A Short Biography of Henry "Sam" Colvin

(based on information supplied by Edsel V. Colvin
and various sources)

Henry "Sam" Colvin was born on April 9, 1830 in Fallowfield Township, Washington County, PA, near the present-day town of Van Voorhis. His parents were Lott and Rebecca Stecher Colvin. Lott Colvin was the son of Vincent Colvin, Sr., a prominent farmer and landowner in Fallowfield Township. Rebecca Stecher was possibly the daughter of Henry or Abram Stecher of Fallowfield Township, although this is not confirmed.

He had an older sister, Elizabeth, who was born in 1825. She married William Spindler and they lived in the Pittsburgh area. His younger brother, Vincent, was born in October 1833, according to Washington Cemetery records in Washington, PA. There is no record of a marriage for Vincent and no wife is buried at the Washington Cemetery.

At the age of 6, Henry's father, Lott, "was killed by being thrown from his horse at the old sign-post of the Valley Inn." His mother was remarried sometime between 1837 and 1841 to the Rev. Abraham Weills, a Lutheran minister. A son, (Henry's stepbrother) Samuel David Newton Weills was born to them in 1842 and died at 1 month, according to a gravestone at the old Lutheran cemetery.

In March 1843, when Henry was 13, a Robert Love and Abraham Weills were appointed guardians of Elizabeth, Vincent, and "a minor under the age of 14 years". Vincent appears to be older than Henry in this case, but cemetery records indicate otherwise. Between 1845 and 1847, three stepbrothers were born, Frederick, Abraham, and Isaac.

The 1850 U.S. Census of Washington County, Pennsylvania lists Henry "Colven" as a 20 year-old male "labourer", possibly living with Abram (age 55) and Elizabeth (age 64) Stacher (Stecher). They could possibly be his maternal grandparents or his aunt and uncle. By this time, his mother and stepfather had moved to the city of Washington, PA, where the Rev. Weills had a ministry. Apparently Henry and his stepfather did not get along, as family legend has passed down from one of Henry's sons, Frank Colvin, who said that Henry left Pennsylvania because of a mean stepfather who used to beat him.

Henry was 22 when he crossed the Plains to California, and worked in mining camps as a blacksmith in the San Francisco area. He headed up the Sacramento River in 1856 to the Klamath River and down to the coast and Crescent City. From there he came up to Curry County, Oregon to help get settlers out of the Miner's Fort in Wedderburn, just north of present-day Gold Beach. They were trapped in the fort by hostile Indians, but by the time Henry got to the fort, the Indian War was over.

He is listed a member of the first jury list in Curry County in 1857.

By 1857, he had gone north to the Port Orford area where he got a contract with a sawmill to furnish hindquarters of 2 elk per week for the camp cook. He hunted in the Bald Mountain area and frequently saw herds of 100 or more elk.

Once while hunting elk he was camped and had tied his horse and mules to trees. Timber wolves came after them and got close enough to Henry's fire to be shot with a shotgun. Other wolves ate the dead wolves. Finally a hunting call came from a wolf across Elk River and the wolves left.

In 1860, he was listed in the U.S. Census of Curry County as "Samuel L. Colvin, Age 27, occupation hunter" living near Port Orford.

Back in Pennsylvania, his brother Vincent sold land to Abraham Weills, their stepfather, in 1863, according to land records in Washington County.

Land records in Curry County, Oregon, show that Henry possibly bought 12 acres for $120 from Daniel Morehouse in 1865. The next year he bought and sold land near the site of the present-day Mail Boat docks in Wedderburn, according to Vol. 2, pg. 356 in the Curry County Deed Book housed in the Courthouse in Gold Beach.

Photo of Sam and Miriam in the 1860s courtesy of Colvin Stevenson

Henry married Miriam Louisa Dougherty on February 10, 1867, when she was a couple months short of her 17th birthday. She was the daughter of Nathan and Lydia Rickard Dougherty, who were some of the earliest settlers of Tillamook in the early 1850's. Miriam was born in a covered wagon near the Idaho-Nevada border at a place called Thousand Springs while her parents were on their way from Orange County, Indiana.

