Mount Hood Archives - Mount Hood History

Scandal in Cherryville: The Man Who Guarded a Grave

Death, Dispute, and a Grave Watch in the Foothills of Mount Hood

A Scandal in Cherryville : The Friel Drama of 1911

In the summer of 1911, the Friel case in Cherryville Oregon became one of the most disturbing stories ever told from the Mount Hood foothills. A suspicious death, a hurried marriage, a missing medicine bottle, and an armed grave watch pushed a grieving family to the brink of collapse. The newspapers followed it all with fascination, and more than a hundred years later, the story still echoes through the woods that surround Cherryville, although this scandal in Cherryville was almost forgotten.

From Hotelkeeper to Accused Widower

John T. Friel had once operated the Cherryville Hotel on the Barlow Road to Mount Hood Oregon, and was well-known in the area. By 1911, he was a wealthy rancher living on his land with his wife Phoebe, who had been in failing health for years. In January of that year, a nurse named Luella Wilson arrived from Portland to care for Phoebe during what would be the last weeks of her life. On February 13, Phoebe died and was buried in the Cherryville Cemetery. Less than three months later, John Friel married the nurse.

Scandal in Cherryville — Cherryville Hotel, Cherryville Oregon

Seven Children, One Loaded Rifle

That marriage triggered something fierce. Friel’s seven adult children—already uneasy about their stepmother—began to suspect foul play. They believed Phoebe’s death may not have been natural. They believed their new stepmother had married their father for his land and money. Most of all, they believed something had to be done.

John Friel disagreed. In fact, he made it physically impossible for anyone to disturb the grave. Armed with a rifle, he began standing guard at his late wife’s grave every night. He wrote to the sheriff that he feared someone might try to dig up the body in secret—or worse, inject poison into the corpse to frame him.

Accusations and Legal Threats

Meanwhile, his children pressed forward. Mrs. Thomas Kirby, one of Phoebe’s daughters, told reporters, “Five thousand injunctions will not prevent us from digging up the body and having the cause of death found.” The family claimed Luella Wilson wasn’t even a trained nurse but a housekeeper hired for general housework. They said she destroyed the bottle of medicine Phoebe had been taking. When they asked to see it, she claimed she had wrapped it up and misplaced it—then later, that she had smashed all the bottles in the house.

When the district attorney and coroner declined to act without funding, the family threatened to do it themselves. That’s when John Friel filed for a restraining order and began preparing a slander lawsuit against all seven of his children—and their spouses.

A Grave Is Opened, But the Case Closes

Eventually, the exhumation was approved. On August 16, Phoebe’s body was removed from the Cherryville Cemetery under official supervision. The coroner of Multnomah County and a Portland physician were present. Friel and Luella agreed to the examination, as long as it was lawful and properly overseen.

No charges were filed. No results were ever made public. If there was poison in Phoebe’s body, it was never proven. If there was a motive for murder, it never made it to court. The Friel case simply faded from the papers and slipped into memory.

A Story That Still Haunts the Mount Hood Corridor

Today, the town of Cherryville is no longer a town at all. The old hotel is gone. The cemetery is still there, quiet and mostly forgotten. But for those who come across the old newspaper articles, the Friel case remains one of the most bizarre and unsettling chapters in the story of the Mount Hood corridor.

A rifle. A grave. A family torn apart. And questions that have never been fully answered.

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Nettie Connett: The Woman Who Became a Legend

An unforgettable figure in the history of Sandy Oregon

A logger, moonshiner, midwife, and a mountain force—Nettie Connett lived by her own rules

In the timbered hills near Sandy, Oregon, few names live on like Nettie Connett. Born March 5, 1880, in Independence, Oregon, Nettie Loraine Connett would grow into one of the most unforgettable figures in Clackamas County history. From restaurant operator to logger, from convicted moonshiner to community benefactor, her life defied expectations at every turn.

By the age of 18, she had already left a failed marriage behind and moved to Portland with her newborn child and eighty dollars in her purse. She worked her way up from dairymaid to waitress, eventually running several restaurants and a hotel. But in 1910, she left the city behind for good.

Nettie Connett could handle an axe, a crosscut saw, or a team of logging horses as well as any man. Timber workers respected her strength, her business sense, and her refusal to be underestimated.

That year, she sold her hotel and moved to the Aims district near Bull Run. Nettie homesteaded 80 acres of timberland and threw herself into the work. Over the next forty years, she raised cattle, cut fence posts and telephone poles, sold timber, and logged saw logs for the mills. At one point, she held title to over 1,000 acres of land. Known for wearing men’s clothing—jeans, boots, a wool shirt, and a red hunting hat—she was rarely mistaken for anyone else.

