LEAVING PORTLAND IN 1974

Leaving Portland in 1974 was quite memorable.

Memorable departures usually have a location in mind.

I was headed to Fort Ord, California and the All-Volunteer Army on September 6, 1974.

What was I thinking?

It all started with an idea of jumping the line, the competition line.

I’d been a high school wrestler, a Greco state champion.

The summer after graduation in 1973 I hitch hiked from the Oregon coast to University of Iowa for the big Junior National tournament.

Third place earned all-America status, but I didn’t know it back then.

My high school coach was also national coach of the year, but I didn’t know that either.

What I did know was I got cheated out of a national championship by a sketchy ref. (It’s always the ref, lol.)

After a weak year of college wrestling I wanted a real challenge. My reasoning was, ‘If I’m going to fail, I’m failing big.’

And I did. I tried out with the All-Army Team and didn’t make the cut.

Leaving Portland On A Big Jet Liner

I rode into Portland on Greyhound from Coos Bay, finished up the details for Army induction, and caught a plane.

It was my first time on a jet and very exciting.

But part of the deal was staying overnight in Portland. Back then rooms were booked in the Portland Hilton.

Since it was a kinder and gentler Army, men and women were both booked in the Hilton.

We all met up and took a walk around town.

No one was old enough to go into a bar, but when has that stopped motivated youngsters on the edge of starting a new life?

Peters Inn was close and we didn’t get carded.

A rowdy crowd carried on inside the bar. I saw someone I knew, the beautiful older sister of a guy from town.

I told her what I was up to and who I was with. She was a fan.

“I support the troops,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

I was leaving Portland the next day.

In 1980 I came back. On the Greyhound, of course.

Leaving Town 1990

My wife grew up in a tough place.

When we decided to get married and put down roots, she didn’t want a city environment.

She’d had enough. We met in NW Portland and got married.

We moved to inner-SE. Where to go next?

It was either out of town on 84, 26, or I-5.

We chose I-5 and started looking close to Portland, like Multnomah Village.

The challenge to match money and housing landed us in Tigard.

The local choices were Gresham, Beaverton, or Tigard.

Moving to Tigard, I realized I’d be living in a town younger than me.

By then I was a committed history man doing things only done in Oregon.

That’s been my life goal since those days.

Oregon is always in my sights, which means Portland is in there, too. Why?

Oregon without Portland would make Vancouver, Washington the big city on the Columbia.

If that’s the idea, we might as well call ourselves Idahoans. They’d like that.