People > Our People > Heinrich and Katherine Schmunk
Heinrich and Katherine Schmunk
My father, whose name is Heinrich Schmunk, was recorded on the steamship Verdi manifest as Heinrich Schmonk, age 21, and my mother as Katerine Schmonk, age 21. They arrived on April 6, 1908, sailing from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Their ages were recorded incorrectly. I recall Mom saying she was 2 years younger than Dad. My father was from the village of Rosenberg, Russia.
My Uncle Jake and Aunt Julia had a dairy on Sauvie Island just out of Portland on Highway 30. We moved into Portland when I was about 2 years old. My brother Harold was a baby and had our shepherd dog Betty guarding his buggy on our wonderful covered porch. The Schmunk's then became city folks living on NE 15th and Prescott Street.
On Sundays, we drove out to Sauvie's Island and spent the day with the Dietz family. How our whole family, crowded in our 1927 Chrysler, loved to stop in St. Johns to visit the miniature railroad that ran around the grounds of the fire station just before the bridge, then drive out across the beautiful St. John's bridge through Linnton, then to Burlington, where we turned onto the wooden ramp that led down to the ferry that crossed the Willamette River at that point. I recall how scary it was for me to think that we might not get onto the ferry before it started moving or before the ferryman had fastened the cable across the end, and we might be hanging on or rolling back off. I was always glad when we were in the middle on one or the other side and not the first or last! Then, when the ferryman secured the rope at the shore and untied the cable on the ferry onto the other side, our car would lurch down off, then up the ramp to the other side onto the Island. As I recall, their farm was just a little distance uphill from the ferry crossing.
A little anecdote: It was at the farm on those Sundays that, for some reason, the men and some boys would walk down to the water's edge and jump onto the log rafts tied at that place and talk! One Sunday, I walked down there too. It must have been cold since I had on a Harris tweed coat and my Oscar-made wooden shoes. Of course, Daddy and the other men were already out on the raft. So, I decided to jump out and join them. I forgot that my legs were short! I gave a big lurch, but it wasn't big enough, and I found myself in the river. Daddy looked down and saw this long red hair floating on the top of the water. He reached down, grabbed my hair, and pulled me out of the water and onto the raft. I never lost my wooden shoes! Needless to say, when I went sloshing back up the hill to their farmhouse, I was shuddering and shaking in my cold, wet clothing.
"What happened to you?" my horrified mother asked when she heard the story. "If Daddy had not grabbed you at that moment," she reminded me, "you could have been pulled under the rafts by the river's current!" Aunt Julia got me some of cousin Dorothy's clothes. We were the same age, and I sat by their wood stove the rest of our time there!
We loved it out there, the boys going one way and the girls going another. We loved to climb up into the hayloft to look for the chicken's eggs and just enjoyed the cats waiting for their squirt of warm milk from the cows during milking time! What wonderful muddy times! Daddy and Uncle Jake truly enjoyed their times together, I remember. When Grandma Born was present, I remember she had to always have Alka Selzer. Maybe that's where I got my tender stomach!!!
My Uncle Jake and Aunt Julia had a dairy on Sauvie Island just out of Portland on Highway 30. We moved into Portland when I was about 2 years old. My brother Harold was a baby and had our shepherd dog Betty guarding his buggy on our wonderful covered porch. The Schmunk's then became city folks living on NE 15th and Prescott Street.
On Sundays, we drove out to Sauvie's Island and spent the day with the Dietz family. How our whole family, crowded in our 1927 Chrysler, loved to stop in St. Johns to visit the miniature railroad that ran around the grounds of the fire station just before the bridge, then drive out across the beautiful St. John's bridge through Linnton, then to Burlington, where we turned onto the wooden ramp that led down to the ferry that crossed the Willamette River at that point. I recall how scary it was for me to think that we might not get onto the ferry before it started moving or before the ferryman had fastened the cable across the end, and we might be hanging on or rolling back off. I was always glad when we were in the middle on one or the other side and not the first or last! Then, when the ferryman secured the rope at the shore and untied the cable on the ferry onto the other side, our car would lurch down off, then up the ramp to the other side onto the Island. As I recall, their farm was just a little distance uphill from the ferry crossing.
A little anecdote: It was at the farm on those Sundays that, for some reason, the men and some boys would walk down to the water's edge and jump onto the log rafts tied at that place and talk! One Sunday, I walked down there too. It must have been cold since I had on a Harris tweed coat and my Oscar-made wooden shoes. Of course, Daddy and the other men were already out on the raft. So, I decided to jump out and join them. I forgot that my legs were short! I gave a big lurch, but it wasn't big enough, and I found myself in the river. Daddy looked down and saw this long red hair floating on the top of the water. He reached down, grabbed my hair, and pulled me out of the water and onto the raft. I never lost my wooden shoes! Needless to say, when I went sloshing back up the hill to their farmhouse, I was shuddering and shaking in my cold, wet clothing.
"What happened to you?" my horrified mother asked when she heard the story. "If Daddy had not grabbed you at that moment," she reminded me, "you could have been pulled under the rafts by the river's current!" Aunt Julia got me some of cousin Dorothy's clothes. We were the same age, and I sat by their wood stove the rest of our time there!
We loved it out there, the boys going one way and the girls going another. We loved to climb up into the hayloft to look for the chicken's eggs and just enjoyed the cats waiting for their squirt of warm milk from the cows during milking time! What wonderful muddy times! Daddy and Uncle Jake truly enjoyed their times together, I remember. When Grandma Born was present, I remember she had to always have Alka Selzer. Maybe that's where I got my tender stomach!!!
Sources
Story written by Florence Bauer on May 27, 2002.
Last updated October 26, 2023