Moonshine and a Federal Conviction

During the early 1920s, Prohibition-era agents raided her Bull Run property and uncovered one of the most elaborate illegal stills in Oregon. Hidden in a hand-dug cave, the setup included a piped-in water source concealed inside hollow logs. Nettie denied involvement, claiming the still had been built without her knowledge.

Even so, her hogs had been seen staggering around after eating the mash. A hired hand testified about the operation in detail, and Nettie became the first woman in Oregon convicted of moonshining. She was fined $500 and sentenced to six months in jail. Later, she faced a second indictment, but returned to her land unfazed. As she put it, “I worked, you know. I always worked.”

Bear Skins and Barstools

Despite—or maybe because of—her reputation, Nettie became a well-known figure in Sandy. She drove her green Studebaker pickup into town often, sometimes with a fresh kill in the back. Bears, bobcats, coyotes, and deer were regular prizes. Locals say she was often the first to return with a buck on opening day of hunting season.

Irene’s Tavern in Sandy served as her unofficial office. Most mornings, she would stop in for a beer or a 7-Up, joke with the loggers, and sometimes stand on her head on a barstool for a laugh. Nettie cursed like a logger and carried herself with absolute confidence. However, underneath that tough exterior, she cared deeply for others.

She loaned money to friends without asking for repayment. In mountain cabins, she delivered babies as a midwife. She even co-founded the Nettie Connett Medical Care Foundation with Dr. Walter Noehren to support health care for the elderly. Nettie donated $500 of her own money to help start the fund.

A Mountain Life, Remembered

Even into her eighties, Nettie insisted on driving herself. But in 1964, she pulled out onto Proctor Boulevard and collided with a logging truck. After five months in a Portland nursing home, she passed away on October 19, 1964, at the age of 84.

Nettie was buried at Cliffside Cemetery in Sandy. She was survived by her son W.R. Dempsey, one grandchild, two great-grandchildren, and a sister. By the time of her death, her name had already become local legend.

Today, Sandy honors her with Nettie Connett Drive. It’s a fitting tribute for a woman who lived boldly and left her mark. As one local said, “When the Lord made her, he just threw away the mold.”

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The Legendary Mrs. Pierce: She Killed a Bear With Her Hoe

A Strong Mountain Woman

Pioneer Grit And An Unforgettable Bear Story

I’ve spent a lot of time talking with old-timers and the family members of folks who’ve lived up here in the Mountain Community for years. In one or two conversations, I’d heard tell of a woman who gained local notoriety for killing a bear that invaded her space with a garden hoe. That’s right—a woman killed a bear with a hoe. At the time, I didn’t know much more about her—but I would later learn that her name was Mrs. Eliza A. Pierce, and her story is the stuff of mountain legend. Around here, she’s best remembered as the legendary Mrs. Pierce.

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce and Her Mountain Homestead

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce was no ordinary pioneer. In the early 1900s, she made her home at the junction of the Sandy and Zigzag Rivers near Mount Hood, Oregon. At over 60 years old, she arrived with almost nothing but determination and a 10-acre tract of untamed land in the area known as Sharon Springs.

What followed is hard to imagine. She built her own home, leveled her cabin site with a wheelbarrow, and filled it with earth carried from the upper slope of her property. She constructed a stone foundation by hand, built fences from cedar logs she split herself, and laid out a productive farm with strawberries, potatoes, pigs, goats, and a garden full of flowers—including 125 rose bushes she carefully watered with buckets hauled from a spring.

In later years, she added a springhouse, a chicken coop, and even a plank sidewalk to make water-carrying easier. She engineered drainage channels to redirect flooding and built a potato house to store her harvests through the mountain winters. Her efforts transformed the landscape, and by all accounts, she did every bit of it herself.

A Bear, a Hoe, and a Moment That Became Legend

One spring morning, a black bear chased her neighbor, Mr. Hutchinson, from his nearby cabin. The bear wandered into Mrs. Pierce’s yard while she worked in her garden. Without a rifle nearby, she grabbed her hoe and stood her ground—fighting off and killing the bear before help arrived.

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce didn’t just survive that encounter—she became famous for it. The story was reported in multiple Oregon newspapers. One article even joked that the old standard of “a good dog and a trusty rifle” was no longer necessary, since “everyone can afford a hoe, and bears are plentiful.”

Grit, Heart, and Generosity

Even without the bear story, Mrs. Pierce was remarkable. She lived alone not out of necessity, but by choice. Though she had adult children and money invested in Portland, she stayed on her land because she loved the forest and the work. She said she was “in love with nature” and wanted to do things for herself.

Neighbors admired her independence, but also her generosity. When someone fell ill nearby, she’d be the one to bring remedies. When others were in trouble, she offered help. In one instance, two young men offered to carry her heavy sack of supplies a mile from the road. She accepted the help—but later remarked, only half-jokingly, that she could’ve spanked both of them.

