The town of Oakland was originally established in 1851 by a guy named Dr. Dorsey Baker. After striking out rather than striking it rich in California, he staked his claim to some land just east of Calapooya Creek in the hills north of Roseburg. Not to be outdone, California, as it often does, followed Oregon's lead and established their own Oakland in 1852. In the 1870's, when the railroad put its depot a mile southwest of Oakland, Oregon, the town picked up and moved down the hill to be next to it. Many old homes and buildings were actually disassembled and rebuilt on the new town site, and the town continued to thrive.
A lot of those old wooden buildings burned down in a couple of big fires in the 1890's, but the businesses rebuilt with brick, and most of the downtown area consists of those old brick buildings, which partly explains why Oakland was the first city in the whole state to be placed on the Oregon historic register, in 1968.
All the old buildings are pretty cool, but when I rolled into town on Highway 99/1st Street I probably would have stopped at the Oakland Tavern even if the building had been brand new. I was hungry, and I was thirsty, and it sounded like they could probably do something about that. The fact that the tavern has been there since 1898 was just a bonus. The sandwich was good, and the Beak Beaker IPA was necessary; Aaron Rodgers was on the TV. I suspect they did that just to sell more alcohol. While averting my eyes from the screen I noticed the early evening sun streaming through the old windows, and it reminded me that there was just another day and a half left of this summer, and that from now on I'd better bring a heavier coat. It was a nice, warm evening, though, and would make for a nice night of football. I also happened to notice, on the bar in front of me where people from far and wide had inscribed their names on the surface, that Bill Dellinger had possibly sat in that same seat on June 13,1984, eleven days after his U of O track team had edged out Washington State to win the national championship in Eugene.
When it was time to get up, I took a short stroll around the few blocks that make up the downtown. I saw three different wine shops, which might be a record for a town of around 1000 people. I found Stearn's Hardware store, which has been a family business since 1887, and I saw the Turkey Hall. Don't laugh: Back in the early 1900's, Oakland was the turkey capital of either Oregon, the United States, or the whole universe, depending on who you listen to. It was a big deal. In 1929 Oakland sponsored the first Northwest Turkey Show, and I'm trying to imagine what that must have been like, and I can't. The folks in Oakland bred and raised the turkeys and shipped them out of their train depot to other markets all over the country, and I'm a little surprised, and very disappointed, that their high school mascot is not a turkey. That fact is even more disappointing when you realize they struggled to come up with any mascot at all, and they had one staring them right in the face the whole time.
Gertrude Stein, when she returned to Oakland for a visit, famously proclaimed that there was no there there. But she was in Oakland, California at the time, and she certainly wouldn’t have said that if she’d have been in Oakland, Oregon. There is definitely a here here. There’s not a lot of it, but what there is is nice because it’s removed from the freeway. If you want to get on I-5 it's only a mile away, but that big road seems to degrade everything it touches. Oakland probably missed out on some growth by being bypassed, but it has also retained its identity for that same reason.
My tour didn't take long, and it was time to get to the high school for some football. The school is up at the top of a hill north of downtown, not far from the original town site, now known as the Old Town area. Then I found out that the football field is at the middle school which, thankfully, is directly behind the high school. At least they had nice signs pointing the way, which is much more rare than it should be. I skirted the high school, found an empty spot in the middle school parking lot, and followed the flow of fans toward the entrance, where $6 got me in the door. (There wasn't really a door).
It's a nice spot for a field, situated west of the middle school on a bluff that slopes down to Calapooya Creek, and the grandstands have a lot of character that is often missing at other places. There are decent-sized grandstands on both sides of the field, and at first I wasn't sure which one I should be sitting in. They both looked about the same size, and there was nothing to tell me which one was for the home fans. In the end, my eyes made the decision for me. The sun was going down above the hills to the west, and those sitting in the east bleachers were looking straight into it, which I really didn't want to do.
