cowboy turned cattleman, owns the X Cross
Ranch in Wildhorse, and George Neurohr
manages the Seven Devils Ranch at Bear. Both
men have cowboyed and take an avid interest in
every aspect of it. They both openly admitted
that they are not, in the strict sense of the word,
cowboying today. "A cowboy is a hired hand on
horseback," Quilliams responded almost
automatically when asked for a definition of one.
"They're men who move from ranch to ranch
working cattle."
That a cowboy isn't a ranch hand or vice versa
was made very clear by both men. Cowboys
work cattle - they don't mend fences or put up
hay. It's that simple. Of course, they admitted
that it is very difficult to find themselves doing
jobs they don't consider part of cowboying. The
problem is one today's cowboy has to live with
since it's estimated not more than 2,000 straight
riding jobs exist in the country today and
cowboying isn't a job you drift into by accident or
do because other jobs are not available. Jay
Quilliams, for instance, set out to become a
cowboy and worked ranches from Arizona to
British Columbia for nine years. George Neurohr
left college to cowboy in Montana and Oregon.
It's not a job a man does for pay, because the pay
is low ($400 to $700 a month); it's a job a man
wants to do. It must be because the pay is no
compensation for the lonely months on the
range, the long working hours and grueling
work. A cowboy's pay comes in personal
satisfaction and the knowledge that a job was
well done in spite of the rigorous working condi-
tions. "Being one's own man" is what's impor-
tant to a cowboy, and cowboying makes that
possible.
A ranch or rodeo background isn't a prere-
quisite to becoming a cowboy. Neither Jay nor
George grew up in that kind of setting. Instead,
each had a desire to be a cowboy - they had the
feeling for it. And the feeling is important. It's
what makes most experienced cowhands say that
cowboys are made - not born.
Before the day was over at Wildhorse Canyon,
the two men convinced me that America's
cowboy, the hired hand on horseback, the drifter
and loner, is still with us and will be around for a
long time. Probably, there's one out there right
now traveling down some dusty road in a 50's
model pickup, heading for his next job. Loaded
in the back of his truck is about $1800 worth of
cowboy gear, - nearly everything he owns. If he
has five years of experience, he's probably a top
thand. If he has less, he's still got a few things to
laarn That hP'c married is unlikely; that he cares
about success in the usual sense is also unlikely.
His job isn't easy or high paying, and the way of
life isn't a comfortable one, but he lives it
bacause it's satisfying to him. As George
Neurohr said, "Old cowboys never die, they just
ride on to the next ranch."
The feature article in this issue is an interview,
conducted by Alice Koskela, with Dean Oliver,
Idaho's world champion calf roper. For a taste of
that stubborn, spunky cowboy philosophy men-
tioned above read Conversation with a
Cowgirl following the Oliver article. And the
other cowboy features should be of interest also.
As usual, we came at this month's theme as hard
and fast as time and ability would permit. This is
by no means the last word on cowboys, but
rather a beginning. Many people contributed to
the information gathered for this issue. Vivian
McGown, Clara Harrington and Eva Rufelt of
Council should be thanked. Ben Sedgewick of
John's Leather Goods in Weiser steered us in the
right direction and Angela Armitage of Cam-
bridge was interviewed. Mrs. Jimmy Hurley,
Public Relations Director of the Snake River
Stampede offered help, and, of course, Jay
Quilliams and George Neurohr came through on
down-to-earth cowboy facts. Thanks to all.
Keep on the Trail.
LRP
I
-
g sad
Print shop of the Payette Independent Enterprise October 1913. Who said running a newspaper
was an easy business?
//7
jai? — /95')
Photographs courtesy of Idaho Historical Society
A blacksmith shop in Midvale. Shown is Arthur A. Watkins.
,(2klei-7,t.),i 'N1/4
EN THE Idaho gold rush be-
gan in 1861, not only gold min-
ers but all kinds of other people
flocked to the fast -rising communi-
ties in the mountains. Among them
were newspapermen, who struggled
in with presses and paper and a few
cases of type. Within the first year
or so, newspapers were being pub-
lished in the new mining country. By
modern standards, the papers were
only little four -page weekies, but in
those earliest days they had an im-
portance far greater than their size.