Mrs. Pierce also crafted and sold fine baskets and paintings. And in the quietest, most touching detail of all, she grew flowers to take to her late husband’s grave—making time for tenderness even in the hardest of lives.

Sharon Springs and the Changing Mountain

The land around Mrs. Pierce’s homestead was once part of the Sharon Springs tract, originally owned by W.R. McGarry. She was one of many who purchased land in this area and transformed it into something livable. Other settlers followed—among them Archibald and Nettie Howard, who built the nearby Mount Hood Hotel, and summer residents like the Vanes and the Baileys.

While others relied on hired help to develop their properties, Mrs. Pierce did the work with her own hands. Her land rose in value because of what she built, not what she bought. At one time, her 10-acre tract was valued at $25 per acre. Within a few years, land in the area was selling for $100 or more.

Why The Legendary Mrs. Pierce Still Matters

Even in her own time, The Legendary Mrs. Pierce was admired across Oregon. A 1912 newspaper feature titled “Woman’s Will vs. Nature’s Wilderness” told her story in poetic detail—describing her farm as a triumph of willpower over wildness. Her life was a blend of hard labor and quiet dignity, built not for show, but for survival and meaning.

She didn’t just live in the Mount Hood wilderness—she mastered it. She dug it, planted it, protected it, and made it her own. When we think of pioneers, we often think of names on roads or plaques. But Mrs. Pierce left something just as lasting: a story of what it means to be strong, self-reliant, and deeply rooted in place.

Today, her name might not be on any maps. But ask around long enough, and someone will remember. The woman who killed a bear with a hoe.

For Further Reading

If you’re interested in the people and places that shaped the Mount Hood corridor during Mrs. Pierce’s time, here are a few more stories from the archive:

Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs
Learn about the short-lived hotel that once stood near Mrs. Pierce’s land along the Sandy River.
The Rhododendron Inn
Another historic stop along the Mount Hood Highway, with ties to early settlers in the Zigzag area.
Tawney’s Mountain Home
A popular early resort not far from where Mrs. Pierce farmed and built her homestead.
The Modern Barlow Trail Road
A look at the historic immigrant route that evolved into the highway passing just below Sharon Springs.
One of Mrs Pierces neighbors
Dr William DeVany – Mt Hood’s Buffalo Bill

Henry and Fred Steiner Deaths in the Mount Hood Forest

A Loss on The Mountain: The Deaths of Henry and Fred Steiner

Tragedy Beneath the Tall Trees

Henry Steiner was known throughout the Mount Hood region as a master builder of log homes. He and his wife, Mollie, raised their family in Brightwood, where Henry built dozens of rustic cabins that still stand today. His sons, including Fred, learned the trade from him and often worked alongside him. The Henry and Fred Steiner deaths in 1953 would mark one of the darkest moments in the community’s history, but by then, the “Steiner cabin” had already become a local hallmark of hand-built timber construction—steep-roofed, river-stone anchored, and shaped by hand rather than machine.

In the spring of 1953, the Henry and Fred Steiner deaths cast a long shadow over the Mount Hood community. Henry, a master cabin builder, vanished into the forest near Brightwood. Days later, his son Fred—who had traveled north from California to help find him—drowned in the river during the search. Their story is one of family, legacy, and quiet tragedy in the same forests where the cabins they built still stand.

The Disappearance of Henry Steiner

On Tuesday, April 7, 75-year-old Henry Steiner vanished from the wooded land near his home in Brightwood, Oregon. Though elderly, he remained active and independent. At first it was thought that he left to simply walk the forest trails he knew so well. When he failed to return, concern grew quickly.

State police, Clackamas County deputies, U.S. Forest Service crews, and Brightwood locals mounted a widespread search across the steep, forested terrain near Mount Hood. By Thursday, they had ruled out the possibility that he had taken a bus to visit family. All signs pointed to something having gone wrong in the woods.

Fred Steiner’s Search and Sacrifice

Fred Arthur Steiner, age 39, was working as a logger in Eureka, California when he learned of his father’s disappearance. He returned home to Brightwood to help with the search.

On Saturday, April 11, Fred set out with his brothers to search along the Sandy and Salmon Rivers. He entered the fast-moving water in a rubber life raft, with a rope attached to shore for safety. As he reached the confluence near Salmon River, the raft overturned in the rough current.

Fred could not swim, and despite the rope, he was swept downstream nearly a mile. Witnesses, including his brother John Steiner and brother-in-law Pat Carey, could do nothing. Cliff Finnell of Brightwood recovered Fred from the water after roughly 20 minutes. The Sandy Fire Department tried to revive him using an inhalator. He was rushed to Providence Hospital in Portland, where he was pronounced dead on arrival.

Discovery of Henry Steiner’s Body

Three weeks later, on Sunday, April 26, Henry Steiner’s body was discovered along Hackett Creek, about 1½ miles northeast of Brightwood. Two people—Otto Laur of Brightwood and Lynn Fuller of Portland—were inspecting Fuller’s summer cabin when they came across the scene.