They possibly lived for a short time in Gold Beach (then called Ellensburg), as their son Henry Lott Colvin said in a newspaper article that he was born there. (See Oregon Journal article by Fred Lockley.) They then settled on what became the Jesse Turner farm and still later known as the Flynn Ranch, across the creek from the Hunter Creek Grocery. Two other men owned adjoining property, and forced Henry and his young family off the land that he had cleared by filing claims at the Land Office in Roseburg on all three parcels of land. There have been no documents found to prove this claim passed on by his son Frank, but the name Anton Delafont (sp?) was mentioned with much anger. It would be interesting to find the papers that were filed in that Land Office in Roseburg. Frank Colvin was born there in 1882 and three years later the Colvin family moved up Hunter Creek to what is now known as the Leith Place, but called "the Old Home Place" by the family.

Henry and Miriam had 10 children between 1868 and 1890, five boys and five girls. The sons and daughters were:

1) Henry Lott Colvin born in 1868. He remained in Gold Beach all his life and never married.

2) Anna Laura Colvin Melville Dye (she went by Laura), born in 1870. She first married Jock Melville, then Ed Dye. She had four children.

3) Lewis Vincent Colvin, born in 1872, married Florence Wheelock and lived in Waldport, Oregon.

4) Lydia Louise Colvin Olsen, born in 1874 and married to James Olsen. She lived for a time in Langlois and Gold Beach. Her husband left her, and she moved to Portland, where she died during the flu epidemic of 1920.

5) Mary Alida Colvin Spangenberg Boyle, born in 1878 and married Fred Spangenberg and later Ed Boyle. She lived in Lakeview, Oregon.

6) George Washington Colvin, born in 1880 and lived his adult life in Waldport.

7) Frank DeLong Colvin, born in 1882, and except for short periods away, lived his life in Gold Beach. He married Estella Jane Miller, who died in 1924. He married Inez Hayes in 1952.

8) Ellen Etta Colvin Johnson, born in 1884. She married Tom Johnson, a sea captain, and moved to Harbor City, California.

9) Clara Elizabeth Colvin Bauer, born in 1887 and married Fred Bauer. They lived in Eugene, Oregon.

10) David Marion Colvin, born in 1890. He was captain of supply boats that ran between Portland, Gold Beach, and San Francisco.

Old Sam

(Henry "Sam" Colvin)

By Elma Ismert, former neighbor of Sam

The white-haired old man climbed the apple tree. He had a small saw tied to his belt with a light rope. On the other end of the rope, sitting on the ground, was a pail containing a small bundle of rags tied to a stick. Watching the old fellow one's eyes were attracted to a large blob near his head. A closer look proved this to be a seething, humming mass of bees- a swarm. For it was May and the bees were hatching so fast in the hives that they were being crowded out to make room for more.

The bees which were pushed out gathered this way in blobs around a queen bee on branches, to rest and get their bearings. Usually by the following day scout bees had found a hollow tree or some kind of new home for them.

Now, Old Sam, for that is what everyone called him, was not one to let a good swarm of bees get away. Consequently, he had made the usual preparations; made a hive, tied a wad of rags on a stick, which he would light later and blow smoke on the bees to stupefy them, and got the pail and all ready. He did not bother with a bee veil. Now that he was within reach he gave the bees the smoke treatment. He carefully held the pail close under the bees, gave the branch a thump which dislodged most of the bees into the pail, then, letting himself down, he dumped the bees into the new hive, put the cover on, set the hive back out of the way and put things away until later.

Old Sam was not through with this box of bees, but he could not do what he had planned until dark when he could go out and tack a piece of screen over the entrance to the hive. Even then he would not be through with the job.