I went to the west side, where I grabbed a seat in the shade of the covered stands and stared back at the poor people on the other side, hoping I'd get to stay where I was. Within a few minutes cheerleaders arrived in their blue and gold outfits, and band members walked by carrying their instruments, so I assumed I was on the home side, as turned out to be the case. Thank goodness. I had a nice, sunless view of the natural grass field with a 6-lane rubber running track around it, and both grandstands are old-fashioned wooden structures, with not a wooden bleacher seat to be found. My butt says "thank you", Oakland.
I later realized that the fans in the home grandstand were almost exclusively old people. I don't know if the retirement homes in the area run buses to the games or what, but there was a huge turnout of retirement-aged Oakers fans. It was unusual, and there seemed to be an unwritten and unstated rule that this space was for the old folks. Most of the younger crowd had opted to stand on the running track, and there wouldn't have been room for them in the stands anyway. I felt a little out of place, but someday I'll be in my 60's, or 70's or 80's, and I might come back to Oakland just to fit in with this crowd. At some places people of that age wouldn't feel comfortable at the game, but in Oakland they make up a sizeable portion of the supporters, and it's a pretty cool sight.
Having decided against The Fighting Turkeys, apparently, Oakland High School chose to call themselves The Oakers. At least it's unique, but I have no idea what an Oaker is. It's hard to make out on their little logo, but that flag that the acorn is holding says "NUTS" for some reason. It could have been worse: They could have been the Cougars, or the Eagles. But they also could have been The Fighting Turkeys! Ugh. Huge missed opportunity right there. The Turkeys, I mean the Oakers, play in Special District 4 of the 2A classification. As you may remember, in 2022 2A schools began playing 9-man football due to some schools finding it difficult to find enough players for an 11-man game. Interestingly, both Oakland and their opponent for this game, the Salem Academy Crusaders from Special District 2, each had enough players to have easily fielded 11-man teams.
The sign on Oakland's scoreboard needs updating. It lists the Oakers' class B state championship in 1964, and their 2A state championship in 2012, but doesn't yet mention their championship from 2022, the first year of 9-man football. They were 2-0 so far this season, and were coming off a 36-0 thumping of Weston-McEwen/Griswold. Their opponents from Salem Academy were also 2-0, so I was expecting a competitive game, which it kind of turned out to be, but kind of not.
The whole game was a little strange. I've seen many teams lose by lopsided scores, but I've never seen such an evenly matched game where one team won by 37 points. Both teams ran the ball well early, and it was 14-7 midway through the first quarter, and the yardage gained on the night must have been pretty comparable for both teams, but the Oakers were consistently helped by turnovers and penalties against the Crusaders at the most opportune times. Every ball bounced Oakland's way and, even as an Oakers fan, I have to say the officiating was in their favor to an embarrassing degree. That bend-but-don't-break pattern continued for the rest of the contest, and by halftime the Oakers led 28-7, and it wasn't much of a contest at all.
The good thing about Oakland's dominance was that it provided a chance for the Oakers pep band to play frequently, and they are pretty good, and the 8-girl cheer squad did their thing, too. Sadly, there was no halftime entertainment, but I guess everybody deserved a little rest by that time. My rest included a walk to the east side of the field, where the snack bar is located just south of the visitors' grandstand. They were out of Frito pie by that time, so I stuck with my usual popcorn and coffee, and had no complaints.
As I was enjoying my refreshments, the game resumed and it was more of the same, with the Oakers occasionally coming up with big plays while giving up a few too, only to keep the Crusaders out of the end zone each time. Oakland continued to add to their lead, and there would be no comeback for the visitors. But, weirdly, if these two teams play again later in the season at a neutral site, I'd give Salem Academy a shot. It was just one of those nights for them. On this night, though, the Oakers of Oakland ran their record to 3-0 with a 44-7 victory, and I wouldn't bet against them, either.
It had been a nice evening, and we were back on the winning track, but the night didn't end without a little bit of bad news. When I stopped in Curtin to fill up my gas tank, I couldn't help but notice that the old Stardust Motel across the road had closed up shop. A hurricane fence encloses the whole place now, and the parking lot has been overgrown with weeds. The Stardust is now a dust heap, without me ever having had the pleasure of spending a single night there. Mrs. Ednold is probably pretty relieved, and I can't say I didn't see this coming, but you will be missed, Stardust Motel.