Henry had apparently sat down to rest on a stump, perhaps fatigued or disoriented, and fallen backward. His cane was still propped against the stump when his body was found. The Clackamas County Coroner, Ray Rilance, reported no sign of foul play. The cause of death was assumed to be a heart attack. His body was taken to the Holman, Hankins & Rilance Funeral Home in Oregon City.

Remembering the Henry and Fred Steiner Deaths

Henry Steiner was more than a builder—he was an artist in wood and stone. His cabins, known today as Steiner Cabins, grace the slopes of Mount Hood with steep-pitched roofs, peeled-logs, arched doorways, Sunray decoration above the front door, and basalt fireplaces pulled from local creeks or built by local stonemason George Pinner. He blended Old World technique with Northwest sensibility.

Fred, a logger by trade, shared his father’s connection to the forest and deep sense of family. He died doing what many hope they would have the strength to do—trying to bring a loved one home.

The Henry and Fred Steiner deaths marked one of the most tragic chapters in the history of the Mount Hood corridor. But the cabins still stand, warmed by fires in hearths they built, nestled in groves they once walked. And in those woods, their legacy quietly remains.

Mount Hood Auto Stages: From Rugged Roads to Modern Highways

The Rise and Fall of Primitive Travel on the Old Barlow Road

The Early Days of the Mount Hood Auto Stages

In the early 20th century, long before travelers zipped up Highway 26 to the ski lifts and resorts of Mount Hood, the trip to the mountain was rugged and uncertain. The road, built on the bones of the old Barlow Trail, was steep, narrow, and either muddy or dusty depending on the season. For those without their own means of transportation—and even for those who did—reliable travel meant trusting the early Mount Hood auto stages and their legendary drivers who knew every twist, rut, and washout of the mountain road.

Olinger Stages to Mount Hood. — Olinger Stages to Mount Hood

The Route to the Mountain

Before the 1880s, travelers followed the original Barlow Trail, carved out by immigrant wagon trains in the 1840s to the 1860’s. This immigrant trail came from Central Oregon and passed over Mount Hood’s southern shoulder. The route took travelers through the area that we know today on the south side of Mount Hood. Coming down from the mountain the route followed the north side of the Zigzag River and then crossed the Sandy River to the north side and through what we now know as Marmot. This remained the primary route until settlement increased east of Sandy.

In the 1880s, a new south side road connected Sandy to Government Camp by following the south bank of the Sandy River. This alternative offered gentler grades, primitive but useful bridges creating more reliable access. Consequently, it soon became the main road to and from the mountain. Meanwhile, the Marmot Road continued as a scenic alternate, especially for travelers heading to Aschoff’s Mountain Home.

The primary route—used by both stagecoaches and auto stages—passed through Sandy, Cherryville, Brightwood, Welches, Zigzag, Rhododendron, and Government Camp. Notable stops included the Cherryville Hotel, Welch’s Hotel, Tawney’s and the Rhododendron Inn, and others.

Mount Hood Auto Stages - Rhododendron Inn — The Rhododendron Inn

The Stage Lines and Their Drivers

Initially, travelers relied on horse-drawn stages operated by local residents. Joe Meinig and Walter Ziegler were among the best-known drivers in those early days. However, as the road improved and mountain tourism grew, motorized stages entered the picture.

By the 1910s, auto stages had largely replaced horse-drawn wagons. Bob Elliott, a Sandy garage owner, led the way with one of the first regular lines to Government Camp. His rugged fleet of Pierce-Arrows, Cadillacs, and White touring cars came equipped with chains, spare tires, and tools for inevitable roadside repairs.

One of the most prominent operations was Reliance Mount Hood Stages. They offered daily trips from Portland’s eastside waterfront and coordinated with nearly every lodging stop along the route. Their Touring Cars became a familiar sight climbing the dusty grades to Rhododendron and beyond.

Among the legendary drivers was Dr. Ivan M. Wooley. His memoir, Off to Mt. Hood – An Auto Biography Of The Old Road, preserves vivid recollections of the people, places, and perils of early auto stage travel. His storytelling has given us one of the richest surviving records of this vanished era.

Ivan Woolley Stuck on the Road to Mount Hood

Hard Roads and Gritty Travel

Despite the switch from horses to horsepower, travel remained difficult. The roads were merely widened wagon paths. On steep hills like Laurel Hill and McIntyre Hill, passengers often had to walk. The latter, near Brightwood, posed such a challenge that hotelier John McIntyre charged motorists a fee to haul their cars up the grade with his horses. Eventually, widening the road, regrading the hills and decreasing the grades helped. Still, early autos struggled.

