Fred was the only son of Barney and Tamer Briody. His name was shown as Frederic in Catholic church records and census records and he is shown as Frederic Briody, Sr. on his death certificate; however, he was always known as Fred. Fred is shown as having acquired a land patent in Oregon on 8 June 1906 for 157 and 22 hundreths acres. The land patent was issued out of Portland and was for the South East quarter of the North East quarter, the North East quarter of the South East quarter and the Lot numbered thirteen of Section thirty and the south West quarter of the South West quarter of Section twenty-nine in township four South, of Range ten West of Willamette Meridian, in Oregon. "Fred Briody 1877-1952" This is an accounting by Glenn Briody of my memories of my father Fred Briody. To begin with, "Fred" did not stand for "Frederick" and there was no middle name. His name was simply Fred Briody. He was born Feb. 27, 1877 in the Beaver Creek area near Oregon City, Oregon. He died in Salem, Oregon, Jan. 18, 1952. He was the fourth child and the only son of Tamer (Swett) Briody and Barnard Briody. He married Elizabeth Ella Adams Dec. 16, 1908 in Russelville, Kentucky. Dad corresponded frequently between Oregon and Kentucky and their courtship and marriage resulted from this correspondence. More on this interesting story later. They had four sons: Frederic Virgil, June 22, 1911-Jan. 13, 1988; Leonard Clayton, June 8, 1917-April 24, 1999; Donald Edward, July 8, 1919-Jan. 13, 1992 and Glenn Raymond, Nov. 22, 1923. These are memories about Dad as related by his son Glenn. Dad left home at an early age, probably in his teens. I've had the feeling that Dad was anxious to get away from home. His father Barney had died when Dad was 14 years old. Dad moved around the Willamette Valley and lived in various places including Willemina, Sherida and interestingly, at the Siletz Indian Agency at Grande Ronde. I don't have many details of that period. He did enjoy being with the Indians and forming friendships with them. He learned quite a few Indian words and used many of them during my childhood explaining the meanings to me. He traveled to the coast with them. One trip was by horseback on the beach, around headlands, and over old Indian trails. Dad talked considerably about a gold nugget having been found in the hills above Willemina. While I was in my teens, Dad, my brother Leonard and I hiked for a couple of days in those hills searching for the source of that gold. Dad believed he might know where there was "gold in them thar hills". We didn't find any gold and I'm not sure Dad really thought there was any gold there but it gave him a chance to be with his sons. I really had a wonderful time on that trip. Dad had brought his old lever action western style Remington 32 special rifle and we did not some target shooting of tin cans, etc. This trip was one of my better memories of times I spent with Dad. Dad had settled in Cloverdale, Tillamook County early in the century before he was married. About this time he became interested in the Presbyterian Church. He had been raised a Catholic but I don't think he found what he was looking for in that church. However, he was quite comfortable in the Presbyterian Church. Dad helped build the church building in Cloverdale. While he was in Cloverdale he read a Presbyterian periodical publication that included some articles that had been written by a young lady who lived in Kentucky. He became interested in the articles and started corresponding with the young lady. Her name was Elizabeth Ella Adams. The correspondence developed into something more serious than just "pen pals". Dad eventually reached the point where he decided he was going to Kentucky to meet this young lady who wrote the articles. He traveled to Kentucky by train, I believe, in 1908, met the young lady and married her! They came back to Oregon and settled together in Cloverdale. They lived in Cloverdale for several years where they were active in church and in the Grange. Their first two children, Frederic and Leonard, were born while they lived in Cloverdale. Then they moved to Sandlake. Their next two children Donald and Glenn were born in Tillamook while they lived in Sandlake. While they were still living in Cloverdale, Dad made a living any way he could. He did commerical fishing using a dory in the Little Nestucca River and at sea off of Haystack Rock. In those days fishermen launched dories without motors into the surf at Pacific City. They would push off, jump in and then row across the surf. Dad also sold milk and cream to the Tillamook County Creamery Association, did some logging and carpentry. Dad and mother talked about times before I came along when they would gather with other fishing families at a fish camp at Pacific City or Woods for dory fishing. The fish camp was set up somewhere near Cape Kiwanda. Dad talked a lot about the area and seemed to enjoy his times there. It was primitive living but they were accustomed to primitive living. They caught a lot of salmon and sold them. There is a photograph in the family which many of you may be familiar with of Dad in a dory full of fish, probably in the Little Nestucca River in 1914. Dad was never one to talk much about his past and only occasionally did he get started talking about past events in his life even though I believe that Dad did live a very interesting life in those days. These were not easy times but I believe they were fulfilling times. Sometime after Leonard was born, and probably in the early 1920's, Dad and a partner went into the shingle mill business in the Sand Lake area. I don't know the circumstances but evidently it was not a very successful arrangement and ended when Dad lost most of his left hand in a shingle saw. About 1923 Dad and the family from Sandlake into Tillamook. They had developed a very close friendship with a couple by the name of Link and Ella Lawrence whom we boys always called Uncle Link and Auntie Lawrence. They were very dear friends of the family. Auntie Lawrence was like a second mother to me and I always felt very close to her. Uncle Link had a very close fellowship with Dad. He was a skilled cabinet maker and carpenter. He