5. ANDREW F.² KEES (JACOB¹) was born 09 Dec 1817 in Washington County, Pennsylvania, and died 18 Feb 1886 in Umatilla County, Oregon. He married (1) ZERELDA REBECCA FRY 02 Jan 1840 in Paris, Monroe Co., Missouri⁴². She was born 14 Jan 1822, and died Jul 1856 in Linn Co., Oregon. He married (2) NANCY ANNA OSBORNE 30 Jul 1860 in Linn County, Oregon^43,44, daughter of JOSIAH OSBORNE and MARGARET FINDLEY. She was born 24 May 1840 in Warren County, Illinois, and died 20 Aug 1929 in Portland, Oregon⁴⁵.

Notes for ANDREW F. KEES:

Andrew served as a Private in the Union Army (Company 1, 21st Pennsylvania Cavalry) for 6 months (1863-1864), in the Civil War. (Source: Civil War Muster Rolls, Box #000554

Andrew and Nancy settled 2 miles South of Weston, Oregon. Andrew deeded 1 and 9/16 acres for a cemetery site (Blue Mountain/Kees Cemetery), from his farm land, in 1875. Records show that neither Nancy nor Andrew are buried there.

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Andrew served as a Private in the Union Army (Company 1, 21st Pennsylvania Cavalry) for 6 months (1863-1864), in the Civil War. (Source: Civil War Muster Rolls, Box #000554

Andrew and Nancy settled 2 miles South of Weston, Oregon. Andrew deeded 1 and 9/16 acres for a cemetery site (Blue Mountain/Kees Cemetery), from his farm land, in 1875. Records show that neither Nancy nor Andrew are buried there.

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http://www.bobg.org/kees_cem.htm

Blue Mountain (Kees) Cemetery

Andrew F. Kees was born in Washington Co., Pennsylvania in 1817 and died in Umatilla Co., Oregon in 1886. In 1860 he married Nancy Osborn (a survivor of Whitman Massacre) and they settled 2 miles south of Weston. From his farmland Mr. Kees deeded 1 and 9/16 acres for a cemetery site in 1875.

All official records of the Blue Mountain Cemetery were destroyed. Fortunately, Mrs. E.C. Miley and Mrs. O'Neal spent many days researching and re-establishing the county records as complete as possible. The following list of burial sites is a completion of their efforts.

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http://www.oregonpioneers.com/1850.htm

Emigrants to Oregon In 1850

KEES, Andrew:

KEES, Isaac:

KEES, Jacob:

KEES, Samuel M.:

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1870 Census Washington Territory Walla Walla Pg 280

Line 40

433 435 Kees Andrew 52 MW Farmer PA

------------, Annie 30 FW Keeping House IL

------------, Lucy 18 FW At Home OR

------------, Robert 1 MW W.T.

Line 4

434 436 Kees Samuel 35 MW Farmer IL

------------, Elizabeth 25 FW Keeping House IL

------------, Charles 5 MW W.T.

------------, Sarah 4 FW W.T.

------------, Franklin 2 MW W.T.

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Kees, A 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

Kees, A S 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

Kees, A S 1885 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 012

Kees, J 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

Kees, J S 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

Kees, L 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

Kees, N A 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

Kees, R 1875 Census Umatilla Genealogical pg 047

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1880 Census OR Umatilla Weston ED 111 Pg 28B

Line 10

53 47 Keys A WM 62 Husband Farmer PA PA PA

---------, N. A. WF 40 Wife Keeping House IL CT IN

---------, L.E. WF 28 Daughter OR PA KY

---------, Katie WF 7 Daughter OR PA IL

---------, Marion WM 4 Son OR PA IL

More About ANDREW F. KEES:

Burial: Kees Cemetery, Athena, Oregon

Census 1: 1870, Washington Territory Walla Walla Pg 280

Census 2: 1880, OR Umatilla Weston ED 111 Pg 28B

Estate: 1886, Umatilla, Oregon⁴⁶

Tax Roll 1: 1851, Linn, Oregon⁴⁷

Tax Roll 2: 1852, Linn, Oregon⁴⁸

Tax Roll 3: 1856, Linn, Oregon⁴⁹

Tax Roll 4: 1857, Linn, Oregon⁵⁰

More About ANDREW KEES and ZERELDA FRY:

Marriage: 02 Jan 1840, Paris, Monroe Co., Missouri⁵¹

Notes for NANCY ANNA OSBORNE:

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The following is an account written by Nancy Osborn Kees Jacobs, Sister to Alexander Rogers Osborn, my great grandfather.