Today, for anyone interested in
Idaho's history, the files of these
newspapers are among the most im-
portant sources of information. Is-
sue by issue, these files unfold the
story of the territory and the state
of Idaho, written down as it hap-
pened. News stories, editorials, legal
notices, advertisements —every kind
of entry helps to round out the pic-
ture of what life was like when Idaho
was beginning. The pages reflect the
national news and its effect on Idaho;
The Statesman, established a cen-
tury ago today, was among the major
Idaho newspapers from the begin-
ning. Its outstanding, able editors
were a real force in the community.
Its ambitious publication schedule of
three issues a week and its location
in the capital of the territory gave it
stature in its earliest days, and it
continues to be a much -consulted ref-
erence. Its continuity from the earli-
est times of the territory to today
makes it Idaho's oldest newspaper.
Undoubtedly, at the end of the next
century, Idahoans will still be read-
ing it for news and consulting it for
history.—H. J. Swinney, Idaho His-
torical Society director.
f-a:t
An 88-year-old fire bell which was
used to summon volunteer firemen
in early days still hangs in the belfry
of Central Fire Station.
Not only did the bell serve as a
fire alarm. Until the 1930s it
sounded curfew and warned the
younger generation it was time to
head for home. The bell also was
used for tolling respect to departed
members of the Fire Department and
city officials.
Fire Chief Steve Taylor said that
as far as he knows the 'Dell hasn't
been rung for 25 years or more.
The bell was made in Troy, N. Y.,
and shipped to Kelton, Utah, and
brought by mule -drawn freighter to
Boise in 1880. It cost nearly $600
and was paid for by Boise business-
men. It weighs 400 pounds.
a Inc STATESMAN, BVIbe, rvwnuay, 'vial 1.A I o 1, i aov
C.C. Anderson —
the J.C. Penny
of Idaho retailing
By ARTHUR HART
One of the great success stories
in American retailing is that of
J.C. Penney. By a curious chain of
coincidences, his career closely
paralleled that of a man who be-
came famous in Idaho the same
time. His name was Columbus C.
Anderson.
C.C. Anderson was born in Os-
ceola, Mo., on Nov. 2, 1873. He
liked to say that he was "the son
of a Missouri horse trader." He
completed a course at the Valpa-
raiso Indiana Commercial School
in 1893. J.C. Penney was born near
Hamilton, Mo., in 1875. He worked
in a retail store in Hamilton until
1897.
In 1893, Anderson moved to
Boulder City, Colo., where he
went to work for the T M. Calla-
han Co. which operated several
small stores called' The Golden
Rule. In 1897, Penney moved to
Colorado for his health. He went
to work for the Golden Rule chain
at Longmont, Colo.
Meanwhile, Anderson had
moved to Boise City, where in
April, 1896, he opened his own
store.
Anderson's Golden Rule Store
began in a very modest way with
three employees. In 1898 he mar-
ried Henrietta Walter, Boise. In
1902, Penney was sent by his em-
ployers to Kemmerer, Wyo., to
open a new store. He was allowed
to buy a one-third interest in the
Kemmerer store, and a similar in-
terest in the chain's Rock Springs
branch. In 1908 he bought out his
partners' interests, and started
his own chain. By the end of 1908
he owned five stores.
Idaho
Yesterdays
Anderson had started his chain
operation in 1899 with a store at
Weiser. By 1913 he had eight
stores in Idaho: Boise, Weiser,
Payette, Caldwell, Mountain
Home, Emmett, New Plymouth
and Midvale. He employed more
than 100 people. By 1913 Penney
had 48 stores. He moved his head-
quarters to New York City and
began a nationwide expansion
which reached 500 stores by 1924.
In the 1950s, the number passed
1,500 stores.
