Echo of Distant Water: The 1958 Disappearance of Portland's Martin Family
320
Echo of Distant Water: The 1958 Disappearance of Portland's Martin Family
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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781634242417 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Trine Day |
| Publication date: | 08/05/2019 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 320 |
| File size: | 6 MB |
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CHAPTER 1
Sunday at Martin Manor
In the early morning hours of that same Sunday December 7th, 1958, all was quiet at the Martin family home. Draped over a wingback armchair by the fireplace in the living room was a large red and white Santa Claus suit and next to it, a woman's pioneer costume in drab brown complete with a cream-colored bonnet and matching apron. On the table in the adjoining dining room was a small wicker basket filled with Christmas candies wrapped in green, red, and gold paper, filberts and walnuts in their shells, and about a half-dozen small oranges. Amber-colored cellophane covered the basket, which was tied at the top with a dark green velveteen bow.
Around 8:00 a.m., a small girl with blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a light complexion carefully opened the door of the "bunk room" that she shared with one of her sisters. She tiptoed down the back hall so as not to wake her parents sleeping in the next bedroom, crossed the living room silently, and stopped directly in front of the basket on the dining room table. She began to wriggle her small hand carefully under the cellophane, which crackled loudly in response.
"Suzie, what are you doing?" she heard from behind her.
"Mother said we are to wait until the Evans come and we'll open it then," Gina (pronounced Jenna) said matter-of-factly.
Suzie raised her shoulders slightly but didn't turn around. "Well, mother does not need to know."
Her sister Gina was just a couple of inches taller than Suzie and two years older at twelve. She wore brown bangs, dark framed glasses, and had a medium complexion.
"Come on Suzie, let's read until everyone is up. Mother is returning the books on Wednesday and you still haven't finished that Ramona and whatever her name is book you're reading."
"Beezus," Suzie corrected it for her. "Beezus and Ramona."
She was walking through the archway joining the dining room to the living room and she paused briefly by the front door to retrieve a library book from a wooden apple crate overflowing with books. Then she crossed the small living room in several short strides and plopped herself onto a striped grey davenport against the wall perpendicular to the fireplace.
Gina followed behind her, having picked a book of her own out of the box. She joined Suzie on the davenport, her foot nudging the costume-draped chair ever so slightly toward the fireplace so that she could have a little more legroom. She picked up her book, which was called The Secret of the Andes, and began to read when Suzie interrupted her.
"Haven't you already read that one?" Suzie inquired.
"I like it" was Gina's curt reply.
Suzie persisted: "It seems with so many books out there you might read something new."
Just then, Mrs. Martin came into the room. Heavy-set and matronly, she wore a dark grey bathrobe and small spectacles. An outside observer might have mistaken her for the girls' grandmother.
"Good morning girls," she said.
"Good morning mother," they both chimed, not quite in unison.
"Girls, the Evans will arrive with their children around 10:30 and we'll go look for Christmas greens after that."
Suzie and Gina put their books down.
"Can we go to Larch Mountain?" Gina asked eagerly. "Joyce hasn't been there and I'd like to show her." Joyce Womack lived down the street. She would be coming over shortly and planned to join the family on their afternoon excursion.
"Your father and I haven't settled on a plan yet, girls. But we will discuss it when everyone is together in the kitchen in a little while. First, though, your father and I will be having a talk with Barbie, so you girls just carry on reading until we've finished. And sorry to say, Gina, Joyce's mother phoned that Joyce has caught a cold and won't be coming along."
"Well that's just too bad." Gina raised her book slightly to conceal the disappointment on her face. She thought about the game that she and Joyce were fond of playing on car rides. They would carefully tally up which houses had a television antenna and which did not and marvel each time at the increasing number of sets popping up all over town. Gina couldn't wait for her mother to win one in a sweepstakes contest someday soon.
Just then, Barbie appeared in the room, having descended the narrow staircase from her small quarters on the second floor. She was fourteen with blonde hair in a ponytail, blue eyes, and like her middle sister, a medium complexion.
"Barbie, your father and I would like to speak with you in the kitchen just as soon as he comes out." Mrs. Martin began.
