Elected through Terror

Untitled Part 29

Still driving south we drove across the county line into Jefferson County. There was another large field and a set of buildings about a half-mile down the road. He explained that this field was used for recreation, soccer, softball and other field games.

We drove around the field, still on the county road, to the buildings. I noticed two ambulances and was informed this was their medical clinic. He told me that it had examining rooms and an emergency room. I thought that was strange. Every other building was in Wasco County, why would they have their medical clinic in Jefferson County so far away from the rest of the buildings? The answer was to come to me in July; during the festival.

As we turned around he pointed to a paved road coming from the north, crossing the county road and leading away from the county road towards the south part of the ranch. He mentioned that the paving equipment was down that road to the south, but did not drive down it.

I knew that this was the road that Rajneesh is driving on when you see him going down the row of his followers as they lay flowers on the hood of his car.

The road was built after he got a couple of citations for driving without a license – of course hitting a concrete truck head on didn't help matters. He was not a very good driver.

So, since he liked to drive, the commune built this road for him. It was about 20 miles long and except for crossing the county road, it was all on their private property.

He drove me back to the police building. As I got out, he asked me if I would approve the festival permit, now. I told him I still had some concerns and they had not met all the conditions I had put down for it to be approved.

When he did that I would review them and then I would get back to him. He drove off in disgust.

I headed back to the office.

Almost four hours after radioing my office that I would be going into the valley, I was back on top and radioing that I was back in service. I did remember to thank God for his guidance and calming hand.

I was pleased by my exchange at the commune, but I knew they would be analyzing their tapes and every minute I was on the property; who knew what they might think they found.

On the way back, I stopped in at the ghost town of Shaniko, population 20, about 40 miles from the ranch. I had lunch at the Shaniko Hotel and met the new owners.

They were great people. He was a retired plumber from Salem, Ore. and had already done a lot of work on the Hotel, which had been built in the late 19th century and had been allowed to deteriorate to the point it had been uninhabitable; they were changing that fact.

He took me for a tour. The rooms were on the second floor. Rather than numbers he used names of local families.

Before he came there was just one bathroom to be used by the tenants. He had placed a bath in each room. They had created a honeymoon suite with a Jacuzzi bath and upscale fixtures.

They had cleaned up the foyer area and the outside of the building. They wanted to make it a destination type hotel for those people that wanted to get away from the hub bub of life and relax a bit.

They had a restaurant and had brought in a very good chef. They managed to last a few years, but their age and health worked against them. Also when you live in what is basically a ghost town, your choices for employees is limited.

While they had the hotel they went through several chefs and had to depend on employees from either Madras about 40 miles away or Maupin about 30 miles away. Both of these communities were small and that also limited his abilities to get good help.

Even though people are quite used to driving several dozen miles in that country, it is expensive – and they could get jobs closer to home. He had good clientele from around the area – but, again it was limited to people close by and it is not a very populated region. It wasn't enough to sustain the business and eventually he had to close the restaurant.

After a satisfying meal I headed back up to the office.

This trip was to be the first of many trips to the ranch. At that time I had no idea that it was to be one of the busiest times in Wasco County Sheriff's Office history, and indeed there would be one of the largest interagency investigations that up to that time had ever been held in the State of Oregon.

My first year was only two and a half months old, I had many things on my priority list; I had not expected the activities on the ranch would become priority one, but, in the fall of 1985, it did.