Both men were devout Chris-
tians who truly believed that busi-
ness should be operated according
to the Golden Rule: "Do unto oth-
ers as you would have them do
unto you." Penney, who dropped
the name "Golden Rule" from his
stores in favor of his own, nev-
ertheless wrote a book in 1950,
when he was 75 years old, entitled
Fifty Years Experience with the
Golden Rule.
Anderson eventually developed
a chain of Golden Rule stores in
Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Col-
orado, and Utah, which numbered
34. He was president of his com-
pany for 40 years and chairman of
its board of directors from 1938
until his retirement.
In 1913 the Idaho Daily States-
man featured Anderson's success
C.C. Anderson
story in a long article headed
"How One Man Found and Seized
Golden Opportunity in Boise." It
outlined Anderson's unusual busi-
ness formula, which in addition to
treating customers fairly (accord-
ing to the Golden Rule) included
"no credit, no bookkeepers, no
stationery, no billheads."
By reducing the overhead inci-
dent to charge acounts, bad debts,
and paper work, Anderson was
able to sell more merchandise at
lower prices than his competition.
Understood in this way, the
Golden Rule meant saving cash
customers the cost of bad debts
for which Other businesses had to
increase their prices.
A money -back guarantee was
another feature of the Golden
Rule stores which attracted cus-
tomers.
Anderson's later career and ac-
complishments will be the subject
of the next column.
(Arthur Hart is director of the
Idaho Historical Society)
T.-
Bon Marche started out as C. C. Anderson's Golden Rule Store on Idaho Street
Civic activist C.C. Anderson
left mark on Boise business
By ARTHUR HART
C.C. Anderson, who built a
,pain of Golden Rule stores in
daho, Oregon, Washington, Col-
trado, and Utah, was active in a
ariety of other enterprises in
toile after his arrival in 1896.
In 1907 he was made a director
f the First National Bank of
daho, a position he held until his
eath Dec. 27, 1958. He was also a
ragtime trustee of St. Luke's
lospital, was treasurer and later
resident of the Idaho Children's
lime, and active in a number of
ivic clubs and fraternal orders —
nderson was a Shriner, an Elk, a
.otarian, and a member of the
hamber of Commerce.
One of Anderson's greatest ac-
mmplishments was helping Boise
t fulfill a dream of more than 40
>ars standing — getting the
nion Pacific main line into the
ipital city: He was chairman of
ie board that raised $450,000 to
?t the railroad to reroute its
ain line trains via a new loop
hich brought them to the Bench
)ove Capitol Boulevard. The pre -
Tit mission -style depot was built
1925 in time for the arrival of
e first train.
A trusteeship was established to
Idaho.
Yesterdays
safeguard the Union Pacific
against future increased assess-
ments of its property. Since these
increased taxes on the railroad
failed to materialize, the trustee-
ship actually turned out to be a
good investment for the contribu-
tors of the $450,000, who made an
annual return of 105% on interest
and 109% on certificates over the
first 21 years.
The success of this effort con-
trasts with earlier attempts by
Boise business leaders who failed
to secure the main line. In 1899,
for example, Union Pacific pro-
mised to reroute the line if the
business community would raise
$270,000. After the first month, a
number of the leading property
owners had voluntarily con-
tributed a 10 percent assessment
on the value of their downtown
property. (John Broadbent's
share came to $25,047.50, nearly
twice as much as that of John
Lemp, the next highest contribu-
tor. J.R. DeLamar, the million-
aire miner, gave $10,000 — actu-
ally 45% of the assessed value of
his Boise property.) Although
about half the money was raised,
Boise had to wait another 25 years
until the committee headed by An-
derson was successful.
In World War I, Anderson
served as state fuel director, and
in World War II was director of
the Idaho Office of Price Admin-
istration. In 1927, he built Boise's
largest department store building
— the big Golden Rule store on
Idaho Street, which is now the
Bon Marche.
After his retirement, Anderson
devoted his last years to philan-
thropic work. He was a major
contributor to the First Methodist
Church and to the College of
Idaho.
He loved children, although he
never had any of his own. It was
reported at the time of his death
that he had personally handed out
candy to 905 youngsters who came
"trick or treating" on Halloween
to his big house on Warm Springs
Avenue.
