Eminent Domain

By Jeffrey Butts

I’m no lawyer and I don’t play one on TV.  That’s my disclaimer and I’m sticking to it.  If you live in Oregon, the whole property rights thing has been a cash cow for the litigators during the past two plus years.  Measure 37, passed by the voters in November of 2004 and upheld by the Oregon Supremes just about a year ago has been in the news a lot lately.  My interpretation of the Measure is that the counties have to pay property owners fair value for losses accrued due to changed land use regulations or to allow the owners to waive the restrictions and develop the property themselves.  As I understand it, there is nothing that prevents state (or Federal) government from taking over property provided just compensation is forthcoming.  This is known as the law of eminent domain and is typically for projects in the “public” interest (think: highways).  What has all of this got to do with a gearhead website?  Hang on, I’m going to get there.

Several years ago I took a trip up the valley to Brownsville and, on the way back, passed Camp Adair, just north of Corvallis on Highway 99.  After I got home that day, I looked it up on the internet and found that it was a military training camp during WWII.  I pretty much forgot about it until late last year when I happened to spot a small book at Powell’s Bookstore in Beaverton.  “Camp Adair,” by John H. Baker tells the story of the days preceding the war declaration and how the Army had decided it needed a training post (in addition to Forts Ord and Lewis) on the west coast.  There were specific requirements, all intended to meet the training needs for troops headed for both the Pacific and European theatres.  These included areas for firing ranges, both wooded and cleared fields, flat terrain and mountains.  All in all, the Army wanted 65,000 acres of which at least 2,000 acres would be used for building sites.

[Sidebar here for some definitions.  There is no such thing as an Army base.  It is a “post.”  It used to piss my parents off when people referred to our duty locations as a “base.”  Permanent posts are called “Fort.”  Temporary military quarters are known as cantonments or “Camp.”  During the late 1950’s we lived in Monterey, California at Fort Ord.  To the south, near Salinas were Camp Roberts (still in use by the National Guard) and Camp Hunter Liggett.  Hunter Liggett was a 200,000 acre training area at about the same time as Camp Adair in Oregon.]

On a cold, clear day in the first week of February, I decided that this former Army training site, Oregon’s largest ghost town, should be investigated.  It would have been easy enough to jam down I-5 but I elected to take an alternate route.  Leaving home, I headed across the Chehalem Pass and, via Highway 99 to Highway 18, took the turnoff for Oregon 221 at Dayton. 

Dayton is named after the city in Ohio and was laid out by General Joel Palmer.  Palmer was, among other things, the first Superintendent of Indian Affairs in the Oregon Territory and was well known (and not always popular) for his ethical treatment of the Indians.  He was eventually removed from his job after he successfully moved the Rogue River Indians to the Grande Ronde reservation (an area that was deemed as highly desirable by the pioneers).  The park in the center of town contains a wooden blockhouse that was moved from Fort Yamhill on the reservation to Dayton in 1911.  Across from the park to the north is a wood and brick building, originally a Baptist church, now a private home.  As of this writing, it looks considerably better from a block away than it does up close where you can see the junk piled around.  The town has an abundance of interesting home and commercial structures.  One that I particularly liked was the original location of the Foster Oil Company.  Again, it is surrounded by an awful lot of crud.  As I watched, a guy was working on a truck.  If you look closely you can see him in front of the garage door.  I’m sure that the land surrounding this building is a chemical cesspool not unlike similar gas station/garages from this era.  Still, if you were a zillionaire it would be an interesting project to restore and convert into a restaurant, or tavern, or something.  Anything.

Continuing south on Highway 221, I turned right (west) on Zena Road at the intersection in what used to be the community of Lincoln.  Go back to my story of Willamette Landings for more on the riverboat and ferry boats on the Willamette.  Lincoln is just south of the currently Wheatland Ferry (one of three still in operation on the river) and was long ago a ferry boat crossing called Doak’s Landing (operated by Andrew Jackson Doak).  A post office was established there in 1867 and Doak named the burg in honor of Abe Lincoln.  It became a steamboat stop for daily trips to and from Portland.  There’s no sign of any of the riverside operations any longer although a little store and gas station remain at the intersection.  Travel west over Bethel Heights on a wonderful road and just before you get to Highway 99 you will see a white structure on your right.  This is the Bethel Academy building.  The village of Bethel was established in the mid-1840’s and in 1852 a private school known as Bethel Academy was opened.  Keep in mind that there were few public higher education institutions at this time.  In 1855 a new building was opened as the Bethel Collegiate Institute and ran until it was combined with Monmouth University in 1862.  The building was used as a public school for many years and is currently in use as a church. Looking at its’ whitewashed countenance today, it is not hard to imagine what an impressive structure it must have been early in the 20^thcentury. 

I turned south on Highway 99 and booked down to Monmouth to meet my old friend Rick Hopkins for lunch.  Rick lives in Independence (oft written about in these pages and one of my favorite pioneer towns) and was kind enough to spring for my meal.  Wow, with friends like this, retirement will be a breeze!  I said good-by to Rick with a promise to meet him again this spring and then headed for Camp Adair.