Barely 5 years old (they crossed the Missouri river aboard a ferry on her 5th birthday), it was both very exciting and horrifying to a child. The excitement stemming from the adventure on the wagon trip on the Oregon Trail (Part 1) and the horror from witnessing the events she witnessed that took place before her 8th birthday (last part of Part 2).

She was a survivor!!

From: "We'll All Go Home Again in the Spring" Collected and Compiled by:

Robert A Bennet; Pioneer Press, Walla Walla, Washington, 1984

PART 1

"When asked to write of the scenes and memories of the early days of our beautiful Eastern Oregon and Washington, I shrank from the task, for I Felt incompetent and I feared the criticisms that one gets when writing of the past, especially when telling of the days of their childhood. Yet I realize that, at best, but a few years more can elapse until those who know at first hand of these stirring events will have passed on to that undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns, and then only hearsay evidence of these times will be available, unless those who know shall leave a written record.

I am not ashamed of the name Pioneer, neither am I ashamed of the part that fell on me as one of their number. But who is able to tell of the heroes and heroines who came to this coast. Shakespeare said "The World is a stage and we are all actors", and well did many a man, and woman too, act their part.

And now you will pardon me if I use in my story the names of Josiah Osborn, who was my father and Margaret Findley Osborn, my mother. Father was born in Connecticut may 1, 1809. His mother was Annie Lyon, a cousin of the General Lyon who was killed at the battle of Springfield, Missouri, during the Civil War. Mother was born January 30, 1817, in Clark County Indiana, and immigrated to Illinois when fourteen years of age. They were married June 6, 1834. Both now rest in McHargue Cemetery, near Brownsville, Oregon. It was more than interesting to me, when a child, to hear father tell of hearing the roar of the cannons when Commodore Perry fought his famous battle on Lake Erie, and also to hear Mother relate the brave deeds and hardships of the Revolutionary War, as told to her by her grandsires, both of whom were soldiers during that war.

It seems a part of God's great plan that some people are born to go out ahead to blaze the trails and fight the battles of life so that the flag of freedom may be planted in new places.

During the autumn of '44 and the spring of 1845 some letters were published in the newspapers telling of the Oregon Country, its fine climate, plenty of fish and game, wild berries in abundance and everything nice. No place like the West,--and you know the sequel.

The doctor advised father to take the trip because of a tendency to tuberculosis, so on the 12th of April 1845, we bad adieu to our home and friends in Henderson County, Illinois, and started Westward to the setting sun. How vivid to me yet are some of those scenes; the silent clasping of hands, the falling tear. Once do I remember the voice of father's brother as he said, "God bless you on your journey". "Twas thus we started on our way, not with the puffing of the stately engine or scream of the whistle, as when an emigrant train starts today, but it was "Come Boys! Gee Dick! Haw Tom!" the pop of the whip, and we were off to Oregon. Oh how much it meant to each of us who were in that wagon then.

At Oquawaka, over four miles from our home, we crossed the Mississippi River on a small steamboat. We took dinner that day with Grandmother Findley and stayed all night with John P. Courtney, who, with his family, joined our party the next day.

In our prairie schooner, we carried all of our provisions for the six months trip, father's chest of tools, a box of books, mostly histories of Greece and Rome, etc, Bibles and a few miscellaneous ones, and all of our clothes, bedding and household equipment. The wagon Box was arranged so that the upper part projected over the wheels. We had a corded bedspread arranged so that mother could lie down and rest any time that she wished. This she frequently did as the rough jolting of the dead ox wagon was very tiresome. We had two yoke of oxen and one cow. Together, with the small amount of money realized from the sale of things which we could not bring with us, this equipment constituted our material wealth as we began our long and tiresome journey on the great trail to the West. But if aught were lacking in equipment, it was abundantly replaced by courage and faith that God would care for us, no matter where we wandered.

As I remember, the emigrants that year were mostly from Illinois and Iowa. On May 24, 1845, we crossed the Missouri River on a ferry. I well remember how frightened was I when, as we were about midstream, a yoke of grandfather's cattle became unmanageable and jumped overboard and swam to shore. We crossed the river at ST. Joe, then an Indian Agency and the western limit of civilization. Here was the rendezvous for forming trains for the long westward hike and we met a number of other emigrants and formed a train.

