Sunday School Picnics
During the single digit years of my youth, we lived at 3535 N.E. Mallory Avenue. Our neighbor next door, also on the Westside of the street, was the St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church, with its uniquely majestic golden dome. Although we were not members, I can recall hearing the music and singing that emanated from this church on Sundays; occasionally wander in to watch and listen to the service; and not understand what was being said, as only Russian was spoken. Today, this historic landmark is still an active church, with its unique golden dome; though, set apart by a different religion and name: Greater St. Stephen Missionary Baptist Church.
Across the street was another neighborhood landmark, the Albina Homestead School, with its entrance on the Southside of Beech Street, between Mallory and Garfield. In 1935 the school was renamed the Thomas A. Edison Six Year High School; and subsequently became the Portland Apprentice School from 1940 to 1959; then the Portland Public School’s Guidance and Counseling Center. After 96 years of serving the public, this historic structure succumbed to demolition in 2004.
The Church that we did attend was the German Congregational Evangelical Brethren Church, located on the Southwest corner of Mason Street and Garfield Avenue. The Church is still in use today, with different worshippers and name, Philadelphia Community Missionary Baptist Church. I can remember attending Sunday school classes in the basement; followed by Sunday services upstairs with our parents, where Reverend Graumann would give his sermons in both German and English. Back then, Sundays were always special, but not for us; because that was the day we were required to wear our Sunday best. This meant we had to stay presentable; and the most difficult for us, we were to be seen, and not heard.
It was during this period that I experienced the first of many Sunday school picnics. Looking back, this was quite an exciting event. Although I was too young to appreciate the effort, the logistics must have been challenging. Decisions had to be made; such as, where the picnic would be held. How many people would be attending? Who would provide the food? I do not remember whether each family brought their own food, or whether it was potluck. How many vehicles would be required for the adults? How many trucks would be required to transport the pre-teens and teens? I do not recall who provided the garbage trucks, but the names Traut, Krieger, Kniss, and Hahn come to mind.
I especially remember the freedom of my first ride in the open bed of the truck, without being aware of how clean it was. The interior was spotless! Only later did I realize how that came to be.
During one summer vacation, while in my teens, I had the opportunity to work on a garbage truck. After the last customer pickup, the truck was driven to the St. Johns dump, in North Portland, to unload the day’s collection of garbage. The load would be dumped, depending on its contents, at the St. John’s Landfill, on North City Dump Road and Columbia Boulevard, or across the street on the floor of the indoor City Incinerator. The incinerator worker would then push the garbage into a hole in the floor, above the flaming furnace, with a plow truck. In 1991, after 51 years of operation, the 238-acre Land Fill was closed. Today the St. John’s Landfill is covered, wherein the decomposing garbage is producing methane gas for commercial use. In 1981, after 38 years of operation, the City Incinerator was also closed. During the 1980s, the building became the Archives and Records Center for the City of Portland; and the chimney was removed in 1990. That 16-acre site, located at 9360 North Columbia Boulevard, is now Chimney Park.
After unloading the day’s garbage, the empty bed of the truck had to be cleaned. That was my job, at the Incinerator’s cleaning station. In addition to using a high-pressure water hose, I also had at my disposal a long handle brush. Not only was the interior of the bed washed, the entire truck was washed. I admired the garbage men’s pride when they proudly displayed their clean trucks, wherever they went; which also gave me an added sense of pride in my work.
On the Sunday of the picnic, everyone would assemble at the church. When we were ready to depart, we would get into our designated vehicles: The adults and smaller children into the cars, the pre-teens and teens into the open bed of the trucks. And . . . off we went!
The destination was Roamer’s Rest, about a mile south of King City, on the south side of the Tualatin River, immediately west of Highway 99 (SW Pacific Highway). The distance we drove was probably 20 to 25 miles. If you were to drive there today, by way of Interstate 5, that distance would be closer to 15 miles; and the place would be called, Roamer’s Rest RV Park.
Upon our arrival at Roamer’s Rest, which for me, seemed to take forever, the teens and adults unloaded the vehicles, set up the picnic tables, and made arrangements for the days sporting events, while I looked on with anticipation. There were ball games; foot races for girls and boys; gunnysack races, both single and in pairs. There were other events, too, but these were the most memorable. As for water sports, the Tualatin was a slow moving river; which allowed for rowboats and a foot-pedaled swan; and for those teens and adults who could swim well, a lifeguard-tended water slide, across the narrow river. For these lucky people, this was their preferred sport. How I envied them!
