Rev. Clinton Kelly continued to preach and to work with the aid of his wife, so that his entire salary might go for books. His cash receipts for an entire year often fell below five dollars in coin. At the time of their marriage Mrs. Moriah Kelly had twelve dozen pairs of socks which she had spun and knitted and these were exchanged for broadcloth for a suit for her husband. He was a man of plain and simple tastes and habits but a hard worker, never idle for a moment When political strife divided the Methodist church he decided to move to the west, built wagons, gathered his belongings together and in the fall of 1847 started for Oregon with his brothers Albert and Thomas. The first night out after reaching Independence, Missouri, in a hailstorm the cattle stampeded and Albert Kelly was compelled to remain behind in an effort to regain his cattle, all of which had been lost in the stampede. The ever generous nature of Clinton Kelly is indicated by the fact that on this occasion, realizing the great loss sustained by his brother, he insisted on giving him liberal financial aid. The toilsome journey of six months was made with ox teams over burning sands and cragged mountain ranges. In the fall they arrived at Oregon City, the capital of the provisional government of Oregon. The Methodist church had already established a mission at this point and the place was partially fortified against Indians. The sturdy Kelly boys soon found work getting out timbers for George Abernethy, the provisional governor.
An incident narrated by Plympton Kelly lent variety to their lonely life; it was in regard to the coming of the first territorial governor, General Joseph Lane. The new governor was expected on a certain day and great preparations were made for his reception. Everybody was on the alert when a canoe was sighted coming up the river. At nearer range it was observed to be paddled by Indians and carrying a white man. When without hailing distance a man on shore called through his hands: "Is Joe Lane in that canoe?" A form rose in answer and shouted back: 'Tin the man!" The guns boomed a joyous welcome and the air rang with acclamations of delight as General Lane stepped on shore. The new governor dined with the old that day and everybody rejoiced that "The Oregon Country" was at last a regularly organized territory' of the United States over which "the stars and stripes" spread its protecting folds.
The Grim Messenger did not forget Clinton Kelly in the new land—came often enough to preserve in his heart a God-like tenderness. That winter two promising boys, Calmet and Bengal, were laid under the sod of Green Point, hushed to their long slumber by the music of the Willamette. In the spring the family moved to a cabin on the James B. Stevens place on the bank of the river opposite Portland, then merely a few log shanties. Later in the same season Mr. Kelly bought the right of a previous homesteader to six hundred and forty acres of what was afterward known as the Clinton Kelly Donation Land Claim, lying two miles east of the river, for which he was to pay fifty dollars. There was a log hut on the place and a few acres partly cleared. He sowed all the cleared land to turnips, raised a big crop and paid for his claim that year.
In the course of time an immense log house rose on the site now occupied by the Williamson Sanitorium. The log house was a landmark for many years. It was running over with people during the Indian troubles of 1855 and 1856, farmers hurrying in well armed, expecting an attack. It gave place to a frame dwelling from which Clinton Kelly passed out into the Life Eternal, in the year 1875. The present structure was built by his son-in-law. Captain J. W. Kern, who died some years ago.
Toiling for his daily bread, the subject of this sketch never forgot the charge Divinely given in his far-off Kentucky home—to preach a gospel of love wherever he went. He preached it most forcibly in his life. At different times he filled preaching appointments at Portland, Alilwaukie, Oregon City, Fosters. Mount Tabor and other places. In 1849 he preached the first sermon ever delivered in Portland, the meeting being held in a cooper shop in the vicinity of what is now Front and Stark streets, on which occasion nearly the entire population