"And good morning to you, mother." Barbie responded a little coldly.
"Yes, dear," was the reply and Mrs. Martin reached to adjust her daughter's ponytail with some degree of affection.
"Barbie, today's the day we get to hunt for Christmas decorations!" Suzie reminded her.
"That'll be fun, Suzie." Barbie said. While she sounded genuinely enthusiastic, all of them could tell that she wasn't quite.
"Barbie, you go into the kitchen and wait for your father and I." Barbara Martin said sternly.
"Yes, mother."
Mrs. Martin walked back down the hall to her bedroom and Barbie made her way over to the kitchen. She paused briefly in the dining room and her sisters could hear the sound of rustling cellophane for a brief moment. They looked at each other, smiled quick smiles, and shrugged.
A little while after that, Mr. Martin came into the living room.
"Girls, how about we go find us some Christmas greenery today? I'm betting we can make Martin Manor more festive than ever this year. What do you say?" This was of course old news, but Suzie and Gina lit up anyway.
"Let's go to Larch Mountain," Gina suggested.
"We'll see about that. I'm going to get the paper and have a cup of coffee and then we can discuss it. How's that?"
"Yes, father."
Mr. Martin, still in his checked flannel robe and suede slippers crossed the room, opened the door, and stepped onto the front porch. At 5' 10" and over two hundred pounds, he was considered portly in his time, but by 21st century standards he would be quite typical. Near the door nailed to the siding was a large wooden plaque that read "Martin Manor" and Mr. Martin briefly glanced at it approvingly before making his way down the several steps to the paved walkway that made an s-curve through the middle of the front lawn.
The morning was overcast but almost balmy after a cold week. The temperature was in the upper forties already and would move well into the fifties in the Portland area by afternoon.
Ken Martin stopped and turned toward his home. It was a modest two-story Tudor affair, with brown-shake siding and two steep gables. Only the south-most gable had a window and it was a small rectangular one. Ken looked up to see the small glass animal figurines that Barbie had placed there keeping vigil through the window and he smiled. He and Barbara had purchased the house back in 1932 — moved in when it was brand new — and it had always been the perfect home even though he knew that it was getting a little too cramped for the family now that the girls were approaching their teenage years. It was hard to say what the future held. But the house was such a part of them, and so was the neighborhood.
Their street between Northeast Broadway and Hancock had been dubbed "Candy Lane" all because of the family's efforts to spread Christmas cheer to each house on the block. As the press would frequently tell it in the days and months to come, Ken played Santa Claus for the neighborhood children and did so in a jolly and utterly convincing way.
A few years earlier, in his basement workshop, he cut pieces of plywood into approximately four-foot tall candy cane shapes. The kids painted them red and white, and the family distributed them to every house on the street for display over the weeks prior to Christmas. "Perhaps if we return at a reasonable hour this evening," Ken thought to himself, "we can put the candy cane and some fresh greens up in front of the house." With that thought, he turned and walked back up the steps, swept the hefty Sunday edition of the Oregon Journal under his arm, and headed inside.
Suzie and Gina were still reading on the sofa and hardly noticed as their father passed through on his way to the kitchen. Over the next little while, both girls were thoroughly absorbed in their books, but did make out snippets of dialog trailing in as hushed voices occasionally and suddenly rose.
"There's still time," they heard Barbie protest at one point. "We don't need to rush this."
A bit later, Mr. Martin exclaimed, "it's what's best!" followed shortly after by Mrs. Martin's firm "Donny reassured us."
Suzie and Gina were not sure what to make of the conversation. They were certainly aware that their older sister's journey into adolescence had made her somewhat more stubborn of late, but what would cause her to be so ornery about going on the annual trip to collect Christmas greens?
At the same time, they were not at all surprised to hear that their older brother Donald had helped to orchestrate the Christmas greens-hunting excursion. Although he was currently stationed across the country as a Navy corpsman at Fort Schuyler, New York, Donny had always loved Christmas as much as the rest of the family and had likely convinced their mother during one of their not so frequent long-distance phone conversations.
"Suzie, Gina. Breakfast!"