taught Dad a great deal about cabinet making and also taught him to make burial caskets. Dad acquired considerable skill as a carpenter and cabinet maker thanks in large part to Uncle Link's advice and help. Auntie Lawrence brought me into the world as midwife to Mom. My mother was staying with the Lawrences when my time came to be delivered. Since no doctor was available, Auntie Lawrence stepped in to take the place of the doctor. An interesting sidenote: Auntie Lawrence had a son who was killed in the First World War whose name was Glenn Raymond. When I arrived I was supposed to be a girl, at least the folks hoped I would be a girl. They did not have a boy's name picked out for me but had previously chosen a girl's name. Mom was not in good health during the time of my delivery and really did not feel up to choosing names so she gave Auntie Lawrence the task of choosing a name for me. Auntie Lawrence gave me the name of her deceased son, Glenn Raymond. Since I learned of this I have come to believe that this cemented a special bond between Auntie Lawrence and myself. In Tillamook Dad worked for Tillamook Spruce Veneer Co. This was a box-shook mill in which stock for fruit and vegetable crates was manufactured. Large spruce old growth logs were turned on a lathe and the turned material was then cut into slats and cleats which were used in the manufacture of the crates. The stock was assembled into fruit crates at the packing plants in California. Dad built a chicken house while we were in Tillamook and this was my first experience doing any kind of productive work as Dad's helper. I was probably about eight. Dad had me on the roof helping apply shingles. As an eight year old this seemed to be a very large building but in reality it was probably quite small. Dad tried to teach me how to use shingling tools. He would tell me "no that's wrong, that's wrong, do it this way". As I remember he was very patient but in retrospect I can't imagine how he ever completed the roof. This was really my first experience of Dad trying to teach me anything. It's a good memory. Dad had always kept cows and chickens. He brought home wood from the mill where he worked and from Coate's Mill. Mostly this wood consisted of millends and trimmer edgings. Trimmer edgings were long narrow strips of wood that were cut off the edges of boards to reduce them to the proper size. They were usually 3/4" thick and 3/4 to 2" wide. Dad used them for firewood. What I remember was that this was the dandiest wood from which I could build all kinds of things. As an 8 year old, my imagination allowed me to build automobiles, airplanes, skyscrapers and many other great things of wonder. I flew airplanes and drove automobiles made from trimmer edges and this was a great source of enjoyment. Dad always raised a large garden. And seemed to find great pleasure in gardening. He would come home from work dead tired from stoking furnaces in the mill and would start working in his garden and in a very short time seem to be at peace with the world. Before long he would be singing in a clear Irish tenor voice the church hymns he loved so well. During all of my memory that is what Dad did, work at the mill. When the mill in Tillamook closed in 1933 the operation was moved to Booth on the central Oregon coast. Booth was a company town occupied by two companies, Tillamook Spruce Veneer and Crown Willamette Logging. Our family worked for Tillamook Spruce Veneer. This was during the depression and we felt fortunate that Dad was selected as one of the employees to make the move. Booth was located on the East side of Siltcoos Lake. This side of the lake is opposite the side adjacent to the coast highway. There was no road in to Booth, the only way in was by boat or rail. The rail line was the Eugene to Coos Bay spur of the Southern Pacific. The move to Booth was made more difficult because the furniture had to be shipped by rail to Booth, offloaded onto a small railroad flatbed handcar, and then pushed by hand up a steep hill on a plank road to the house. The big upright piano was a problem. While being rolled up the hill with Dad pushing against it with his back, the piano rolled off the handcar and over Dad's back. It hit the ground with resounding boinggg. Fortunately Dad was not injured. While we lived in Booth Dad and I did some pretty interesting things. Dad and I did some fishing together. One of my favorite memories was of surf fishing at Winchester Bay with throw lines. The technique was to tie a weight, usually a railroad spike to heavy green fishing line to which was attached a row of baited hooks. By swinging the weighted line around one's head, the line could be cast a great distance into the surf or bay. The line could be retrieved slowly and one could tell when a fish took the bait. The fish were mostly rock cod, sea perch, or flounder. Occasionally the family would pick blackberries in large quantities. Dad would use them to make blackberry wine. Of course as a teenager I didn't drink any but it was delicious. In Booth Dad worked at the mill as a fireman. He stoked the big furnaces that provided steam to generate electric power to the mill and to the rest of the community. This was extremely difficult, hard work and Dad's health began to fail while on this job. He was eventually diagnosed with Parkinson's disease and the mill owners were generous in allowing him to continue working at the mill as a night watchman. But in this work he was required to push the heavy kiln cars manually through the dry kilns. That heavy job continued to aggravate his deteriorating health. The mill closed in 1943 and Dad's health prevented him from working any longer. The folks then moved to Glenada in 1943 where they lived for a short time. Later they bought a house in Cushman, on the Siuslaw river near Florence. I was drafted into the military service at this time and returned in early 1946. When I returned I was shocked to find my parents in extremely poor health. Mom died in 1949 and Dad followed her in death in 1952. I would like to continue this memory session at a later date in order to include more memories of my mother. Recollections of a loving son Glenn Briody, January 30, 2000"