(Arthur Hart is director of the
Idaho Historial Society.)
C.C. Anderksilfy0#arry Morrison ortfilfaho First National Bank's c
Dr) No, r ;,d ra(1',l 19RARY
PAYETTE LAKES
PROGRESSIVE CLUB
FALK'S STORE IN PAYETTE VALLEY WAS A SMALL SETTLEMENT IN ITSELF
... it was the `regional shopping center' of its day
Falk's Store Offered Respite
For Idaho Stagecoach Riders
Falk's Store in Payette Valley was
once one of the best known stops on
the stagecoach run from Boise and
the mines of Boise Basin to Oregon.
Named for Boisean Nathan Falk,
who operated a general store in the
valley when the post office was esta-
blished, Falk's Store was really a
small settlement and a "regional
shopping center" of its day.
James Toombs opened a store in
the vicinity in 1864. A few years later
the business was taken over and oper-
ated by A.J. McFarland, who had
worked for the Toombs since 1870.
Nathan Falk, who was in partnership
with his brother, David, in the Boise
firm of D. Falk & Brother, placed
young Ed Shainwald in charge when
he establsihed the rival business a
mile and a half up the valley in 1867.
In 1876 a Statesman reporter who
visited Falk's Store noted the con-
struction of a fine new "Granger Hall
building," which also doubled as the
schoolhouse. Only a year later, when
the Nez Perce war broke out, local
people were so worried about roving
bands of local Indians (Shoshonis,
not Nez Perce) that they fortified the
Idaho
Yesterdays
By Arthur Hart
building as a refuge for women and
children from isolated ranches. Let-
ters were written to the governor of
the territory requesting rifles because
farmers were poorly armed against
possible Indian attacks — which
never came.
A post office, established Dec. 7,
1871 officially had given the name
`Falk's Store" to the settlement, and
usually employees of the business
handled the mail as well. In 1877,
Charles Leistner, manager of the
store after Ed Shainwald returned to
Boise, was named postmaster.
Falk's Store also had a hotel, a
saloon, a :neat market and a black-
smith shop at the time of the Indian
scare of 1877. Elliott's 1884 History
of Idaho Territory mentions boot and
shoe shops, omits the saloon, but con-
firms Falk's Store had "one of the
best schoolhouses in the valley." W.
R. Cartwright was in charge of the
store itself by then.
By the turn of the century stage -
coaching through Payette Valley was
a thing of the past. The Oregon Short
Line Railroad made the old route ob-
solete and left Falk's Store a lonely
place in a quiet farming neighbor-
hood. In the 1870s it was said that
Nathan Falk did a $60,000 business
in one year on the Payette, but those
days would never come again.
On Feb. 7, 1922, fire destroyed the
last general store building at the loca-
tion. Although not Nathan Falk's
original structure, the place still went
by that name. All traces of the stage-
coach station that became a town
soon disappeared. Only a few people
can still locate the spot where Falk's
Store stood.
Nathan Falk prospered in Boise,
however, and the 1896 store building
he and his brothers built still stands
at Eighth and Main streets. The ele-
gant Queen Anne -style mansion he
built at 39 Warm Springs Ave. in
1901 was razed in 1972. Only the
golden oak dining room from this
great house still survives, and is at
the Idaho Historical Museum in Julia
Davis Park.
r-
Boise, Sunday, September 30, 1979
Survivor
Bessie Falk continues
pioneer family tradition
'By CHARLEY BLAINE
The Idaho Statesman
By her own admission, Bessie Falk is a survivor.
For 33 years, Falk, from one of Boise's oldest fam-
ilies, has owned and operated the J. Weil & Co., an in-
stitutional food distributing business and has resisted
the temptation to sell out.
Last month, she moved her business from its old
quarters at 515 S. 9th St. out to a big, new building at
5907 Clinton St. and plans to hold a food show for her
customers on Oct. 6 and 7. At least 60 companies will
have exhibits at the J. Weil & Co. warehouse.
In an interview last week, Falk revealed her secret
for success: "I'm nasty." Then she laughed. "I've
had good people working for me."