In the kitchen, breakfast was a little more hasty than typical for a Sunday morning. Barbie sat in the breakfast nook nonchalantly paging through the funnies and eating a plain slice of well-toasted bread. The rest of the family joined her and ate poached eggs on toast generously slathered with oleomargarine. Conversation was unusually light as well and after a quarter of an hour, Gina and Barbie went to the adjacent dining room to work on some scrapbooking together along with several girls from up the street who had stopped in to say hello. Suzie meanwhile announced that she was going to the neighbor's house to play.
"Alright Suzie but when the Evans arrive, we'll phone over and it will be time to come home," Mrs. Martin stated.
"Yes, mother," she said, part way out the door.
"And don't go shooting BB's in the basement again."
"No, mother."
When she arrived next door, Suzie ran directly downstairs to the basement. Doug Deines was shooting BB's at a paper target taped on the side of a bicycle box.
Suzie spent a while target practicing until Mrs. Deines called downstairs to tell her that the Martins had phoned to say that they wanted her home. Suzie immediately set the rifle down on the clothes washer, ran up the stairs, out the door and back across the lawn to find the Evans' black 1950 Buick sedan parked on the street and the family just making their way into the house. It was now 10:30 in the morning.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans had with them their two young children along with seven-year-old Marcy Welch who had spent the night at the Evans' house. Both the Evans and the Welches were second-cousins of Mrs. Martin and they regularly joined together for Sunday dinners at each other's homes. While the parents talked in the living room, the children played together in the backyard.
At some point, Marcy phoned home to her mother Mrs. Arden Welch, who, after a brief chat, asked to speak to Mrs. Martin. She inquired whether the Martins planned to join them and the Evans for Sunday dinner at their home in the Southeast district of Portland as they usually did. Mrs. Martin politely declined, explaining that there was a plan to "go up the highway" for Christmas greens later in the day. Mrs. Welch did not press for the meaning of that statement. In the mid-Twentieth century, Portlanders often used the phrase "going up the highway" to mean taking a drive out to the Columbia River Gorge on Highway 30.
A little later, Mr. Evans tried once again to extend the invitation to dinner at the Welches.
"We better stick to the plan," Mr. Martin replied.
"What's the plan, Ken?"
"Oh, just going for a ride" was all he said.
Shortly after this, the Evans loaded their children and little Marcy into their Buick, waved their goodbyes, and drove off.
Over the next while, the family prepared for their excursion out to the Columbia Gorge. As it was a relatively warm day, the girls decided to wear casual clothes that were not ordinarily appropriate for journeying into the wilderness near the onset of the Pacific Northwest winter. Gina and Barbie wore jeans with the cuffs rolled up. Suzie insisted on wearing her favorite red-and-white striped pedal pushers. She wore a Campfire Girls blouse while Gina and Barbie wore sweaters and the two older girls brought along ski-type jackets.
Mr. and Mrs. Martin, on the other hand, were more sensibly dressed for the excursion. Mrs. Martin wore a dark dress, navy blue coat, black pumps, and a hat. She may have also worn gloves. Mr. Martin wore dark pants, sweater, and a tan colored coat with a zipper closure. He also wore brown moccasin-toe brogue shoes.
In the living room, Mrs. Martin gathered up what remained of the gift basket that had been shared with the Evans from a holiday lodge party the night before. She took the empty nut shells and candy wrappers and placed them in the fireplace. Then she retrieved a brown paper sack from the kitchen and placed the small oranges inside. "Some snacks for the road," she thought.
Next, she set her reading glasses on the small wooden mantel above the fireplace so that she would remember where they were when they returned home. Finally, she went to the kitchen, retrieved a white paper package of ground beef from the ice box, and put it to thaw beside the sink just in case they made it back for dinner after all.
During this time, Mr. Martin was in the driveway folding down and removing the rear seats of the family's station wagon. The car was a 1954 Ford Country Sedan 6 model station wagon. That particular model had nine seats, which was perfect for a family of six, especially on their frequent outings to the Oregon coast, the Cascades, and other destinations around the state and beyond.
