Lonely At The Top

August, 1932. Mack Hall’s job had taught him it was lonely at the top.

Hall was not the commanding officer of a military operation or the CEO of a large industrial conglomerate. He was the Forest Service lookout on the summit of Mt. Hood, the twelfth man who had held that position since its construction by the legendary Lige Coalman in 1915.

Hall was not only lonely, he was hungry—for some fresh eggs. He told climber Paul Callicotte he would pay the exorbitant price of 35 cents for a dozen eggs if someone would bring them to him.

When 20-year-old Barney Young read the story in The Oregonian, he decided to come to the aid of the Forest Service lookout on Mt. Hood. Young was a bank messenger in Portland, and after work that day he headed for the summit.

He did not fill out an application for permission or check the appropriate OSHA regulations or make a phone call to some government agency in charge of fresh eggs or check to see whether he would be paid overtime.

At ten minutes to midnight he had climbed the mountain and was knocking on Hall’s cabin door, handing him a dozen eggs. Less than an hour later, Young left to descend the mountain, reaching the end of the road at Timberline at about 2:30 a.m. This had been his 12th climb of Mt. Hood.

Next morning, after one hour of sleep, he was back on the job, boasting to friends that he had not broken a single egg. Word got around, and by the end of the week climbers had brought Hall 13 dozen eggs. He sent down the message, “Enough eggs, already. Thanks, but what I really need now is a haircut. Will a barber please climb the mountain?”

It is not known whether this last request was granted. If Barney Young had been a barber instead of a bank messenger, Hall might have got his haircut. The next year, 1933, was the last season the summit cabin was used as a lookout station. It gradually deteriorated, and plans to rebuild it never materialized. Only a couple of wooden posts marked the site in 1975, and they’re probably completely gone now.

April, 2020: In preserving Sandy’s history, it’s important to realize that the pioneer spirit did not fade away when the last covered wagon had come across the prairies and
mountains and pulled its wheels out of the Oregon Trail.

And the pioneer spirit is not confined to building log cabins, cutting down forests, or using up all the salmon. It involves seeing a need or a challenge—sometimes even a whimsical one, like taking a dozen eggs to the top of Mt. Hood—and meeting it in creative, adventurous ways.

That’s what Lige Coalman did in 1915. That’s what Barney Young did in 1932. And that’s what the folks at the Sandy Historical Society are doing in 2020. If Barney Young were around today, I think he would drop by the Sandy Historical Museum and volunteer to help with the ongoing work of the Sandy Historical Society.

If nothing else, he could make a financial contribution. Maybe he’d call Ken Funk or Ann Marie Amstad at (503) 668-3378 and find out how to join the Society. Maybe he’d offer to bring a dozen eggs to the Society’s next picnic. You don’t have to climb a mountain to be a hero.