But Falk conceded there was more to her business
than hiring good people. Mostly Falk herself.
She had the financial ability to buy a business; she
knew to whom she might turn to obtain financing for
her business; and she had a business education, a rar-
ity for women of her generation.
Falk said it was difficult to keep all the Falks
straight.
The family came to Idaho in 1864 with 2 brothers,
Nathan and David. Nathan was the retailer, and
David, Falk's grandfather, was a wholesaler. David's
son, Leo F., continued in the wholesale business, and
Leo J., Nathan's son, was in the retail business. Her
brother Harris's son, John, works for her.
Falk's mother was a graduate of Stanford Univer-
sity and wanted her daughter to go there. Eventually,
Falk went to Stanford, but only after spending a year
at the University of Washington where her brother at-
tended. "We'd study every Sunday at the library and
go out for dinner afterward," she said.
Harris went to New York and recently retired as an
executive with Bloomingdale's department store,
part of the Federated Stores chain.
Falk earned her bachelor's degree at Stanford in
1931 and remains a loyal member of the Stanford Club
of Idaho.
After attending the Stanford Graduate School of.
Business for a semester, she transferred to New York
University, where she earned a master's degree in re-
tailing in 1937. Not yet finished with New York, a city
she said she didn't like much, Falk worked for B. Alt-
man's department store for 2 years before coming
home again.
But she didn't enter either her father's business
(Falk's Wholesale Co., now Boise Wholesale and Dry
Goods, located in Boise's warehouse district) or the
Leo J. Falk's businesses, Falk's Mercantile Co. (now
Falk's I.D.) and the Mode Ltd.
Instead, she worked for the Distributive Education
Program, a vocational program started in the 1930s,
and for the Idaho Department of Public Assistance.
In 1941, as World War II was breaking out, she
began teaching business courses at Boise Junior Col-
lege. "During the war, I was the business depart-
ment," she said.
After the war she took over the J. Weil & Co., a
small candy and tobacco distributor. Weil was retir-
ing, and Falk owned the land. Her mother, whom
Falk describes as "an aristocratic lady," didn't ap-
prove of her daughter's moving from the Junior
League to running a tobacco distributing business.
But the daughter was determined.
She saw quickly, however, that a candy and to-
bacco distributor ship wasn't going to make a lot of
money and started getting into other sorts of
distributing.
Eventually, she became a distributor of products
from the Nugget Co. and, later, signed on with the
NIFDA (the National Institutional Food Distributors
Association), a cooperative which supplies distribu-
tors that sell to hospitals, restaurants, schools and
other non -retail outlets.
Her business extends from Ontario to McCall to the
Magic Valley.
Falk also is a master distributor for Coca-Cola Inc.
A master distributor sells bulk supplies of Coke that
are intended for fountain use. Falk said her master
distributorship means she competes occasionally
with local Coca-Cola bottling franchises.
Falk doesn't sell any tobacco products any more
and only national brands of candies to drive-in movie
theaters.
Getting her business financed in 1946 wasn't easy.
The Idaho First National Bank said no to her loan ap-
plication. But the late J. Lynn Driscoll, then president
of the First Security Bank, agreed to lend Falk
$25,000.
Falk made the interest payments for several years,
but didn't do much to reduce the principal. Driscoll fi-
nally called Falk to talk about the loan.
"OK, Bessie," Falk remembers Driscoll telling her.
"You've got to cut the cloth to fit the pattern." Falk
paid off the principal in a couple of years. "It was the
only debt we had until we moved. out here," she said
in her new office. AR
-� 'ha
Falk said she's been conscious of competing in a
man's world, but she never thought nor worried about
sexism. Only competing. Again, she said, that was
partly due to her background ("I come from a family
of peddlers, after all.") and her education.
Mostly, she never considered women's rights a big
issue for her. "I think women used d to be afraid of
going into business," she said. ;
Besides, she said, "I've never 1*en' very domes-
tic."
PAYETTE LAKES
Pt,G3°EsS !` E CLUB
_iP RARY
��'