Drivers had to wear many hats: mechanic, navigator, and even peacemaker. They fixed broken axles, crossed flooded creeks, and comforted uneasy passengers. Some vehicles towed freight. Others had canvas tops for sun and rain. The trip could last all day, but for many, that was part of the fun.

Mount Hood Auto Stages — Broke down in Government Camp

Mountain Tourism and the Resorts That Made It Possible

The auto stages helped turn Mount Hood into a major Oregon destination. Easier access drew tourists eager to escape city heat or enjoy snowy slopes. Resorts like Welch’s Ranch, Arrah Wanna Lodge, Tawney’s Mountain Home, and the Rhododendron Inn thrived. They offered lodging, camping, hearty meals, hunting, fishing, hiking, dances and community bonfires. Most worked directly with stage lines, ensuring guests could be dropped off at their doorsteps. Back then, the journey, the lodging, and the scenery created a complete experience.

The Automobile Takes Over

By the mid-1920s, personal automobiles had changed everything. Tourists no longer needed to reserve stage seats. They could drive, stop where they pleased, and enjoy more freedom. Ironically, the new Mount Hood Loop Highway—built to improve access—also ended the era of the auto stage. Independence had arrived.

The End of the Line for The Mount Hood Auto Stages

In 1923, the Mount Hood Loop Highway was completed, dramatically altering travel to the mountain. With the addition of a road to Hood River on the east side, the full loop was in place.

As roads improved and cars became more dependable, scheduled auto stages became obsolete. Tourists drove themselves, and although the mountain resorts endured, the days of colorful drivers and mechanical struggles quietly faded away.

Love Mount Hood History?

Discover more local stories, rare photos, and forgotten places:

Historic Photos
Mount Hood Pioneers
Welches & Rhododendron
Barlow Road Stories
Lost Resorts & Landmarks

Follow the trails. Meet the people. Uncover the past.

Susette Franzetti Rhododendron Oregon – Pioneer Innkeeper

Susette Franzetti Rhododendron Oregon – Pioneer of Hospitality

From the Swiss Alps to Oregon’s Mount Hood

Before Rhododendron, Oregon, became a known mountain getaway, Susette Franzetti helped build its identity. A Swiss hotelier with European training, she transformed the area with hospitality, real estate, and resilience. Ultimately, the story of Susette Franzetti Rhododendron Oregon is one of independence and quiet determination.

A Lifelong Passion for Hospitality

Susette Franzetti was born in 1879 near Lake Constance, Switzerland. After graduating high school, she studied French in Geneva and began training in hotels across Lugano, London, the Italian Riviera, and Corsica. She spoke seven languages and worked in the front office, purchasing, and guest services.

“You can’t be a successful resort keeper unless you really have in your heart the spirit of hospitality,” she once said.

Starting a New Life in America

In 1905, Susette immigrated to the United States. She married Emil Franzetti, a renowned European chef, and together they lived in New York, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C. By 1909, they had settled in Portland, Oregon, where Emil became the head chef at The Quelle.

They were a powerhouse pair—Emil in the kitchen, Susette handling the business side.

Managing the Rhododendron Inn Alone

In 1911, the Franzettis purchased the Rhododendron Inn, originally developed by Portland’s former mayor, Henry S. Rowe. The 160-acre property quickly became a favorite stop for travelers and skiers.

Tragedy struck in 1916 when Emil died in an automobile accident. Even so, Susette carried on. She ran the inn alone for seven years, continuing to serve guests and manage operations.

The Woman Who Helped Build Rhododendron

In 1923, Susette sold the Rhododendron Inn, but she didn’t slow down. She subdivided her land, built and sold 36 cottages, and helped shape what would become the town of Rhododendron. As a result, her sharp business sense and reputation for fairness left a lasting mark on the area.

In 1933, she said:

“I had 150 acres here, which I subdivided and sold in tracts and lots. I have built and sold 36 cottages here. Two-thirds of my property is already sold.”

Suitcases and Zeppelins: A Life of Travel

Despite living in the forest, Susette never stopped exploring. In 1925, she traveled to Europe via the Panama Canal. Four years later, she began a 16-month world tour, which included a Graf Zeppelin flight over England. Then in 1937, she boarded a ship in Portland bound for Naples to reunite with her brother from Switzerland.

Her love for travel and learning never faded.

Final Years and an Unseen Legacy

Susette spent her final years at Willamette Manor Convalescent Center, where she lived from 1957 until her death in 1972 at the age of 93. Her ashes were returned to her hometown of Romanshorn, Switzerland.

Although she left no surviving family, her influence still echoes through the cabins and lots she developed. To this day, her story is inseparable from the history of Rhododendron, Oregon.

Susette Franzetti’s Enduring Spirit

Few people did more to shape the look and spirit of early Rhododendron than Susette Franzetti. With her world-class hospitality background and independent spirit, she built a life rooted in generosity, vision, and perseverance.

