Craggy, weather-beaten Claude L. Fallwell had lived a
full life, and he wanted a full epitaph. Now past 70, he had crossed
the country in a covered wagon, been cowboy, cook, farmer, fruitgrower,
preacher and proprietor of a farmers' market. Fallwell ambled down to
the La Grande Evening Observer and asked how much
it would cost to buy enough space to tell his whole story. He finally
settled for a two-column want-ad a week, at $15 for each ad.Last week Fallwell's “epitaph” was the publishing sensation of
northeastern Oregon. Reader response to the first installments of
Boyhood Experiences of the Old Man from the Country overwhelmed the
Observer: total strangers were clipping out the columns and business at
Fallwell's Half-Way Market was at an alltime high.Fallwell's classified “classic” stretched from Texas to Oregon, with
bullfights, treacherous river-fordings, antelope hunts and climatic
disturbances at every turn in the road—and the grammar was sometimes
tired after the strenuous trip. Last week's installment had carried the author only up to
the age of eleven. But Publisher Frank Schiro would have no objections
if Autobiographer Fallwell outrecalled Thomas Wolfe.