After a fun-filled work out by all, it came time to eat. There was an abundance of food: meats, cheeses, casseroles, fresh homemade breads and pastries, and that all time picnic favorite, watermelon. I mostly remember the homemade, mouth-watering salads: potato, cabbage and shrimp, and macaroni. On these picnics, no one went hungry; and everyone, young and old, had a festive time.
At the end of the day, which for me, seemed to go by too fast, the time came for all to help pack everything for our departure. The drive back to the church was also memorable. Most of us, in the bed of the truck, would be red and hot from being out in the sun all day. Even so, we soon developed a good method to cool down. We would stand up, with our hands on the front wall of the truck bed for support, and face the oncoming wind, which would blow across our face and through our hair. The faster the truck went, the cooler we would get.
After we got home, the excitement of the day continued to race through my mind. In fact, it was so intense; I do not remember how long I stayed awake, enjoying the mental images of my first Sunday school picnic. What an exhilarating day!
Another park, where we held our Sunday picnics, was Columbia Park, on North Lombard Street and Woolsey Avenue. This park was much larger than Roamer’s Rest. With 33 acres, the park provided enough spaces to accommodate many private groups; which meant, it was also more crowded and less personable. In addition to 28 picnic tables, the park had a swimming pool with lifeguards, horseshoe pits, a baseball and softball field, and tennis courts. With such features, even to this day, it would be difficult for a person not to appreciate and enjoy.
In later years, I often wondered why we had Sunday school picnics at Columbia Park, when Roamer’s Rest was so magnificently secluded, on a small, gently flowing river; and away from the city. It may just be coincidental, but being an optimistic person, I like to feel there may have been some remote connection. We do have a tendency to want to support our own neighborhood. In 1896, the City of Albina purchased a tract of wooded land for its first park, which ultimately became Columbia Park. However, the development of the park did not begin until 1909, after the City of Albina had consolidated with the City of Portland, in 1891. When it was completed, the expansive park was meant to rival Washington Park, by emulating the design of a famous park in Berlin, Germany. We do live in a small world!
Across the street was another neighborhood landmark, the Albina Homestead School, with its entrance on the Southside of Beech Street, between Mallory and Garfield. In 1935 the school was renamed the Thomas A. Edison Six Year High School; and subsequently became the Portland Apprentice School from 1940 to 1959; then the Portland Public School’s Guidance and Counseling Center. After 96 years of serving the public, this historic structure succumbed to demolition in 2004.
The Church that we did attend was the German Congregational Evangelical Brethren Church, located on the Southwest corner of Mason Street and Garfield Avenue. The Church is still in use today, with different worshippers and name, Philadelphia Community Missionary Baptist Church. I can remember attending Sunday school classes in the basement; followed by Sunday services upstairs with our parents, where Reverend Graumann would give his sermons in both German and English. Back then, Sundays were always special, but not for us; because that was the day we were required to wear our Sunday best. This meant we had to stay presentable; and the most difficult for us, we were to be seen, and not heard.
It was during this period that I experienced the first of many Sunday school picnics. Looking back, this was quite an exciting event. Although I was too young to appreciate the effort, the logistics must have been challenging. Decisions had to be made; such as, where the picnic would be held. How many people would be attending? Who would provide the food? I do not remember whether each family brought their own food, or whether it was potluck. How many vehicles would be required for the adults? How many trucks would be required to transport the pre-teens and teens? I do not recall who provided the garbage trucks, but the names Traut, Krieger, Kniss, and Hahn come to mind.
I especially remember the freedom of my first ride in the open bed of the truck, without being aware of how clean it was. The interior was spotless! Only later did I realize how that came to be.