The next time you walk the trails or pass through Rhododendron, picture a woman who once ran the inn, subdivided the land, and brought global perspective to a quiet corner of Oregon’s mountains.

Emil Franzetti Rhododendron Inn – Mount Hood’s Gourmet Chef

The Culinary Legacy of Emil Franzetti

The Chef Who Brought Fine Dining to the Forest

Before ski resorts dotted the highway and travelers packed the trailheads, Emil Franzetti of the Rhododendron Inn brought elegance and fine cuisine to Oregon’s Mount Hood region. He helped transform the rugged wilderness into a mountain destination known for hospitality and good food.

At a time when most mountain lodging focused on bare essentials, Emil introduced elegance and culinary sophistication to a rugged frontier. He made people feel like honored guests, even in the Oregon woods.

From the Italian Lakes to Royal Kitchens

Emil was born near the Italian lakes and trained in Switzerland. He built a world-class culinary career, cooking in Corsica, London, and along the Italian Riviera. His expertise earned him the prestigious role of chef to the King of Italy, a rare honor that spoke volumes about his talent.

Portland, Crawfish, and a New Path to the Mountain

In 1905, Emil moved to the United States and married Susette, a hospitality professional he had met in Geneva. Together, they lived in New York, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C., where Emil worked at high-profile hotels, including the New Willard.

They eventually moved to Portland, Oregon. There, Emil became head chef at The Quelle, a restaurant celebrated for its crawfish cooked in wine. The Quelle was more than a restaurant—it was a culinary landmark. Emil’s role as head chef helped shape Portland’s fine dining scene. He spent four years there before he left for the little mountain community of Rhododendron.

Emil Franzetti Rhododendron Inn — Rhododendron Inn Annex

Rhododendron Inn Becomes a Culinary Destination

In 1911, Emil and Susette bought the Rhododendron Tavern, a lodge built by former Portland mayor Henry S. Rowe. Located on 160 wooded acres, the inn sat near the Zigzag River and welcomed travelers heading to Mount Hood.

Emil expanded the property and improved the guest experience. He added a dance hall, a swimming pool, bridle paths, and cozy guest cottages. He even caught trout himself from nearby streams and served them to guests. Emil created a space where rustic charm and refined hospitality came together.

The Tragic Loss of Emil Franzetti

In November 1916, Emil drove near the Zigzag Ranger Station when his car slid into soft sand and flipped over. A passing farmer found him hours later, unconscious and pinned beneath the vehicle.

Rescuers brought him to St. Vincent’s Hospital, but Emil never regained consciousness. He died shortly after, at just 35 years old.

Friends and fellow outdoorsmen gathered at St. Mary’s Cathedral for his funeral. Members of the Mazamas Winter Skiing Club, many of whom Emil had personally hosted, paid their respects.

How Emil Franzetti Changed Rhododendron Forever

Although Emil lived a short life, his impact endures. After his death, Susette continued operating the Rhododendron Inn for seven more years. Her work honored Emil’s vision and helped develop the area into the mountain community it is today.

Together, Emil and Susette helped turn Rhododendron into a meaningful stop along the Mount Hood Highway. Emil’s commitment to quality, service, and hospitality laid a foundation that others built upon.

Emil’s Spirit in the Heart of the Mountain

The Rhododendron Inn burned down in 1949, but Emil’s legacy lives on through the stories of early Oregon hospitality. His time at the inn remains a powerful example of how one individual can elevate a place through heart, skill, and a deep respect for the guests he served.

So the next time you travel the Mount Hood Highway, picture Emil Franzetti, fresh trout in hand, preparing a meal with the same care he once gave to kings.

Emil Franzetti’s story is inseparable from the legacy of the Rhododendron Inn. To this day, visitors and locals remember Emil Franzetti Rhododendron Inn as a turning point in Mount Hood’s tourism history.

Read about Susette Franzetti HERE
Read about Emil and Susette at the Rhododendron Inn HERE

Burnt Lake Fire 1904: How the Lake Got Its Name

The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 Still Leaves a Mark

If you’ve ever taken the trail up to Burnt Lake on the west side of Mount Hood, you’ve probably noticed the open ridges and the snags along the way—scarred trees that stand like ghosts among the newer growth. The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 swept through this area, leaving damage so severe that the lake was named for it. Though the forest has mostly grown back, signs of that fire still linger, more than 120 years later.

Where Is Burnt Lake?

Burnt Lake sits in the Mount Hood National Forest, just east of Rhododendron. The trail climbs through a mix of Douglas fir, hemlock, and alder before reaching a quiet alpine basin with a view of Mount Hood reflected in the water. It’s a peaceful place now. However, in 1904, fire transformed the scene in a matter of days.

