The Hundred-Year-Old House

James E. Breed was an upstanding but unfortunate man.

Exactly a century ago, he built the house I’ve lived in for the last twelve years. This is the story of his life, and of those who lived with him in this house.

James' father was a civil war soldier, imprisoned at Andersonville. Their male lineage went back to the owners of Bunker Hill, also known as Breed’s Hill, infamous battle site of the Revolutionary War. 

Restless, James Purington Breed had gone west to Illinois in 1859 and taken a job with American Express there after the war. James Edward Breed was born in Chicago in 1877, the second of four sons. He went into the credit business, and was a bachelor until his thirtieth year.

Olive F. and James P. Breed, James' parents

James (left) and his three brothers

James Edward Breed and two brothers

Helen Vincent Stanton was born in Jeffersonville, Indiana, in 1873, to Florence Lyon Stanton and Charles Benjamin Stanton. At the time of her birth her parents lived in a highly unusual octagonal house built by Florence’s father. They were well off – Charles had attended Amherst College – and Helen, her sister and two brothers were all educated in Europe, where Helen took up the violin. Her father’s work in the insurance industry took them persistently west, and the family relocated from Indiana to Western Springs, Illinois, when she was a toddler.

At the age of twenty Helen married Lorin Andrews Etter, a railroad agent with the West Shore Fast Freight Line. Their marriage was an unhappy one; when their son Sidney was six years old she filed for divorce, and Lorin died of consumption in Denver less than a year later.

While her parents remained in Illinois, Helen and her son stayed nearby. It was there that she became acquainted with the young credit man, James Edward Breed, who was some years her junior and still unmarried. He was tall and slender, with blue eyes and dark hair. They formed an attachment and were married in 1906 when her boy was twelve years old, and within a year they were blessed with a daughter, Helen Vincent Breed.

Little Helen was less than a year old when both James’ and Helen’s parents pushed further west, the Breeds to Portland, Oregon, and the Stantons to Tacoma, Washington. James and Helen, along with their two children, relocated to Tacoma alongside her parents.

In Tacoma the Breeds took up residence at 1206 South Tyler Street, just two doors away from Helen’s family, who were at number 1216. Helen’s two unmarried siblings, John and Mary, lived with their parents at the ages of 36 and 34, respectively, and John worked as a manager at the Fidelity and Guarantee Company.

The Stanton family were members of the Christian Scientists and John was clerk for the new Tacoma chapter – John wrote a “dear beloved leader” letter to the church’s founder Mary Baker Eddy informing her of their progress. Charles and Florence enjoyed a quiet life in retirement, engaging in reading and gardening. John found a chaste romance with a Miss Kate Derickson, daughter of an army captain. The fourth child, Victor, remained in Chicago with his wife.

In August of 1912, however, tragedy struck. Charles and Florence traveled by train to visit their son in Chicago, but on the return trip Florence fell to the ground dead at the train station in Denver. It was thought that the altitude must have affected her heart. Her remains were brought back to Tacoma, but the family had little desire to remain in the town after her death. The Breed family, followed by the widower Charles, then John moved down to Portland. The Breeds took up residence at 1030 East Seventeenth Street North (now 4904 NE 17^th Ave), where James’ mother Olive was grieving her husband, who had died the year before.

Across the street from the Breed family lived a young widow named Leona Meadows Smith Czaia and her two children, teenaged Emmett and nine year-old Edith. Leona had recently been remarried to a man named Charles G. Czaia, a waiter at the downtown Benson Hotel. Emmett and Sidney became fast friends, being of similar age and sharing the burden of a step-father – though Czaia was a far cry from James Breed, having recently pled guilty to the crime of contributing to the delinquency of a minor girl.

As soon as Emmett graduated high school the two boys sought adventure together. In the spring of 1914, just as war was threatening in Europe, they each packed thirty pounds of camping supplies and obtained a letter of introduction from the mayor of Portland, H. Russell Albee. The Oregon Daily Journal wrote: “Sidney Etter of 1027 East Seventeenth Street North and Emmett Smith of 1030 East Seventeenth Street North, will leave Portland Monday on a hiking trip to Los Angeles. Their jaunt will be purely for pleasure, and time will be no object. It is possible that they may be able to go as far as New Orleans. Returning they will make their way to a seaport and work their way back.”

A week later the News-Review of Roseburg in southern Oregon wrote, “Two husky young boys arrived from Portland Saturday evening…and state that with the exception of a few lifts, they have walked the entire distance this far.”

The next that is known of the two boys is that Emmett Smith died in Los Angeles just over one year later; he was only nineteen. It is unclear if Sidney remained in California as long as Emmett, but he almost certainly attended his friend’s funeral at River View Cemetery in Portland. The cause of Emmett’s death has been lost to history.

When Emmett was buried the Breeds were already wearing black for seven-year-old Helen, who died at her parent’s home eight weeks before Emmett’s death. War had broken out, though the United States was not yet formally involved. The Breed family needed a change.

In the meantime, Southeast Portland was coming into its own. The little town of Sellwood, shortly downriver from Portland on the Willamette’s east side, had been officially incorporated in 1889. In 1903 a public ferry was established at the site of the current Sellwood bridge, encouraging traffic across the river. Between Sellwood and Portland was a swath of livestock farms divided by a north-south highway and Crystal Springs creek. Closer to the river, unpaved Milwaukie avenue paralleled the north-south streetcar rails to Sellwood.

