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49 °F Forecast | Road Cams Tuesday, May 11, 2004 Today's News | Classifieds | Autos | Homes | Jobs | Tempo | Health | Community | Home Delivery SECTIONS Home Page Local News Sports Business Obituaries Life Opinion - Politics AP News Weather Classified Archives Site Map EXTRA Newspaper in Education Personals Movie Times TV Times E The People CLASSIFIEDS Find a Car Find a Home Find a Job Find a Rental Place an ad eSouthernOregon Automotive Communities Entertainment Publications Recreation Calendar CUSTOMER SERVICE Frequent Questions Advertising Information Home Delivery Employment Contact Us Media Kit Network Affiliate Email Story to a Friend April 18, 2004 Family’s roots go as deep as its apple tree The old apple tree probably doesn’t look like much to most passersby. Under a thick green cloak of ivy, the trunk has grown gnarly. Some branches are dead and gray. But there are plenty of healthy green leaves in the apple tree surviving along Medford’s Siskiyou Boulevard near the eastern end of Portland Avenue. "That old tree means a lot to me," observes longtime Medford resident Velma Caster, 83. "I remember seeing it the day she died. It was one mass of blossoms. It looked like a big white cloud." That was in the spring of 1973 when her mother, Jessie Mae Brooks Newton Mason, passed away. An avid gardener, she had planted the tree in 1944 shortly after moving into the house. The tree was no yard ornament: planted by a survivor of the Great Depression, it was intended to provide another source of food should the lean times return. Advertisement "When mother moved to Medford in 1933, jobs were hard to find," Caster explains. After renting a small house, the family had only $25 left to survive. Caster’s mother, who was divorced, was raising her three children by herself. Caster’s brother got a part-time job at Western Union; Caster was hired as a clerk at the Woolworth’s Store in Medford when she turned 15. "About the only job mother ever had here was washing dishes," Caster recalls. "But she still managed to buy a house. "Of course, hamburger was only 10 cents a pound at the time," she adds. "We were able to survive." That survival was thanks to the family working together and an industrious mother. She grew a large garden and canned fruits and berries. "This was the deep Depression," Caster says. "She couldn’t even find work washing dishes. So she made pies that she gave to the neighborhood store in exchange for groceries." The family survived. Like the apple tree, her family has deep roots in Southern Oregon. Jessie Mae Brooks was born in Myrtle Creek in 1890, then raised in Canyonville where she learned to cook lip-smacking pies in a restaurant. "I still go back to visit the old place there at Canyonville from time to time," Caster says. "My grandfather planted an apple tree and plum tree there, over 100 years ago, it had to have been." Those trees are still producing fruit. She picked an apple and plum off them last year. Her mother planted the apple tree in Medford shortly after remarrying in 1943 and moving to the home on Portland Avenue. "Mother had grafted three different kinds of apples on it," Caster says. "I think they were yellow delicious and Gravenstein. I’m not sure about the third one." It grew strong and tall in the rich loam soil along Bear Creek. "I believe the top of it must be about 50 feet high now, don’t you?" Caster says as she looks up at the limbs competing for sunlight. Standing under the tree, you can hear the constant sound of Interstate 5 traffic rumbling nearby. There was no freeway when it was planted. Caster, who walks for exercise with a local group called the Striders, frequently walks past her mother’s green legacy. "I like to stop and check things out," she says. "It bloomed real well this spring. You see up there? It looks like there are some little fruit actually setting on." The plum tree her mother planted has become a mother tree. "Look at all these volunteer plums now," Caster says. "Mother planted the original. The rest came from that one." The area has changed since her mother planted the trees. Bear Creek was moved about 100 feet west following the 1964 flood which came up to the edge of the house. Back then, the trees were nearly on the banks of the stream. Now the boulevard runs between the trees and the creek. "Mother had the whole area back to the creek in flowers and gardens," she says. "Up there by where that subdivision is now, mother and I used to go up and pick blackberries by the gallon to make jams." Her mother’s efforts to survive didn’t stop with plants. "Mother always had a few chickens," she says. "She had one old hen she had trained to eat earwigs. I have a picture somewhere of mother stooped over, raising a rock so the old hen could get at the earwigs." She didn’t stop with a few chickens. "They got a runt pig and built a pen back behind the house," she says. "It was hidden behind the garage that was there then. That pig got so spoiled they had to scratch its back with a stick to keep it quiet so it didn’t wake the neighborhood." An avid gardener herself, Caster and her late husband, Orville, have four grown sons, all of whom are surviving like the apple tree. "They all build things together, not as a job but as a hobby," she says. "Their grandmother would be very proud of them. She was pretty handy with a hammer and nails herself." Just part of surviving, she adds. Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at [email protected] Mail Tribune Home Local News | Sports | Business | Obituaries | Life Opinion - Politics | AP News | Archives | Site Map E Southern Oregon | Classified Copyright © 1997-2004 Mail Tribune. 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