Mrs. Martin was a great lover of sweepstakes and jingle-writing contests and she was surprisingly successful. Among other prizes, she had won for the family a trip to Cuba, a clothes washer, and a Jeep Willys.
At this point, the family didn't actually own a TV set and were holding out for the possibility that Mrs. Martin might win one as a sweepstakes prize. As for the Jeep they had it traded in for the station wagon in July 1954 at Wolfard Motors on West Burnside Street and had never regretted it. While they only owned one automobile, it was both reliable and functional. Moreover, Mr. Martin drove a grey and yellow panel truck from his employer, Eccles Electric Home Service Company, so that Mrs. Martin could have full access to the station wagon for her countless driving needs. Now the company truck was parked out front on the street and the station wagon was all ready to go.
Questions remain about the exact time that the Martins departed that afternoon. Ella Chinn, who lived several doors down across the street, remembered seeing the family leave around 2 p.m. or a little later. She had noticed what Mrs. Martin and the middle daughter were wearing and pointed out to authorities that Gina had on red boots.
Frank Womack, washing his car across the street on this relatively mild day, told officers that it was closer to 1:30. He noted that Mr. Martin carried two film cameras around his neck as he and the family loaded into the station wagon for the journey.
As the car rolled south on Northeast 56th Avenue toward Broadway, the Martin daughters waved out the window to the neighbor girls who had stopped in earlier and were now on their way to another friend's house. They waved back. Likely because of their young age, those girls could not recall the exact time that their friends left when investigators later questioned them. Nor for that matter did they remember hearing anything about a hunt for Christmas greens.
As they were leaving the neighborhood, the family passed Walker's Flying A Service Station at Northeast 60th and Halsey Streets. This was the station where Mr. Martin typically traded and he hesitated briefly to consider whether additional fuel was necessary at this point. A quick glance at the gauge revealed that there was plenty in the tank to get them where they were going. After all, he had put over five gallons in the day before. So he drove on past, figuring that he would bring the company truck by in the morning to say hello to Al Walker and refuel before heading to work for an early meeting.
CHAPTER 2Gone
Monday morning December 8th was cold and foggy and by afternoon a steady rain would be falling in Portland. Taylor Eccles arrived at his place of business, Eccles Electric Home Service Co. at the corner of Northeast 3rd and Broadway at approximately 7:40 a.m.. As he hurried into the building, he noticed almost immediately that the service truck that Ken Martin usually drove was not yet parked out front.
This was unusual for two reasons. For one, Ken was highly punctual and always arrived at least five minutes before his employer. Secondly, Taylor Eccles knew that Ken had an important business meeting with some outside representatives that morning at 8 o'clock and Eccles was quite certain that Ken would never cut it so close in that kind of situation. When Ken failed to show up at all that day, Taylor Eccles realized that something was wrong.
Not far away at Rose City School, the fifth and seventh grade classrooms were similarly perplexed by the absence of Suzie and Gina Martin. Ken and Barbara had given no notice that their daughters would be out that day. Around mid-morning, the second-grade teacher Mrs. Charlotte Dorsey received word of the absences and attempted to phone the Martin residence, finding no answer. She wondered why her brother Ken had not notified anyone that the family would be going on a trip. Occasionally, the family would embark on an outing that extended into the work week, but proper advanced notice was always given.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Echo of Distant Water"
by .
Copyright © 2019 J.B. FISHER.
Excerpted by permission of Trine Day LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
cover,
Title Page,
copyright page,
Dedication,
AUTHOR'S NOTE,
ABOUT THE TITLE,
Map,
Prologue: Dusk Falls,
Part One: Then,
1) Sunday at Martin Manor,
2) Gone,
3) Into the Gorge,
4) Seeing the Martins,
5) The River Reveals,
6) Graven's Trail,
7) Stranded in Time,
Photographs & Documents,
Part Two: Now,
8) Scant Presence,
9) Reverberations,
10) The Big Fix,
11) Silent Water,
12) The Bridge of the Gods,
13) Fugitive,
14) Watery Moonlight,
Epilogue: Riverview,
Acknowledgements,
Timeline,
Author Information,
Index,
Contents,
Landmarks,
Related Subjects
Customer Reviews
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