I wanted to come in from a different side and so I took the turn off to Airlie.  Airlie, just to the northwest of Camp Adair, was a small community with a general store/post office, a school, church, and two lumber mills.  Nothing remains of that now, just some homes and shops all within a stone’s throw of one another.  One of the properties had some nice old tractors out in front.  This was the oldest machine of the bunch.  Cool.  I turned around and went back east until I came to a turnoff that I had identified from the Baker book and from maps as being the road past the old firing ranges.  This was a pretty well done gravel road (you cannot say I’ve never driven the 914 on unimproved roads) that cut south and then east along the side of Coffin Butte.  Most of the land has been converted back to agricultural use although the northernmost range, just below Smith Hill, is still owned by the gummint.  It is now a National Guard firing range.  I then drove back past some interesting roads to Highway 99 and then into Camp Adiar. 

When the winds of war were in the air in the early 1940’s, Oregon was very interested in securing the training site.  Eugene and Corvallis were vying for the Army’s attention like a couple of prom queen finalists.  You need to put this in the context of the times.  The Willamette Valley was still suffering the effects of the Depression.  Farming was not a big money business and both Eugene and Corvallis recognized that a project of this size would employ a huge amount of workers in addition to the military and their families.  The ripple effect throughout the local economy would be a windfall to the community that the Army settled in.  According to the research done by John Baker, there was a considerable amount of glad handing, letter writing to the War Department, and visits to the Presidio of San Francisco (Sixth Army Headquarters…lived there, done that).  In the end, it was logistics that brought the prize to Corvallis.  The area was served by a secondary rail line (it would not interfere with movement of material during wartime).  There was a smaller population meaning less impact on the community as well as less impact on the Camp.  A highway (Highway 99) served the area as well as good farm roads.  Overpasses were constructed over Highway 99 that allowed military traffic access to the ranges and bivouacs without disrupting civilian commerce. While the decision was pretty much in the bag by the middle of 1941, monies for the purchase of the land and for construction had not yet been attained.  That all changed on December 7^th of that year.  Within days the funds were made available.

Construction started in 1942.  To quote some figures from Baker’s book, bids for 1,800 buildings (not to mention roads and improvements) were opened in February of that year with a target completion date in September.  The main camp would be six miles wide by ten miles long.  Buildings would include a field house, bakery, water treatment plant, multiple chapels, service clubs, and post exchanges, a coal yard, an electrical substation, airfield, etc.  Oh yeah, and FIVE FREAKIN’ HUNDRED BARRACKS!  A military camp for 40,000 was built on time (six months) and on budget.  But what about the people in the communities bounded by the property?

There was no Measure 37 in 1942.  The circumstances were, indeed, different and there were many personal sacrifices made for the sake of our country.  The community of Wells, Oregon was pretty much in the center of the proposed site for Camp Adair.  It was an original pioneer town and had a school, church, and several other buildings.  It was completely demolished in order to build the training camp. Although the fever of patriotism ran high, some of the area farms had been in the same families for nearly 100 years.  The War Department doled out what it thought to be fair prices for farms, mills, dairies, and homes.  For those who felt that they had been under-compensated, a review and appeal process was established.  Nearly all appeals were successfully approved.  Oregon farmers and businessmen and their families were relocated.  The camp was completed, soldiers were trained.  Four years later, in May of 1946, the camp was decommissioned.  The grounds were used as a POW camp for German and Italian prisoners for a short while longer and then the buildings were razed and the materials sold as salvage.  The hospital at the south end of the camp was used as housing for OSU students for a few years.  Today, other than some concrete foundation footings and a memorial, nothing of Camp Adair exists.  Camp Adair had a reputation in its’ day, a reputation for being wet and miserable.  In fact, the soldiers training there called it Swamp Adair, very fitting because now the Camp is home for a wildlife and waterfowl refuge.  After an hour or so of poking around the camp, I headed back up Highway 99 to McMinnville and then took Highway 47 back through Carlton and Yamhill to home.

All of the roads I traveled on this day are wonderful for exploring.  With the exception of Chehalem Pass and the dirt roads near Airlie, all are suitable for medium to high speed cruising.  You can also travel some of the original roads within the cantonment area.

It was a little cold and windy on this day but you could pretty much imagine what it must have been like back then with the bustle of activity and the constant movement of people.  Driving by when I did back on that Brownsville trip I had no idea that a ghost town that impacted so many lives was so close.  Many people were asked to sacrifice their homesteads and business in the name of the greater good.  Those who had a legitimate grievance had their cases reviewed and dispositioned.  While they could never be compensated for their emotional sacrifices I can find no reference in any of my Oregon history books or on the internet of the kind of legal wrangling and political posturing that we see today.  Yes we have Measure 37 but we also have a history of citizens making difficult decisions for the good of the whole.  Where is the memorial to that?