The setting was beautiful.  Incased in a ‘grove’ of the spindly rock formations prevalent in the area, was the funeral pyre and a large grassy hill.  The formations towered over the scene by over a hundred feet. 

The funeral pyre was enclosed in a Plexiglas wall several feet high; there was a small entrance on the southwest side.  Directly over the pyre, maybe 2’ X 3’ above the pyre, was a chimney.  It was wide at the bottom, and narrowed down to just a foot or two at the top; a good 20’-30’ feet tall.

It was made of a brown metal, matching the color of the rocks with a lighter brown metal holding the corners together.  It was a good match for the surrounding area.

The pyre itself was about 2’ high X 10’ long and X 6’ wide.  It was made of cinder block and a heavy meshed metal screen over the top – it reminded me of a large barbecue pit.  Inside were tubes and gas jets.  There was a walkway around the base of the pit – if I recall correctly it was concrete.  The Plexiglas wall was about 2 – 3 feet away from the pit on all sides.

To the east of the pit was a bunker with eye slits at the height of the pyre.

We went around to see what the insides looked like.  It was the ‘control room’ of course.  There the slits were at eye level, about 5 – 6 feet from the ground. There were a few dials and knobs on the wall facing the pyre.  The one dial showed a temperature range of up to 2500 degrees.

The Fire Chief said that would be about right for an outside pyre.  The fuel for the fire was propane, although all tanks had been removed. 

On the rock formations were small ledges, I have been told that the Rajneesh sat on the grassy hill and on these ledges during the singing, dancing and other actions as bodies were cremated.

Afterwards we left, had lunch in Shaniko and headed on home.

The one thing that really astonished me was there had been no vandalism.  Building and grounds were starting to deteriorate, but no one had come down and tried to break things.  The locals were glad to see the Rajneesh gone, but weren’t interested in committing the criminal actions of vandalism.

At first Washington tried to give the ranch to the State of Oregon, but they refused to accept it; it would cost money to renovate and keep up.  The people living around the ranch were skeptical and concerned.  They didn’t know what he planned to do and some were afraid he may sell it to another cult.

While he was making a decision as to what to do, he had a caretaker live in the farm house with his family.  A young man from a local ranching family he did the best he could to keep things in order.

This was not my last trip down to the ranch.  The Dalles Chamber of Commerce sponsored a leadership class for area business people; I was a member of that first class.

The Chamber Director had lived in Maupin for a lot of her life.  Her father was the person in charge of the local mills down there.

Part of her curriculum was to expose the business people of The Dalles to the other areas and communities in Wasco County.  The field trip through some of these smaller communities in the county included a visit to the Ranch – I was the tour guide for several of these classes.

When we started out either the Director or I asked how many of the people had been to Dufur – about 16 miles south of The Dalles a few raised their hands – when asked how many had gone farther south there was only one or two hands raised.

The Director wanted them to see there was more to Wasco County than The Dalles – and reminded them that they had customers that came up from these areas to conduct their business in The Dalles.

I was surprised that so many had never gone down there.  Of course I had been there several times including being a supervisor in the boys’ dorm, and clerking among other things at the County Fair in Tygh Valley.

I had enjoyed this area, and its people, long before I decided to run for Sheriff.

If I had given it some thought, though, I would have realized that Wasco County wasn’t much different than other areas.  The people in the larger communities often don’t get out and around to the rural areas.  They focus on their life in the city and forget there is more country out there.

I have always admired the fortitude and strength of those that live off the land.  They work hard, they get their hands dirty, they speak their minds and for the most part they are good people.  They contribute to the community and endure what many other businessmen would close shop over.

As I write I am reminded of a breakfast meeting for the Chamber of Commerce.  Several of us would meet each week and discuss the bills that were being considered by the State legislature.

On this particular morning a bank president came in, obviously tired.  He had purchased a home that was built next to a Cherry Orchard.  He was complaining because the Grower had been out at about 0230 spraying his orchard that morning and had been working out there for over a week getting his orchard ready.

Farming can be noisy, particularly when everything else has been quieted down.

I laughed and told him that he might take a look at how many orchardists had accounts in his bank – putting money in them while working those long hours starting at 0230.  He looked at me, and that was the end of his complaining.  Most of the orchardist banked at his institution.

Psalm 103:17-18 But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children's children;

¹⁸ To such as keep his covenant, and to those that remember his commandments to do them.

Not doing real well today, in A-fib and just funky, but I know that the mercy of God is still here.

We may not know why God doesn’t just ‘do’ something, but we do know that in His mercy we can rest assured that He is here with us.

Later, Art :-)

From the ColumbiaRiverGorgeous
May Our Good Lord Bless and Keep YOU....’til we meet again