In the meantime he took his methodical way about the place, examining the new grafts he had put in the seedling apple trees; they were starting to send out leaves. He next checked on the big doe and her two brand new spotted fawns, then came back to the house, gave the dog a new bone to chew and went in to sit and smoke.

Miriam, his dark-haired wife, sat sewing on blocks for a crazy quilt. She must have made a dozen or more after the same design. The quilt pieces were all shapes, colors, and sizes, but ever so neatly put together and then fancy stitches in bright colored threads worked over each seam. She said she was giving one to each of her ten children, most of whom were married and gone from home.

Old Sam sat smoking, teasing the cat now and then by pulling its tail when it came up to be petted. Finally he said,"Old woman, haven't you got some milk for the cat?"

Miriam did not answer at once and he repeated more forcefully, "Old woman! I axed ye a question. Have ye got milk for the cat?"

She looked up from her sewing and answered rather sharply, "If you had to milk that old cow you would let the cat eat mice instead of milk," and went back to her sewing. This did not mean that she would deny the cat milk, but only give it when she was of a mind to.

Summers were pleasant along the creek in those days. Much good company came on Sundays from the town. One Sunday my two brothers and I went down the trail through the woods to visit Old Sam and his wife. He was in a mischievous mood that day.

One of his daughters, with her husband and children, were spending the day. She had the same true blue eyes as Old Sam, but his had a twinkle in them like no one else. He thought a lot of this daughter and stepped up beside her putting his arm around her so lovingly. But she jumped away with a loud "Ouch!" Old Sam had held a thistle sticker in his fingers and stuck her with it even as he hugged her!

But to get back to the bee story--The day after he had hived the new swarm, he got up and dressed, went out and caught up "Old Dan", an ancient black saddle horse, and saddled him up. He then strapped the box of bees (which he had made safe with a piece of screen) into the backpack harness (called an Alaskan packsack), put it on his back and, climbing on Old Dan, crossed the creek and rode up a steep two-mile trail to give the bees to his friend and neighbor. The neighbor had only recently moved into the hills with a large family and was struggling for a foothold and an honest living. It was said he didn't have much of anything but kids. Old Sam rode up by the porch, slipped the pack off his back and set it over on the porch and dismounted. This was no easy performance for the good old man as he was around 85 years of age and troubled with a hernia. However, he did not complain but just said, "There's a swarm of bees for ye. You take care of them, catch the swarms each year and take out the honey and you won't want for the best sweetening in the world."

Another incident comes to mind when the same daughter and family spent the day at Old Sam's.

There were other folk also among them, a young man, a stranger. My two youngest brothers and I had gone down again and were enjoying the chance to see and talk with people, which we had so little chance to do where we lived farther back in the hills.

Well, Old Sam was watching his chance to joke and tease and this time he picked on me. Coming up close to me, he said, "How do you like his looks, Girlie?", referring to the young man. I was embarrassed and did not say much so he said, "Well look him over good, and if you like his looks I will put a halter and rope on him so you can take him home with ye."

Many are the stories we were told about Old Sam, he and Miriam telling some of he most interesting ones themselves. How he left home when he was a small boy and got a job as horse boy on the Erie Canal. Later when he grew up he worked on a Mississippi River boat and during an epidemic carried many sick men off the boat in his arms. [Editor's note: Just as Sam was a teaser and a joker, he was probably just as much of a yarn-spinner and may have elaborated on the truth a bit at times. There is nothing to prove or disprove the Erie Canal and Mississippi River exploits of Sam, except the 1850 Census, which places him in Fallowfield Township, Pennsylvania at the age of 20. He may have done these things before and after that date, but unless there is some documentation, we can't be sure.]

Did I mention his snow-white beard? He always wore a beard. One of his granddaughters told me how she and her sisters braided ribbons into his beard while he lay on his back on the floor just to amuse them.

And then one winter when the creek was flooding his final call came. He passed away in the little homestead house, his wife and oldest son caring for his last needs, and was buried on the spot he had selected looking over his beloved apple trees and the creek. Good Old Sam!