George Dalton Allen

George is Marvene (McClellan) Cox’s son. His father is Alton (Al) Allen. He has two half-sisters, Sheila and Judy who were 7 and 9 years older, and two half-brothers, Chuck and Jon, who were 7 and 9 years younger. We grew up very close thanks mostly to our loving mother, Marvene. My father also remarried and I had a half-brother Vic and step-brother Ray from that side.

I was born in Myrtle Point at the nearest hospital, but we lived on Shelly Road in Coquille. I didn’t know much of what was happening, but my parents, Marvene and Alton (Al), split when I was four. I remember my Dad’s new friend had a son, Raymond, a year younger than me. He became my step-brother and, like the rest of my half siblings, we couldn’t be any closer or share more love, if full.

We spent a lot of time on Dean Street at my Grandmother Nonnie’s house. She was a wonderful, classic grandma. My sisters and cousins would sit around this cool U-shaped dinette in the kitchen while she baked cookies, serving them with tea in very tiny cups (milk and sugar mostly) and filling our world with love. The house was very active with uncles, aunts and cousins coming and going, and plenty of game being served in scrumptious dinners. I knew the smell of singed, duck pin feathers!

I caught a serious illness at that time involving a fever of the brain, I remember as mumpmengitus, and had to spend time in the hospital in Eugene, but came out ok (matter of opinion maybe?). Also remember wondering what the inside of a golf ball looked like, so cut one open (we had knives when young), and it exploded the internal paste under pressure into my eyes. Nasty, but lived. Mom backed over my friend’s leg with the car… don’t remember the result. He remained my friend.

My grandfather, Fred, owned a mill in Myrtle Point before I was born. Unfortunately, it burned down and was never rebuilt. But he had built the two story, Dean Street house. Grandpa died when I was just turning one or two, so I don’t remember him unfortunately, except for a vision of this gruff looking, but gentle, old man in a lounger watching the television (first on the block!) and seeing the NBC peacock come on before a colored show would start on the otherwise all black and white network. Grandpa watched boxing mostly, so Gillette commercials were common.

His close friend Albert rented a room in the house and was ‘Uncle Albert’ to us kids. A great guy to all of us, he had a cabin on the Rogue River near Gold Beach. All of us cousins were taught to fish at an early age. I have a newspaper clipping of my first salmon, a 17 pounder, caught at age six! I actually remember it. I was napping in the boat, when Nonnie and Albert woke me quickly… “you have a fish on!” And while I remember reeling it in, I am sure they helped a bit. We had a very nice life as kids.

Ashland Grade 1-2

We moved to Ashland for my grades 1 and 2. I was mascot on my older sister, Judy’s high school cheerleaders’ squad. I remember being terrified running onto the field in front of the football team one game. Our neighbor was the Shakespearean theater director and his same-age son and I would wander around backstage looking at the prop swords and lances. Our playground was the beautiful Lithia Park which even had a free, local animal zoo at that time. It was a mile from our house, but kids could roam freely in those days and we did all of the time. (The phrase “be back by dinner” was common) I remember there was a terrible forest fire that came into view from our house and threatened the park, but fortunately it was stopped before any city damage was done. My brother Chuck was born there.

My neighbor classmate had polio and she passed away at age seven. A confusing time for us.

The neighborhood kids had a treehouse in the madrone forest. One of the older guys talked us into bringing a bullet from our father’s hunting gear to the treehouse. I was in the second grade so not very smart yet. He used pliers to pull out the slug and dump the gun powder into a matchbox. He would put a little in a 22 shell and light it on fire with a resulting flame shooting up. Great entertainment! But as you might predict, the second one tipped over into the larger powder box and a burst of flame seemed to fill the treehouse for a split second. Of course, we were terrified, but nothing else caught on fire and no one was hurt, thank goodness. And we knew enough to be thankful we didn’t start a forest fire in the dry madrones. Lesson learned. When I came home for dinner, mom asked me what I had been doing today as she always did. And I repeated my usual “Oh, nothing”. But she did a double take this time and quickly got closer. “What did you do to your eyebrows?! They are gone!” …confessions followed.

Richland Grade 3-5

We moved to Richland for my 3rd to 5th grades, where my stepfather, Chuck, was principal at the high school. It is a beautiful valley with a population of 175, located on the backup waters of one of the Snake River dams on the Idaho border. It was an hour drive to the closest theater. There were twelve kids in my class. I was the drummer for the high school pep band at their games because there were no drummers their age. I remember we were hard on the local wildlife carrying bb guns, setting traps for Muskrats and harassing frogs. Probably why I later grew up with a deep love of our natural world, protecting our wilderness and wildlife. I had to repay my debt. Nonnie gave me her hunting rifle and Grandpa’s 22 rifle. I hunted my college years until shooting a trophy three-point buck. I mounted the horns in her honor, but put away the gun and bought a camera.

We built a snow fort one heavy snow year. All of my friends lived on ranches, so I would help them with chores so we could play sooner. We had to wear handkerchiefs over our mouths one early -20 degree morning loading silage on the wagon for the cows. My mother told the story of me running into the house to tell her the neighbor’s sheep’s belly had fallen out, after seeing my first post delivery. And something about incorrect terminology after helping castrate the calves.

Sheila’s boyfriend Dee loaned me a horse so I could ride with my friends. I would play the Indian on horseback riding at full gallop past the haystack where my buddies were hold up as the cowboys. One day it bucked me over the top of it’s head. I got back on and was thrown again. After walking her home we found out she was pregnant. Our local swimming hole in Eagle Creek was a couple hundred yards from our first house there. I remember I was alone in the pond and was peeing into the stream when I looked over my shoulder and saw a beaver standing upright not far away, looking at me. We both sort of did the ET reaction and screamed a little if only inside.

We would harass ground squirrels too. They were so curious that while they would run into their hole when you approached, they would pop up again enough to look around to see if you were gone. We would make a lasso out of string and quickly drape it around their hole, laying quietly at some distance. When they came out, we gently tugged and would have a squirrel on a leash for a short time. (sorry squirrels) My step-father hunted pheasants and bought a trained, English Pointer bird dog. Unfortunately, she would get car sick when he took her hunting so she wasn’t much good for the first half hour. I went on my first deer hunt on the back of my neighbor friend’s horse, following rather narrow trails along steep canyons on the Snake River. Never shot a deer, but had great hunter safety and cub scout training from local ranchers. Richland was a great place to live as a kid. Toughened this city boy a bit (if you can call Coquille and Ashland cities).

When we first arrived, I noticed all of my friends belonged to 4H, the animal-raising group. I wanted to be a part of their activities, so joined too. Of course, you had to have an animal, so I got a rabbit. The first meeting the leader had everyone introduce themselves and their animals. Everyone had cows, sheep or horses, so my “rabbit” just didn’t seem worthy. I didn’t go back, but soon found other ways to fit in fortunately.