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FROM THE HEARTS OF VALSETZ
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VALSETZ
NESTLED DOWN IN THE COAST RANGE LIES A LITTLE LUMBER TOWN.
IT LIES IN THE HEART OF THE MOUNTAINS AND THE WINTER RAINS BEAT DOWN,
DAY AFTER DAY UNENDING ON THAT BUSY LITTLE TOWN.
IT KNOWS NO CHANGE NO HURRY,AND THE TURBULENCE SWIRL OF WAR
MAY RUFFLE ITS PEACE IN PASSING. A RUFFLE ,NOTHING MORE.
YEAR AFTER YEAR REPEATING SPRINGTIME,SUMMER AND FALL.
THE ALDERS WAVE BY THE RIVER,AND THE CHITTUM DRIES ON THE WALL.
I'VE BEEN FROM THE GREAT MOUNTAINS, THROUGH THE ROLLINGS PLAINS OF WHEAT.
STILL I YEARN FOR THE BOTTOM SIDEWALKS AND THOSE DRY DUSTY STREETS.
IN THE SUMMER THE RAINS DO CEASE AND THE EAST WINDS START TO BLOW,
DUST CLOUDS ROLLUP IN CHOKING CLOUDS AND EVERYONE IS ON THE GO.
OUT IN THE TWILIGHT THERE IS A GRAY GHOSTLY FOG, FROM OUT ACROSS THE OLD MILL POND COMES THE SONG OF THE OLD BULLFROG.
DREAMING, ALL OF US DREAM AND NO MATTER WHERE I ROAM I DREAM OF OLD VALSETZ, A PLACE I CALL HOME
SONNY EAMONS
TAKE A BREAK, E-MAIL SOMETHING
Jerry Blackwell
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IN A VALLEY WITH TREES SO GREEN WHERE THE WATER RUNS SO BLUE AND CLEAN.
THERE IS SMALL RIVER CALLED SILETZ, NEAR BY IS THE SMALL MILL TOWN CALLED VALSETZ. AFTER LIVING IN THIS SMALL TOWN, THE SECRETS OF IT BEING SO CLEAN AND GREEN WAS SOON FOUND.
THE SECRET BECAME SO VERY PLAIN, IT'S VALSETZ RAIN.
ON SPRING MORNINGS AS OF MANY DAYS OF THE YEAR, YOU AWOKE TO HEAR
THE PITTER PATTER OF RAIN AS IT DANCED UPON THE ROOF.
ALL DURING THE DAY YOU WOULD HEAR THE PITTER PATTER OF RAIN DANCING UPON THE ROOF.
AT NIGHT YOU MIGHT FALL OFF TO SLEEP TO THE PITTER PATTER OF RAIN DANCING UPON THE ROOF.
THAT VALSETZ RAIN COULD ALSO BE A PAIN IN THE BUTT, AS IT DANCED UPON THE ROOF.
VALSETZ
I REMEMBER
I remember the sixteen miles of scary curves,log trucks, and cars; the mud and snow in winter, dust come summer,and last stops at Falls City's bars.
I remember the stop on top of the hill, seeing the beauty laying at your feet.
The drink of tasty cold water from cold springs would make worth while the sixteen mile trex.
I remember the rain beating down on the roofs, streets, and heads of all. The rain struck like liquid bullets, striking hard
and fast, or like fine mist from the surf of
the Pacific Ocean after hitting a jetty wall.
I remember rain made playing football fun.
Rain made mud ,so you slide about as far as you run.
I remember our football field was the biggest mud hole of all.
The Home Coming game, the biggest Mud Bowl of the Fall.
I remember the old smoke shacks thru-out the mill,were our safe-havens from the rains.
Also places for messing around and playing silly games.
I Remember the school teachers, the good, bad, funny and the sad.
Some could make me think, others made me think how sad they were,maby even mad.
I remember the teachers fooled and pranks pulled.
The spuds put in car exhaust pipes,rolling tires down the hill, timed to strike the out-house wall as the teacher took her seat.
I remember I owe apologizes for these tricks and deceits
I remember Halloweens, door-to-door for candy and goodies galore.
Shoving the out-house over next door.
I remember having to share our indoor room with the neighbours until theirs was restored.
I remember Turkey Shoots, school,church parties,the Hunters and Fishermen Balls and of course the Rec Hall.
Not just adults but the kids had a ball.
I remember so many things about Valsetz and it's people,I could write endless pages until I reach those pearly gates.
But yet I remember not one name from Valsetz that won't appear on Saint Peter's acceptance slates.
.
From The Valsetz Star by Ron Fowler
Jerry Blackwell
We will fight,fight, fight for old Valsetz High, the pride of all the west.
We will shout out the story,we will shout out the glory of the
school we love the best.
So fight,fight, fight for victory,send our colors high.
We will always cheer, we will always fight for the honor of old Valsetz High.
VALSETZ SCHOOL SONG
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VALSETZ RAIN
