Karshner Memorial Museum

Website Links

Description

Author Warner "Bearkiller" Karshner, left, and an older brother Gerard "Gearhart" Karshner pose for a studio portrait not long after their arrival in Puyallup in 1888. H. Sierdert Photograph, Puyallup Read Dr. Warner M. Karshner's true saga of the boy they called "Bearkiller". Written in 1940 and now published for the first time, Bearkiller is the true saga of author Warner Melvin Karshner, Founder of the Paul H. Karshner Memorial Museum and revered pioneer physician, legislator, and civic leader in Puyallup, Washington - nicknamed "Bearkiller" as a child. "Bearkiller" is the story of the Karshner family's life and journey from a comfortable home in Fremont, Ohio in 1878 to a dugout on the plains of Kansas and on to the western Washington Territory. They homesteaded along the Wynoochee River on the site of the Olympic National Forest before moving to Puyallup in the 1880's. Father John Karshner, a passionate frontiersman and advocate of hard work, drove his wife, Louisa, and their six children into incredible adventure. One wonders how they survived. Excerpts "Near the tile factory was a great hole where clay had been excavated. This pit was perhaps a hundred feet long, twenty feet wide, and seven or eight feet deep, and lay close to and parallel with a strong rail fence. After a heavy rain it partly filled with water, making an ideal mudhole for swimming. "One Sunday we were there with other boys enjoying the water. We decided to call the pigs, drive them into the narrow lane between fence and pool, then close in, forcing the swine to jump into the pond. Accordingly, the pigs were rounded up and . . . our gang of dancing, yelling boys forced the hogs to jump. "Plunging from the high bank, they sank from sight in the muddy water . . . not a pig was visible. We had assumed that the animals would swim out, but they did not swim. Thoroughly scared by this time, we slid out of our clothes and made ready to rescue the pigs. Finally the poor, half-drowned things began to appear at the far end of the puddle. They had waded out." "Gun-toting was then in vogue on the frontier, and schools offered no exceptions, so I traded for an antique, muzzle-loading cap and ball pistol that I carried at my side in a home-made holster. The weapon was so large and cumbersome that I could barely bend my hip. When in school, my leg was shoved sideways . . . extending down the aisle . . . During the noon recess, schoolboys engaged in pistol practice, lining up . . . taking turns to see who was the best shot."

Products & services