“At the Foot of the Mountain: An Early History”

Jane Comerford

Neah-kah-nie – First Peoples who lived along the Oregon shoreline below that stately mountain were called Nehalem, and they were members of a larger tribe, the Tillamook. Along this section of the Oregon Coast 20 or so miles south of Seaside, they are the beginning of the human story, but not the landscape.

History must begin with a jump start. Jane Comerford writes that “The mountain was there from the beginning,” and by that we assume human beginnings. That mountain was called Necarney (late 19th century navigational version) or Neahkahnie, in the present incarnation. We assume early Native Americans baptized the mountain as Neahkahnie. Or not quite, because the first pioneers put their own spin to Indian words, and within a century, few of the First People remained to ask or verify such distinction. Sitting now at the beginning of a new century, it is appropriate that we stick with this spelling and the sentiment that drives it.

There remains little doubt that this basalt outcropping precedes those Native Americans. Their legends of that 1,700-foot edifice date back to prehistory. Such stories are often relegated to legend and allegory. Time often spins a certain element of whimsy and nostalgia (along with much speculation and predictable distortion) into history books, and Comerford’s chronicle is no exception.

Along the way there were disasters and triumphs. Comerford deals all this with great panache. The book is skillfully written. Beyond that, this historical chronicle is a fine-looking book, what booksellers used to call a quality paperback (soft cover, but substantial). Thanks to Giuseppe Lipari, the design is strong and handsome. The book is chock full of wonderful historical photographs, reflecting the history of that mass of humanity that became human outflow on either side of Neahkahnie Mountain.

The book is not written to be a page-turner in the same way as a historical novel like Don Berry’s “Trask,” which reflects the arduous lives of the first Oregon Coast homesteaders and deals with Neahkahnie in particular dramatic fashion. “At the Foot of the Mountain” is more a coffee-table edition of local history, but in this case, a fun edition that rewards all of us who devour the rich history of the Pacific Northwest and our stunning landscape. This book is not a conquest, but a pleasant diversion from television or computer, or the frantic pace of our lives.

The settlers in Comerford’s chronicle are tough, cantankerous and accident-prone. The landscape of the Oregon Coast was nothing if not rugged. The steep trail that hugs the precipice at Neahkahnie was dangerous and occasionally deadly for those passing on foot or with horse, pack mule or wagon. Remember “Trask” and that terrible fall of horse and rider from Neahkahnie into the abyss called the Pacific Ocean?

For 123 pages, Comerford draws us along. If we study the sailors in “At the Foot of the Mountain,” one would quickly deduce that many of those sailing ships met their Waterloo on the Northwest Coast.

Real estate brokers of the 19th century were land-thirsty. Several amassed fortunes, but of those fortunes, many were quickly lost. Is there a ring to all this?

Such is the passage of humanity, and Comerford chronicles that pioneer evolution, but not always in natural order. And the book may have been stronger if Comerford had dwelled a bit longer on the Native American aspects of this evolution.

Certainly, many of these pioneers (and their brave character) empower us today. We tend to glorify our past. Yet — if you read between the lines – those times were hard times. Disease not only decimated the Native Americans, but the average pioneer family met with a large dose of pain and suffering from a Pandora’s Box full of diseases.

Natural disasters collided with hard reality when there were no medical facilities (or house calls by a competent doctor) within striking distance of these early homesteaders. They were often forced to traverse rugged trails between sparse rural outposts from Tillamook to Astoria. Imagine struggling through thicket for a full day to achieve six or seven miles. Before the highway that traversed across Neahkahnie in the 1940s, that was the reality of crossing The Mountain.

Of course, this pioneer civilization fared better than the 200 or so Native Americans who were recorded as the few survivors of their proud people in an early 20th century census. This is a particular tragedy, because so much of the native pantheistic spirituality and reverence was (and is) lost on modern cultures. Comerford gently points all this out without pouncing on our particular human frailties and insensitivities, but the lesson resonates.

Reading this book is a pleasant task. The patina of this brief coastal history is rich, as this book is rich. There will be those rain-drenched afternoons when we are forced inside our comfortable heated homes. Brew a cup of good tea or coffee – this chronicle is worthy of a three-cup afternoon – and fast-break past the cover of Comerford’s book.

Feel fortunate for our circumstance and our luck. Say a blessing for those pioneers who broke trail. Borrow what you can from the First Peoples, and remain respectful. And thank Comerford for such splendid memories.