During one summer vacation, while in my teens, I had the opportunity to work on a garbage truck. After the last customer pickup, the truck was driven to the St. Johns dump, in North Portland, to unload the day’s collection of garbage. The load would be dumped, depending on its contents, at the St. John’s Landfill, on North City Dump Road and Columbia Boulevard, or across the street on the floor of the indoor City Incinerator. The incinerator worker would then push the garbage into a hole in the floor, above the flaming furnace, with a plow truck. In 1991, after 51 years of operation, the 238-acre Land Fill was closed. Today the St. John’s Landfill is covered, wherein the decomposing garbage is producing methane gas for commercial use. In 1981, after 38 years of operation, the City Incinerator was also closed. During the 1980s, the building became the Archives and Records Center for the City of Portland; and the chimney was removed in 1990. That 16-acre site, located at 9360 North Columbia Boulevard, is now Chimney Park.
After unloading the day’s garbage, the empty bed of the truck had to be cleaned. That was my job, at the Incinerator’s cleaning station. In addition to using a high-pressure water hose, I also had at my disposal a long handle brush. Not only was the interior of the bed washed, the entire truck was washed. I admired the garbage men’s pride when they proudly displayed their clean trucks, wherever they went; which also gave me an added sense of pride in my work.
On the Sunday of the picnic, everyone would assemble at the church. When we were ready to depart, we would get into our designated vehicles: The adults and smaller children into the cars, the pre-teens and teens into the open bed of the trucks. And . . . off we went!
The destination was Roamer’s Rest, about a mile south of King City, on the south side of the Tualatin River, immediately west of Highway 99 (SW Pacific Highway). The distance we drove was probably 20 to 25 miles. If you were to drive there today, by way of Interstate 5, that distance would be closer to 15 miles; and the place would be called, Roamer’s Rest RV Park.
Upon our arrival at Roamer’s Rest, which for me, seemed to take forever, the teens and adults unloaded the vehicles, set up the picnic tables, and made arrangements for the days sporting events, while I looked on with anticipation. There were ball games; foot races for girls and boys; gunnysack races, both single and in pairs. There were other events, too, but these were the most memorable. As for water sports, the Tualatin was a slow moving river; which allowed for rowboats and a foot-pedaled swan; and for those teens and adults who could swim well, a lifeguard-tended water slide, across the narrow river. For these lucky people, this was their preferred sport. How I envied them!
After a fun-filled work out by all, it came time to eat. There was an abundance of food: meats, cheeses, casseroles, fresh homemade breads and pastries, and that all time picnic favorite, watermelon. I mostly remember the homemade, mouth-watering salads: potato, cabbage and shrimp, and macaroni. On these picnics, no one went hungry; and everyone, young and old, had a festive time.
At the end of the day, which for me, seemed to go by too fast, the time came for all to help pack everything for our departure. The drive back to the church was also memorable. Most of us, in the bed of the truck, would be red and hot from being out in the sun all day. Even so, we soon developed a good method to cool down. We would stand up, with our hands on the front wall of the truck bed for support, and face the oncoming wind, which would blow across our face and through our hair. The faster the truck went, the cooler we would get.
After we got home, the excitement of the day continued to race through my mind. In fact, it was so intense; I do not remember how long I stayed awake, enjoying the mental images of my first Sunday school picnic. What an exhilarating day!
Another park, where we held our Sunday picnics, was Columbia Park, on North Lombard Street and Woolsey Avenue. This park was much larger than Roamer’s Rest. With 33 acres, the park provided enough spaces to accommodate many private groups; which meant, it was also more crowded and less personable. In addition to 28 picnic tables, the park had a swimming pool with lifeguards, horseshoe pits, a baseball and softball field, and tennis courts. With such features, even to this day, it would be difficult for a person not to appreciate and enjoy.
In later years, I often wondered why we had Sunday school picnics at Columbia Park, when Roamer’s Rest was so magnificently secluded, on a small, gently flowing river; and away from the city. It may just be coincidental, but being an optimistic person, I like to feel there may have been some remote connection. We do have a tendency to want to support our own neighborhood. In 1896, the City of Albina purchased a tract of wooded land for its first park, which ultimately became Columbia Park. However, the development of the park did not begin until 1909, after the City of Albina had consolidated with the City of Portland, in 1891. When it was completed, the expansive park was meant to rival Washington Park, by emulating the design of a famous park in Berlin, Germany. We do live in a small world!
Source
Story contributed by Melvin W. Cook. November 5, 2012
Last updated November 12, 2016