 |
| Dallas & Jesse Eby, Date unknown |
Deputy Sheriff James Hone pushed his horse through the dense thickets of white pine outside the little town of Waverly, Washington, trusting his mount’s instincts to navigate the blackness better than his own eyes could. After weeks of investigating stolen horses from farms around Latah County, his frustration had turned to bitterness. Now he and his men were on the trail of two members of the gang responsible. The thieves had always managed to slip away, but this time, Hone was certain they had them cornered. They had ambushed the trio at their makeshift camp, and when the two older members bolted into the night, they left the youngest behind. The stolen stock they found at the camp—several horses and a beef steer—along with other incriminating evidence, was more than enough to convict them. But first, they had to catch these two scoundrels. Hone spurred his horse harder, feeling the urgency of the chase. “This time,” he thought, “you are not getting away!”
On foot, Burt and Jesse were tiring from the hot chase through pine groves and fields. They were no match for the mounted posse that had somehow figured out their hideout and escape plan. They knew Jesse’s younger brother was already captured. Their luck had run out. As the posse closed in, forcing their surrender, they briefly wondered if their scheme to sell stolen horses for quick cash had been worth it. As the posse took them into custody, Jesse wondered what he and Dallas had gotten themselves into.
The arrest of Burt, Jesse, and Dallas made headlines 100 miles away in Spokane and spread through the grapevines from Latah County to Clearwater County. The horse thieves who had plagued the area had finally been caught. Knowing they were caught dead to rights, all three pled guilty and were sentenced to hard labor at Walla Walla State Penitentiary in Washington State for grand larceny. Burt Paget and Jesse Eby, at 23 and 21, received two-year sentences. Eighteen-year-old Dallas was sentenced to one year. They served their time, and as far as this writer knows, they were released as changed men who led ordinary lives on the right side of the law until their deaths. I know because Dallas Eby was my great-grandfather and his brother, Jesse Eby, was my great-grand uncle.
 |
| (Back) Mary Eby, Sam, Etta, Dallas; (Middle) John & wife Mary, Charles & wife Cordelia; (Front) David, Fred & Jesse. c. 1899 |
Dallas was born on August 19, 1884, in Yakima, Washington. His parents, David and Mary Louisa Eby were pioneers from the Midwest who arrived in the Pacific Northwest around 1880, likely drawn by the promises of land grants and job opportunities in timber and mining. David, a carpenter and farmer who had served in the Union army during the Civil War, and Mary Louis, raised one daughter and five sons, Jesse and Dallas being the youngest.
When David died at the age of 47, it left Mary Louisa to raise eight children alone. The boys, including young Dallas, took on day labor jobs to help support the family. By 1900 the older children married and moved out to begin their own families. Only the five youngest boys, including Jesse and Dallas, remained at home supporting the family, taking on any work they could find.
The story passed down in our family is that our great-grandfather Dallas stole a horse because it was being abused by its owner. This endearing tale likely began to ease the guilt of family members admitting their ancestor was guilty of grand larceny. However, documentation indicates that while they knew they were breaking the law, it was done by young men whose families were in financial straits, making it understandable albeit misguided.
Deputy Sheriff Hone was lauded by the community for apprehending and arresting the boys. All three pled guilty having been caught red-handed amidst all the evidence of their crimes. At their arraignment, Burt requested leniency due to the impact his imprisonment would have on his parents, but Jesse and Dallas said nothing. Burt’s request was denied. He and Jesse received two-year sentences, likely due to their attempt to escape, while Dallas received a one-year sentence.
.jpg) |
| Walla Walla Penitentiary ID Record. 1903 |
Dallas, now prisoner #3098, stood tall at 5 feet 11 inches and had light brown hair and piercing gray eyes a stark contrast to the grim surroundings of the penitentiary. His left arm hung awkwardly, probably due to past accident, and a horseshoe cut scar on his left index finger, along with his right thumb missing at the first joint, told of a young life already filled with hardship.
But what was “hard labor” like in a penitentiary in 1903? In places like Walla Walla, prisoners toiled in mines, extracting coal or other minerals. The air was thick with dust, and the sound of pickaxes echoed through the tunnels. Many worked on prison farms or labored on road construction and other infrastructure projects. There was no respite for inclement weather. Whether under blistering heat or freezing rain, they toiled under strict supervision in harsh conditions, designed to break their spirits and enforce discipline. One can only imagine the dread Jesse and Dallas felt upon hearing the prison gates clanged shut behind them.
 |
| Jesse Eby holding daughter, Etta Mae. c. 1910 |
One might wonder how one or two years of hard labor would affect the three would-be horse thieves. While Burt’s fate remains unknown, it is clear that prison reformed Jess and Dallas. Three years after his release, Jesse married a local girl, Grace Stevenson. They lived on their own farm in Waha, Idaho, where they welcomed two daughters, Etta Mae and Mary Lucile. Sadly, Mary died less than a month after her birth of inanition, but Etta Mae grew up, married, and moved to Montana raising four children of her own. Jesse’s wife, Grace, died just a few days after giving birth to Mary Lucile. Jesse later remarried Gladys Miller, a local widow with two children. They moved to Miles City, Montana, where Jesse died of liver cancer at the age of 41.