Burnt Lake Fire 1904 – Photo Cheryl Hill – www.cherylhill.net

How the Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 Started

On August 25, 1904, according to newspaper accounts, a man named Henry Harmand was burning brush near the Zigzag River. The fire quickly spread beyond his control. Based on land records and name variations common at the time, it’s likely that Henry Harmand was actually Heinrich “Henry” Haman, a homesteader who had settled in the area that would later become the townsite of Rhododendron.

That summer brought hot, dry conditions, and strong east winds fanned the flames. Once the fire reached thick timber, it moved fast. It tore across the slopes above Rhododendron, swept through the Burnt Lake Basin, and pushed toward Mount Hood and the trails to Lost Lake and Bull Run, Lolo Pass today.

Smoke and Flame Across Mount Hood’s West Side

Eyewitnesses saw a “wall of flame” rising up the ridges. Meanwhile, thick smoke drifted down into Government Camp and Sandy, where locals said they could hardly see. There were no fire crews in those days—only settlers, a few hikers, and travelers on horseback. Because of this, there was no way to stop it. The fire burned for days.

By August 28, 1904, the Oregon Daily Journal and Sunday Oregonian reported that the blaze still raged across the western slope of Mount Hood. The fire had destroyed stands of old-growth forest. Trails vanished under ash and smoke. Charred trees marked the fire’s path from Zigzag Creek to Zigzag Ridge and then toward Burnt Lake.

How Burnt Lake Got Its Name

After the fire, people began referring to the lake as Burnt Lake, a name that stuck. The name became part of local memory—and part of the map. Even today, hikers still pass the reminders. Dead snags are still found along the trail. The ridgeline above the lake opens to the sky where the canopy hasn’t fully returned. If you pay attention, you can still see the shape of the fire in the land. The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 changed more than the trees—it gave a name to the place itself.

The Legacy of the Burnt Lake Fire 1904

The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 was one of the first major wildfires recorded on Mount Hood’s west side. It reshaped the forest, scarred the ridges, and gave a name to one of the area’s most scenic lakes. Today, Burnt Lake still reflects Mount Hood—but also a story that burned its way into the history of this mountain.

Baby Morgan’s Grave: A Tragic Pioneer Story at Summit Meadow

Baby Morgan’s grave – A Lost Child on the Oregon Trail

Tucked in the peaceful meadow near Government Camp, Oregon, lies a quiet grave that tells a heartbreaking story. Baby Morgan’s grave is marked by a small bronze plaque mounted on a random boulder named Chimney Rock by immigrants on the Barlow Trail in Summit Meadow. It honors the memory of an infant girl who died during her family’s perilous journey on the Oregon Trail in 1847.

The Morgan Family’s Journey West

Daniel Morgan and Rachel Woodside were among the brave pioneers who crossed the plains in search of a new life in Oregon. Married in 1841 in Cuba, Illinois, the couple traveled west in 1847 with their children: Seth, Thomas, and Anne. They joined what became known as the “Woodsides Train,” a caravan of families heading for the Oregon Territory.

By June, the party reached Independence Rock in Wyoming. There, tragedy struck. Several members fell ill after eating food contaminated by brass cooking vessels. Rachel, just 25 years old and pregnant, died shortly after giving birth to a baby girl.

The Road to Oregon—and More Loss

Relatives stepped in to care for the motherless children, including the newborn. The wagon train pushed on, crossing Idaho and eventually descending into Oregon along the Barlow Trail.

As they neared Mt. Hood in late October, the baby grew weak. According to family history, the infant was injured during a wagon jolt. Jacob Caplinger, a family member, carried her on horseback, hoping to ease her pain. Sadly, she died not long after, on October 24, 1847.

A Burial Beside Chimney Rock

The family buried the baby at Summit Meadow, near a rock described as looking like a “house and chimney.” That landmark later helped descendants locate the gravesite a century later.

In 1957, family members from the Morgan, Caplinger, and Woodside lines placed a plaque on the rock to honor her memory. Since then, they’ve gathered annually at Summit Meadow to remember her and the sacrifices of all Oregon Trail pioneers.

Legacy of a Littlest Pioneer

Today, Baby Morgan’s grave is a quiet but powerful reminder of the hardships faced by early pioneers. It sits just off the historic Barlow Road, drawing visitors who stop to reflect on the fragility of life during westward expansion.

If you’re traveling near Government Camp, take a moment to visit Summit Meadow. It’s a beautiful spot with a deep history—one that speaks softly through the stones and stories left behind.

Sources & Further Reading:

Transcript: Rachel (Morgan) Gifford
Mount Hood History: Baby Morgan and Summit Meadow
Oregon-California Trails Association: Barlow Road Guidebook

Billy Welch Welches Oregon

Billy Welch: The Heart and Soul of Welches, Oregon

A Young Pioneer – Billy Welch Welches Oregon

Billy Welch Welches Oregon – In the shadow of Mount Hood, where the Salmon River winds through a valley rich in history, the legacy of William “Billy” Welch remains deeply embedded in the land he called home. Billy Welch was more than just a homesteader — he was a community builder, a businessman, and a generous soul whose efforts helped shape the town that bears his family name.