Mr. Abner Hackleman was elected captain of the train, and we remained under his charge until a few days after crossing the Snake River near the end of our journey. The Indian Agent at St. Joe, a Mr. Rubydeau, told the emigrants that the Indians were all ready for their summer buffalo except for the corn which he was to grind. He promised to put off the grinding as long as possible. His plan was to detain the Indians as he feared trouble for the emigrants if the Indians overtook them. The Indians did overtake us later, while we camped on the Big Blue River. They stampeded our stock during a severe hail storm and killed one of grandfather's cows. She had 14 arrows in her. Some of the horses were lost but most of the stock was recovered."

PART 2

"With neither roads, bridges, or ferries our train began its journey toward the land of promise in the New Oregon, and we forded every stream from the Mississippi to the Columbia. As soon as we had crossed the Missouri River we were in Indian Territory and had to stand guard each night to prevent our stock from being stampeded and stolen. To the right of the trail just after crossing the Green River was the open grave of Mr. Sager who had been buried there the year before. The Indians had opened it and I remember the small poles with which the body had been covered, as they were standing upright in the grave. The train stopped a few minutes while we looked at the gruesome reminder that we knew not when we would have to leave some ones to this same fate. Another time I recall was when a stampeded buffalo herd threatened our train. The wagons were quickly halted and every man grabbed his gun. The great fear was of stampeding our oxen as well as danger of being trampled by the hordes of buffalo. The leader of the herd was shot just before reaching the head wagons of the train and the herd was thus divided and scattered. Guarding against such attacks as these, as well as Indians, selecting camping places, feed, water, etc., were some of the various duties of the captain.

There was no settlement until we reached the Willamette Valley. There were some Hudson Bay forts or trading posts at Laramie, Hall, and Fort Boise, and those who occupied them were not in favor of Americans coming to this coast to spoil their trade with the Indians. There were two mission stations, one at Waiilatpu, the home of Dr. Marcus Whitman and his noble wife, and one at The Dalles, then occupied by Father Waller and Rev. Brewer of the Methodist Episcopal church. There was no place on that long journey over mountains and plains and deserts to get provisions except at Waiilatpu, and that near the end of our journey, and in limited amount.

There were a number of accidents and incidents during our trip. Some of the latter I shall mention. On the morning of 5th of August, the water at our camp ran east. When we camped at night the water ran west. We had crossed the divide of the Rocky Mountains. A young man by the name of Andrew Rogers, of whom more will be said later, was helping drive the loose cattle that day. He left the cattle and assisted father, who had dropped out of the train during the day because of mother, to get our wagon into camp that evening. That night a young chap came to our camp and he came to stay. He weighed twelve pounds, and later persisted in calling me sister. I called him Alexander Rogers Osborn. There was one wedding in our train--a Mr. Scott and Rebecca Cornelius were married as we descended the western slope of the Rockies. I Remember how, as they stood in front of their tent by a small fire, my father came up with an armful of sage brush and threw it on the fire. Instantly the whole scene was lighted so that the entire camp could witness the ceremony which was being performed by Mr. Evans, a Baptist Minister.

Soon after reaching the Snake River the emigrants felt safe from dangers of the plains and the train split up into small divisions on account of the greater ease of procuring food and water for the stock. With father was grandfather Courtney with two wagons, and Elisha Griffith. While along the North bank of the Snake River we met Dr. White who told us of Dr. Whitman at Waiilatpu where we could get some provisions. When we reached the Grande Ronde Valley, John B. Courtney and his son John were sent ahead with a little gray mare to secure provisions from Dr. Whitman. On their return to our party they told us of the need of a mill-wright at Waiilatpu as the Indians had burned the mill which Dr. Whitman had erected there. They all told the Doctor of my father as a man who would suit his need, and so we parted from our friends at the foot of the Blue Mountains near the old Cayuse station and wended our way to Waiilatpu, our first camp being where Athena, Oregon now is. that was about the middle of October 1845. Later Isaac Cornelius and Tom Summers came with their families to the mission and stopped for the winter. Summers as a blacksmith and worked for the Doctor. Jacob Rynearson taught the Indian School and Andrew Rogers, a young man from Illinois, taught the mission school for white children that winter. The latter school was small, but a number of the pupils are living yet. I am one of them. You will find the name of Andrew Rogers on the marble slab with Whitman's. They also had a Sunday School for the mission children. This was my first Sunday School and Mrs. Whitman was my teacher. The twenty-third psalm was my first lesson. How I love to think of that school.