Dallas returned to Fraser, Idaho, to live with his mother and brothers Fred and David Ray. The brothers took on odd jobs and farm work to support the family. During this time, likely while working at the Stuart farm, Dallas met Homer Stuart’s sister, Cora Lee. Within three years Cora found herself pregnant, much to the outrage of her staunch Anglican father. Society at that time held very strict views on morality, and Cora and her family faced harsh judgement not only from her father but from the community. Unable to confront her family or her father’s disappointment, she sought refuge with Homer and his wife. Helen, their daughter, was born in November 1908.
Dallas and Cora married in 1910 and moved to Lewiston,
Idaho, about 60 miles west of Fraser.
They embraced farming life and welcomed their son, Eugene, the following
year. They then returned to Fraser,
where they grew with the arrival of Vernon, Zelma, Ruth, Gerald, and Luella.
 |
| Dallas & Cora Eby. Oct 1921 |
Families in Oregon during the Great Depression—as in much of the U.S.—faced unique challenges and adapted in various ways to survive. They made do with what they had; everyone in the family worked at whatever sporadic and part-time jobs they could find. Communities supported one another through barter, labor exchanges, and shared resources. Life was tough, but resourcefulness and mutual support helped them navigate these difficult times.
 |
| Heading to Oregon: Cora, Eugene, Luella, Dallas, Ruth & Zelma Eby. 1929. |
Although I never knew them, family remembers my great-grandmother Cora as being quite strict and matter-of-fact, while stories recall my great-grandfather Dallas as kind, gentle, and generous with a quick wit and a sense of humor. He died at the age of 50 in Keizer of kidney cancer and was buried in City View Cemetery in Salem. Cora lived on to the age of 74 and is buried near her husband.
.jpg)
As a final tribute to my great-grandfather, Dallas, I’d like to share a poem he wrote during his time in Fraser, Idaho. It reflects his experiences, values, and the simple, enduring wishes of a man who faced many hardships but held onto what truly mattered in life:
Better than Gold
In a Pullman Palace Smoker sat a number of bright men
You could tell that they were drummers
Nothing seemed to trouble them.
When up spoke a handsome fellow, ”Come, let’s have a story boys,
Something that will pass the time away”.
“I will tell you how we’ll manage said the bright knight of the grip
“Let us have three wishes, something good and true.
We will give friend Bob the first chance, he’s the oldest gathered here.”
Then they listened to a wish that’s always near.
Just to be a child again at mother’s knee
Just to hear her sing the same old melody
Just to hear her speak in loving sympathy
Just to kiss her lips again
Just to have her fondle me with tender care
Just to feel her dear soft fingers through my hair
There’s no wish in this world that can compare
Just to be a child at mother’s knee
There they sat, those jolly drummers, not a sound that moment heard.
While their tears were slowly falling,
There was no man spoke a word.
For the memories of their childhood days had touched their dear kind hearts.
When as children they had played at mother’s knee.
Then at last the spell was broken by another traveling man.
“Your attention for a moment I do crave.
I will tell you of one precious thing, so dear to one and all.
Tis a wish we long for to the very grave.”
Just enough of gold to keep me all my days
Just enough with which some starving soul to save
Just enough I wish to help me on my way
Just enough to happy be
Just enough to know I’ll ne’er be poor again
Just enough to drive away all sorrows pain
You may wish for many things but all in vain
Give to me what precious gold can buy
The conductor passing through the train stopped in the smoking car.
He had grown quite interested in the stories told so far.
“Please excuse my interruption, but I listened with delight
To your wishes both of them so good and true.
Yet there is a wish that’s dearer, better far than glittering gold.
Though a simple one, perhaps you all will say.
Tis a longing that is in my heart each moment of my life.
Tis a gleam of sunshine strewn across my way.
Just to open wide my little cottage door
Just to see my baby rolling on the floor
Just
to feel that I have something to adore
Just to be at home again
Just to hear a sweet voice calling “Papa Dear”
Just to know my darling wife is standing near
You may have your gold, your lonely heart to cheer
But I’ll take my baby, wife and home.
Written by:
Dallas Eby at Fraser, Idaho, Nez Perce County
No comments:
Post a Comment