Billy Welch was born on December 24, 1866. At the age of 16, he moved with his father, Samuel “Uncle Sam” Welch, to the Salmon River Valley. In 1882, they each claimed 160 acres of land and built a homestead. Over time, their property expanded to 1,000 acres.

Life on the Welch Ranch

The Welch ranch was a self-sufficient farm with pastures, barns, livestock, orchards, and a vegetable garden. Moreover, the nearby hills provided ample game. In addition, the Salmon River, which runs through the land, was teeming with fish. Billy continued to run the property as a ranch. Billy married Mamie Kopper in 1902 but Mamie died in 1903. Their daughter Lutie “Welch” Bailey was a resident of the area until her death.

Building a Community

Billy cared deeply about the growing settlement. In 1886, with neighbor Firmer Walkley, he claimed a one-acre plot at the junction of the Barlow Road and the road to Welches. They used this land to build the first Welches School. As a result, this early investment in education showed Billy’s dedication to the families establishing roots in the valley.

After Samuel’s death in 1889, Billy inherited the land and continued to develop the property. Not long after, tourists seeking respite from the city began arriving. Therefore, Billy responded by adapting the ranch to welcome them.

Welches Becomes a Destination

By 1905, the property was leased to Clinton “Linny” Kern and a Mr. Wrenn as a hotel resort. To keep up with demand of the tourists that were coming, Billy expanded the facilities. He added a dining hall, a dance hall, a store and a post office near the Welches Hotel. As demand increased, he also added tent cabins throughout the area. Billy took the hotel and property back from Kern and Wrenn in 1909.

In addition to running the resort, Billy remained focused on the growing community. In fact, he often supported neighbors and welcomed guests, making the Welch homestead a hub of local life. Furthermore, his hospitality created lasting memories for the many visitors who lived there or those who passed through.

A Life Full of Laughter and Music

People remember Billy as a jolly soul — good-natured, generous, and full of humor. He played the fiddle and hosted Saturday night dances that would sometimes last through the night, which were popular with both locals and visitors. These lively events took place in the dance hall above his store. There are stories told how the whole building seemed to rock while everyone danced to Billy and his fiddle and the occasional volunteer on the piano. The hall had an east-facing balcony. From there, guests cooled off and enjoyed moonlit views of Hunchback Mountain.

Billy also loved the outdoors. He was an avid hunter who relied on his hounds to flush out deer. Notably, his favorite dog, Leader, was a loyal companion on many trips. It’s common to see his dog next to him in photos. Whether he was playing music, greeting visitors, or roaming the forest with his dogs, Billy lived life with energy and joy.

A Strong Partnership

In April 1911, Billy married Jennie Faubion. She was the daughter of local homesteaders William and Anna Faubion. Together, Billy and Jennie managed the resort, store, post office, and dance hall. Jennie played a vital role in the operation and success of their ventures.

As Welches attracted more visitors, Billy began selling small plots of land to regular campers. Consequently, these families built summer cabins and returned year after year. This trend marked the beginning of Welches as a seasonal destination for recreation and relaxation that still exists today.

Over time, the town grew. Thanks to the couple’s efforts, Welches developed a strong reputation as a friendly, welcoming place. It became a destination loved by visitors and settlers alike. In many ways, their teamwork laid the foundation for the community spirit that still exists today.

Miss Jennie Faubion before she married Billy

Leaving a Legacy

In 1928, Billy leased part of his land to Ralph Waale, who constructed a nine-hole golf course and operated it until 1939. Eventually, after Waale stepped away, Billy and Jennie resumed control and managed the golf course until 1942.

Billy also served as the first postmaster of Welches, from 1905 until 1940. Through his service, he helped the growing community stay connected with the wider world. His work laid the foundation for the town’s lasting success. Additionally, after Billy passed, Jennie continued in this role until 1960. Her contributions further strengthened the continuity and spirit of the town.

Lutie Welch Baily, Billy Welch and Jennie Welch

A Lasting Memory

Billy Welch passed away on October 30, 1942. The land he helped develop eventually became a resort featuring a world-class golf course with sweeping views in all directions. Today, it remains a popular destination that continues to welcome visitors. Now known as The Mt. Hood Resort, it still sits in the same scenic valley that Billy and his father once called home.

Even though the cedar shake cabins and dance halls have almost faded, Billy’s name and spirit live on in Welches. He was more than a pioneer — he was the heart and soul of a community that still thrives in the shadow of Mount Hood.

Ultimately, Billy Welch’s legacy is one of vision, opportunity, connection, and joy. It serves as a reminder that one person’s dedication can shape an entire region for generations to come.