March of '46 found us again on the road to the Willamette Valley. We drove overland to The Dalles where we stopped and whipsawed lumber enough to make a flat boat and shipped the wagons and outfit. The four wagons in the party belonged to Messrs. Rynearson, Cornelius, Summers and Osborn. It required several days to saw the boards and build the boat. My father had his tools along and was chief builder of this craft. We drove the stock along the trails and swam the fork cattle across the river just above Cascade Falls. There we unloaded the boats and made a five mile portage. So far, father had steered the boat and Cornelius and Summers had done the rowing but they did not fancy undertaking of shooting the Cascade Falls in that unwieldy vessel so hired some Indians to take it out and turn it loose in mid stream above the falls. Other Indians caught it when it came to the eddy below the rapids. Here we reloaded and resumed our journey to Oregon City, which was then the headquarters of the American settlers. There we spent the summer and made the Quaintance of George Abernathy, the first Govenor of Oregon, Dr. McLoughlin of historic fame, William McKinley, also of Hudson Bay Company and Dr. McKay. In the fall of '46 we moved to Salem, now the capitol of Oregon, where stood the old institute, the pride of the Methodist Missionaries. Judson and McLain were two of the leading men at that time.

Dr. Whitman came to Salem in the fall of 1847 and purchased The Dalles Mission for the Presbyterian Board of Missions and put it in charge of his nephew, Perrin B. Whitman and Mr. Hinman. Father met the Doctor while he was at Salem and contracted to go back with him to Waiilatpu and take charge of the work at the mission for two years, this giving him more time to devote to his work with the Indians. Father was to receive three hundred dollars per year, either in stock or money, besides living for himself and his family. We children were to be in the Mission School.

We left our cattle and chickens and most of our belongings with grandmother Courtney and taking only father's tools and a few household necessities we made the trip up the Columbia River in a batteau with an Indian crew. At Vancouver, Mr. Ogden sold us tea, coffee, sugar, tobacco and other supplies for the trip, all of an order of Dr. Whitman. We left our boat at the mouth of the Walla Walla River and sent word to Doctor that we were there. We waited three days and were camped near some Indians who had the measles. I well remember the death of a little papoose and the mourning of his parents, particularly, the father.

Early on the morning of the third day, Crockett Beaula, (Bewley) who was massacred with Whitman, came to our camp with a large wagon and provisions from Waiilatpu. As soon as we could cook a meal we started on our way to the Mission and arrived there the following day in time for dinner. As we were crossing the Touchet River the oxen, which were quite wild, started up the stream and got into deep water. Mr. Beaula stopped them by jumping out and wading in front of them. Father carried us children from the back end of the wagon to land and then assisted in getting the wagon and the cattle out of the river.

We had been at Waiilatpu just five weeks when the fatal 29th of November came. A number of emigrant families had stopped for the winter, expecting to go in the spring to the Willamette Valley. They brought the measles with them. That year the Indians had been more troublesome than usual. Many of them had the measles and their mode of treatment was nearly always fatal to the patient. They would take a sweat bath then jump into the cold water. Of course death was the result. We also had the measles. My mother came near dying and we buried her babe on the 14th of November. My sister (Sylvia Jane), in her 6th year, died on the 24th. Her memory brings to my mind a scene which I cannot forget. An Indian came into the room where the form of my sister lay. Mrs. Whitman asked leave to show him the dead child. She wanted the Indians to know that the measles were killing white people as well as Indians and thus hoped to allay the growing distrust of the red men. The Indian looked long at my sister, then how cruelly he laughed, to see the pale face dead. The good Doctor and his noble wife were kept busy night and day to care for the sick and the dying.

At last came the fatal 29th. The school, which was taught by Mr. Saunders a lawyer from Wisconsin, and which had been closed on account of sickness, was reopened that day. Three men, Messrs. Kimball, Hoffman and Canfield, were dressing a beef. Father, who had been out to get a bucket of water, remarked that there were more Indians about than usual, but thought it was because they had killed a beef. Mother had gone into Mrs. Whitman's room to see Hannah Sager and Helen Meek who were sick with the measles. Both girls died a few days later. It was the first day that mother had walked across the room for three weeks. The Doctor, who was sitting by the stove reading, was called into the kitchen to give a sick Indian some medicine. The sudden and continuous firing of guns was the first alarm. Mrs. Whitman began to cry and the children to scream. Mother said, "Mrs. Whitman, what is the matter?" She replied, "The Indians are going to kill us all." Mother came back into our room and told us what was being done. Mrs. Whitman called out to fasten the doors and father took a flat iron from the fireplace and drove a nail above a latch on the outside door of our room. Then he seated himself on a box by the foot of the bed on which lay my brother, John, sick with the measles. Mother sat near the head of the bed and I was between them. Mrs. Whitman came in soon after for water. Mr. Kimball had been wounded and had fainted. She came back a second time, asked for my father and said, "My husband is dead and I am left a widow." She returned to her room wringing her hands and saying, "That Joe! That Joe! He had done it all." Joe Lewis and and Indian named Cup-ups came around the house and broke our window with the butts of their guns. Mrs. Whitman and those in her room had gone upstairs.

