Checking out the ducks at the confluence of Sucker Creek with the Willamette River. Sucker Creek flows out of Lake Oswego.

The first thing that enters my mind when I think about Lake Oswego’s lake is knowing my grandparents paddled it by canoe on their first date on July 15, 1925. They both lived in Portland, and I assume its water was fair game for all back then. This story, too, adds further to the relevance of boats within my family history. I have written a bit about my grandfather, Richard Gill Montgomery (Daddy Dick to us), grandson of J.K. Gill and author of The White-Headed Eagle among two others. Although I’ve written less about my adored grandmother, Dorothy Haradon, I do includes bits about her in my first book and memoir (see My Music Man). Back when she went on that first date, she had only just graduated from St. Helen’s Hall and was a Rose Festival Princess, something that seemed surprising to me both then and now. Later her parents attempted to keep them apart due to their age differences, but l suppose one could say love prevailed.

Floodwaters didn’t slow down my live-life-dangerously grandmother. Our grandmother Dorothy was nicknamed by her eldest granddaughter as the soon-to-be “WhoWho” because she would often enter a room with a “hoo hoo” welcome, though Daddy Dick sometimes said it was because she could be nosy. She preferred her red jeep to a sedan, her blue Driving Miss Daisy style cap to any fancy bonnet. And certainly sensible shoes to any heels, at least when she wasn’t in throne: WhoWho was a 1925 Portland Rose Festival Princess and, twenty-five years later, a Rose Festival Court Chaperone. I imagine as our KGW news station began to forecast the rising river waters, my grandmother wisely left her jeep at the top of steep Rose Lane where it intersected Wilsonville Road. And what of my grandfather? Perhaps WhoWho urged him to get out of the house and get himself to work. “Dick, you really need to get out of that chair and on your merry way.”
Chapter 14: Floods, Earthquakes and Volcanoes: My Music Man

Yes, stories often change through the generations and all these 50+ years later, I suspect it was my uncle rather than my grandmother who canoed that stretch of Wilsonville’s Montgomery Way. However, to me, the canoe trip seemed to fit the grandmother I knew better than her being a princess.

Returning to Lake Oswego, though, I’ve had my own experiences while living as a neighbor to Lake Oswego in nearby West Linn: cycling around the lake on available roads, peering at it from full length windows while awaiting the kids at their dentist, or once taking them to the (then?) public beach to swim. More recently, I looked across the lake from State Street as I awaited continuation of my TriMet Route 35 commute. I’ll be honest though, I’ve spent much more time peering into the neighboring stretches of the Willamette River. Regarding this week’s headlines about who should be allowed to use the lake, I must admit to have “no dog in this fight.” I will say, though, and maybe it’s because I grew up with Tom McCall’s bold assertion that Oregon beaches belonged to the people, and my exposure to our navigable rivers, that private lakes seem odd to me in the middle of public property and a town. While I respect the concerns and rights of homeowners, it still seems antithetical to what I think of as Oregon.

It did cause me to look back at the history of the lake, even that from before my grandparents’ time: the history decades before their paddle. One of my most popular blogs, A Story HIdden in the Mist, describes the log loading station (or log hoist) for Crown Willamette Paper Mill (you should read it if you haven’t). The hoist’s remnants today lie just south of the visible furnace relic of the Oregon Iron Company and the footbridge that crosses Lake Oswego’s Sucker Creek. The creek is the outlet from what we call Oswego Lake now, and Sucker Lake then. The Indigenous Peoples of this Place were the Clackamas, and they referred to the lake as Waluga (“wild swan”) named after birds they hunted. The town was founded in 1847 by Albert Durham who named Lake Oswego after his New York State hometown and built a sawmill on Sucker Creek. The town’s boom was in the late 1860s as the Oregon Iron Company is said to have hoped to be something like the “Pittsburgh of the West.” (Wow; that makes me shudder.) There was also hope back then to connect the Tualatin River through Sucker Lake to the Willamette, but completion of the Willamette Falls Locks disrupted the other more wieldly travel plan, although water does still travel from the Tualatin River through canals to the lake..

In 1961, my birth year and a few years before my family moved from Portland to nearby Wilsonville, the lake was renamed Lake Oswego, largely because it was believed Sucker Lake would be unappealing to new residents. Too bad; it would be far less confusing I say to have the town named differently than the lake! For decades, it was asserted that the lake was private. But from there, the history seems to get both confusing and controversial. Don’t quote me on the exact details here and I simply share the broader picture of what has happened over time. One early decision asserted that the water in the lake was public property while the land around it was owned by private landowners. Then there were the years where no trespassing signs became popular, and city council determined others could not lawfully enter the lake from the few surrounding public parks. It had been determined that the lake was a non-navigable waterway, and thus it could be private with the Lake Oswego Corporation attesting the lake isn’t a natural lake anyway, but an artificially-expanded power reservoir. Lawsuits followed, and a recent Oregonian article informs us about both a recent court decision and an appeal. Earlier this month it was ruled that the current ordinance restricting public access to the lake is unlawful, and that access to the lake must be allowed immediately from its four adjacent parks, including Millenium Plaza Park, which is visible from HIghway 43 or State Street.

In the few weeks since the ruling, an appeal has been made. Perhaps I’d feel differently if I were an owner with lakefront property, although I hope not. Yes, I think it’s time to move on and use time and energy to address other far more significant political issues. Just my two cents, in case you were curious. I still wish the lake had its original name. Sucker Lake. Just saying.

Related books and blogs
My Music Man
A Story Hidden in the Mist
Old Times at Ocean Park and other stories
The Chief Factor returns