The Ladd Estate Company, formed in 1907 partly to avoid legal trouble for the Ladd family of businesses, had come into possession of the Crystal Spring Farm. They donated forty acres for an academic institute on the east portion, now Reed College, and divided the grazing land into Westmoreland in 1909 and Eastmoreland in 1910.

Bybee overpass looking toward Eastmoreland, 1906

In 1910 the Oregonian wrote: “Rapid development of the large additions opened in the south East Side, and the large tracts to be opened during the ensuing year, demonstrate that Portland is extending south as well as north. Westmoreland, part of the Crystal Spring farm, opened late hast year, made remarkable progress. Out of the 700 lots in the addition a considerable portion have been sold, and about 40 attractive homes have been started.” The same article announces a plan to pave Milwaukie avenue.

Two months later the newspaper reported, “There is no mistaking the remarkable effect of the location of the Reed Institute in the South East Side. Of course the platting of the Crystal Spring Farm into Westmoreland and Eastmoreland was the beginning of a progressive movement, as this big farm had long stood in the way of development…Milwaukie avenue has at last subject to the control of the city for its entire length. Before, it was both a street and a country road, with the result that it was never in good condition. It will now be possible to have it paved to the end.”

Advertisements touted the benefits of the new Westmoreland neighborhood, which was designed for white collar workers commuting into Portland. Among them were “unexcelled beauty of surroundings,” “residents will pass through only the best parts of Portland to reach their homes,” “is lighted at night” and “electric light and telephone.” A minimum price for home construction in the addition – $1500 – provided “absolute assurance of high class homes.” Despite the fast-growing automobile trade, horses were widely used for transportation and Westmoreland’s sidewalks were dotted with iron rings to tether horses while visiting.

James Breed was doing well for himself. He continued his work in the credit industry with Rosenfeld-Smith Company tobacco, and was able to support his wife, stepson and mother. He had joined the local tennis league and taken up golf. The idea of a new home must have attracted him, and lured by advertisements he purchased Lot 17 of block 35 in Westmoreland in 1916.

Breed chose the plans for his house from Earl G. Cash, architect, and commissioned Ward & Moe as builders. Construction was begun in March of 1917, and on May 20, 1917, the Oregonian ran a photograph of the nearly-completed one and a half story frame structure at 1295 East 22^nd Street South, located about halfway between Claybourne street and Tolman street. The lots to either side were undeveloped, giving the small house a wide vista to the south, north and east toward Mt. Hood. Around this time Breed gave up his work with the tobacco company and began working with the Oregon Casket Company.

House under construction, May 1917

In late 1917 the Breed family moved into the home, which had a large first story, an unfinished basement and a finished attic with three large rooms and a bathroom. Also in 1917, James Breed and Sidney Etter were required to register for the draft. The United States entered the war, and Sidney and his uncle, Captain C.W. Breed, were sent to the fight.

Captain Breed wrote home to his mother, and she sent a sample to the Oregonian to be published. In it he describes a novel war machine, the tank, and the “grewsome” power of the weapon.

The younger man would never see combat, however. Though he had excelled in his aviation training, which was backed by two years in the Oregon Naval Militia, Sidney Etter was struck down by influenza shortly after arriving in Winchester, England. He died of the pneumonia at Easton Military Hospital in August of 1918 and was buried temporarily at Magdalen Hill Cemetery. In 1920 he, along with almost 500 of his compatriots, was exhumed and reburied at Arlington National Cemetery.

Temporary soldiers' graves at Magdalen Hill Cemetery in 1918. Sidney Etter's grave may be among these.

Now childless, James and Helen must have felt the house was too large for them. They remained, however, and continued to care for his mother for the next twenty-odd years. James was successful in the credit industry, developing a reputation for sense, morality and a creative flair. 

At credit association banquets he was frequently placed in charge of the entertainment and even filed copyrights for two plays, “Everycreditman” and “Friend Salesman,” comic allegories about the credit business. Helen played first violin in the Portland Amateur Orchestral Society and often provided music for James’ credit dinners. 

James played tennis and golf in Westmoreland and even participated in the inaugural tournament at the new Eastmoreland golf course. Olive was a frequent contributor of recipes to local publications.

In 1924 houses were built to either side of the Breeds as the neighborhood continued to fill in. An open area just to the south of the home (now Westmoreland Park) was flat and treeless and at the end of WWI had been used as an airfield – the Breed family must have frequently heard and seen planes coming low overhead as they swept in for landing. With construction of an alternative airport to the north of town, the field was used as a practice area for Eastmoreland’s golf course. In 1935 local citizens planned a park complete with tennis, lawn bowling and a casting pond which all still exist today.  

Bybee overpass looking toward Westmoreland, 1934

Construction of Westmoreland Park casting pond, 1939. Bybee overpass in the distance.

McLoughlin "superhighway" looking toward Milwaukie, 1937

Olive Breed in later life

Olive died in 1942 at the age of 89. In 1948 James passed away of heart disease, followed by Helen in 1953. Both the Breeds were cremated, and to my knowledge have no grave markers. The house passed into other hands, and if any later photographs of the family survive they are not available. The preceding, an impressive amount really, was drawn entirely from primary sources such as newspaper articles, census records, draft cards and grave stones.

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And so on the 100^th anniversary of the construction of this house, I’m thinking of the Breed family and grateful for their small presence in my life.