I had spoken twice to father and said, "Let's go under the floor." He did not answer me, but when Indians began breaking in the doors of the adjoining room, he opened the floor, which was mad of loose boards, and we were concealed beneath.

In a few moments our room was full of Indians, talking and laughing as if it were a holiday. The only noise we made was by my brother Alex, two years old. When the Indians came into our room and were directly over our heads, he said, "Mother, the Indians are taking all of our things." Hastily she clapped her hand over his mouth and whispered that he must be still. I have often been asked how I felt when under the floor. I cannot tell but I do remember how hard my heart beat and how large the ventilation holes in the adobe walls looked to me. They were probably only three or four inches wide and a foot long, but they seemed very large when I could see the Indians close on the other side.

The Indians tried to follow those who had gone upstairs but were kept back by a broken gun being pointed at them. They persuaded them to come down, saying that they were going to burn the house. Mrs. Whitman fainted when she came down and saw the Doctor dying. She was placed on a settee and carried by Mr. Rogers and an Indian. At the door Mr. Rogers saw the circle of Indians with their guns ready to shoot and dropping his end of the settee exclaimed, "My God, we are betrayed." A volley from the waiting savages was his answer and both he and Mrs. Whitman were mortally wounded.

The Indians then told Joe Lewis that if he was on their side he must kill Francis Sager to prove it. Francis was my school mate and about fourteen years old. We heard him cry to Lewis, "O Joe, don't shoot me.", then a crack of the gun as Lewis proved his loyalty to the red men."

"TO BE CONTINUED......"

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OREGON PIONEERS

http://www.oregonpioneers.com/1845.htm

OSBORNE, Nancy (1840- ): m1. 1860 KEES, Andrew; m2. JACOBS, []; d/o Josiah and Margaret (Findley) Osborne

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1900 Census WA Walla Walla Walla Walla Ward 3 ED 89 Pg 2A

Line 7 (Billings Hall, Whitman College)

19 19 Jacobs Nancy A Head WF May 1840 60 Wd (6 Children 2 Alive) IL CT IN Matron

Kees, M. A. Son WM May 1876 24 S OR PA IL Steward

Lots of Boarders

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1910 Census OR Multnomah Portland Ward 7 ED 187 Pg 14B

Line 543

293 316 321 Dickey Edgar E Head MW 34 M 15 WI Wales New York Accountant ?? House

------------, Lua C Wife FW 36 M 15 (3 Children 1 Alive) OR MO IL

------------, Marion E SonMW 10 S ID WI OR

Jacobs Nancy A Mother-in-law FW 70 Wd IL MO MO

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1920 Census OR Multnomah Portland ED 73 Pg 8A

Line 17

293 161 168 Dickey Edgar E Head MW 53 M WI PA Wales Accountant Woolen M Stores

------------, Lua Catherine Wife FW 46 M OR PA IL

------------, Marion E Son MW 21 S ID WI OR

Jacobs, Nancy A Mother-in-law FW 79 W IL CT IN

More About NANCY ANNA OSBORNE:

Burial: Kees Cemetery, Athena, Oregon

Census 1: 1850, Oregon Territory Linn Pg 66(See Father)

Census 2: 1860, OR Linn Brownsville Pg 339(See Father)

Census 3: 1870, Washington Territory Walla Walla Pg 280(See Husband)

Census 4: 1880, OR Umatilla Weston ED 111 Pg 28B(See Husband)

Census 5: 1900, WA Walla Walla Walla Walla Ward 3 ED 89 Pg 2A

Census 6: 1910, OR Multnomah Portland Ward 7 ED 187 Pg 14B

Census 7: 1920, OR Multnomah Portland ED 73 Pg 8A

Emigration: 1845, IL by Ox Team 5 yrs old

Picnic: 1892, Weston, Umatilla, OR

Residence: 1892, Weston, Umatilla, OR

More About ANDREW KEES and NANCY OSBORNE:

Marriage: 30 Jul 1860, Linn County, Oregon^52,53

Children of ANDREW KEES and ZERELDA FRY are: