The Out of Towner

It is amusing to me that my Jacksonville friends now refer to me as the “out of towner.” I lived and worked in Jacksonville for thirty-four years before moving to Redlands, California in 1985. Jacksonville was designated a National Historic Landmark City in 1966, but that is not what makes my family’s property so special to me. Andrews Place is special to me because I grew up there as did my father, Andrew Owings.

Most of my family came from Missouri or Tennessee and settled in Jacksonville and Oregon City. Our family’s ties to Jacksonville go back to the 1850’s. The grave of Michael Fletcher who died in 1878 is inscribed simply, “A Jacksonville Pioneer.” My Grandfather, James J. Owings was a famed Rogue Valley photographer during the early 1900’s and much of his work was done in Jacksonville. He, along with many other members of my family, is buried in the Jacksonville Cemetery. The following is taken from the online records of the Jacksonville Cemetery and it lists a few of my relatives:

My Dad was named after his Grandfather Andrew Fletcher who farmed the property where Andrews Place is located. Andrew Fletcher, like Jacksonville, was named in honor of President Andrew Jackson. My great grandfather worked the land and occupied a farm house across the street from the proposed site of Andrews Place. On the west side of Third Street there are still remnants of his apple orchards.

My family has owned the property since 1949. My parents, Andy and Josephine Owings, bought the original 4½-acre parcel from R.W. Dahl for $1500 with only $10 down. After making the required payments they received deed to the property in 1953. According to my father the property was originally part of his grandparent’s homestead, which he often visited as a boy while growing up in Medford.

Andy and Jo bought the adjacent property in 1963; again with only $10.00, and after making the required payments, the title was recorded in 1966. Because banks were reluctant to loan money on Jacksonville property, owners of both parcels carried the mortgages for my parents. My father died in 1992 and my mother in 2000. My mother loved the property as much as my father and although she lived with my family in Redlands, California the last five years of her life, when asked where she was from she was quick to say she lived in Jacksonville.

Ironically, it was the land not the gold that drew my family to Jacksonville; however, today it is Jacksonville’s gold mining history which draws people to the town. As I grew up on the property, I always knew there were acres of gold in my back yard. Not the gold that the miners sought but a golden place to grow up, rich with golden oaks and many golden friendships.

Many of Jacksonville’s old time residents could be described as “characters” but they all had a special charm about them and plenty of real character. As a child I looked forward to my daily walk to school because I knew everyone on the street and the walk gave me a chance to talk to each of them. I have missed that connection to the community very much during my years in California.

Jacksonville has become a mecca for those yearning to live in a “real” community where neighbors are neighborly. This is ironic because most of them come from California and have no memory of what it is like to live in a “real” community.

Andy Owings was the quintessential neighbor. If you needed help all you had to do was ask Andy. He would give the shirt off his back even if it was his only shirt. He respected his neighbors even if he disagreed with them. Andrews Place will be a fitting legacy for his devotion to small town neighborliness.