By Finn J.D. John
August 1, 2022
IN THE FIRST month of 1852, everyone in the frontier community of Cynthian was talking about the big crime wave.
Well, it was big by frontier Oregon standards. Although it was (and still is) the seat of Polk County, Cynthian — which was renamed Dallas later that same year — was a tiny place, with no more than a few hundred residents.
But, it seemed, one of those few hundred people was a burglar, and had hit three different homes over the previous few months.
Folks around Cynthian had a suspect in mind, or at any rate they later claimed they did. Their suspicions centered on a laborer named Return Everman.
Return Everman and his brother Hiram were new arrivals in town, having traveled to Cynthian on the Oregon Trail the previous summer, and were living with the Goff family on their homestead claim as hired hands. The community’s impressions of the two were mixed — everyone seems to have gotten along very well with Hiram, but Return had a more squirrely reputation.
So nobody was very surprised when, in January of 1852, Return was spotted sneaking out of Cyrenius C. Hooker’s farmhouse when the family was away. And when Hooker came back home, and found that the unknown burglar had struck again, he was not slow to point the finger at Return Everman.
There wasn’t any proof. Everman, it later turned out, had hidden the pocket watch he’d stolen from the Hooker home under a log by Rickreall Creek, and he stoutly denied having done the burglary.
But Hooker didn’t back down. And Everman was afraid to back down. He figured that most of the community believed him to be innocent, but he thought if he tried to patch things up with Hooker, they’d interpret that as evidence of a guilty conscience and turn against him.
So he decided it would be best if he just went ahead and, well, murdered him.
“I would rather the news would get home that I had killed a man for trying to injure my character, than for news to go home that I had stolen a watch,” he wrote later, in his written confession.
Having decided to do this, he started talking about it very openly. He told his brother Hiram, as well as Samuel Goff (his boss, the owner of the farm at which he and Hiram were living and working) and another friend named David J. Coe. Nobody seems to have taken the threat seriously, though.
A few weeks went by, and a group of the neighbors decided to put together a party for a journey south to the gold fields — the gold rush was still in full swing in ’52, of course. Hiram Everman was going with them, along with Goff and Coe … and Hooker. Because Hooker was going, Return Everman refused to join them.
One of the other men joining the party was a Yamhill County man named Enoch Smith. There was no love lost between Hooker and Smith, and when Smith heard Return Everman bragging about his plan to murder Hooker, Smith urged him to go for it and offered to pay him $250 if he did. At that point Hiram Everman, Return’s brother, broke in and told Smith to shut up and keep his money to himself. The whole exchange was witnessed by several of the others — nobody made any attempt to keep it secret. Most likely everyone thought it was all hot air, just a couple of big-talking men bragging.
Everyone, that is, except Return Everman, who decided that with Hooker on his way to the gold fields it was now or never. So on the morning of Feb. 12, as all the members of the party of prospectors packed for the road, he hurried off to a friend, borrowed a shotgun, and went to Hooker’s farm with it.
HOOKER WAS PLOWING a field when Everman arrived. Why he was plowing the field on the morning of his departure, in the middle of a soggy Oregon February, isn’t clear; perhaps he had hired someone to work the land for him and was getting it ready. In any case, that’s what he was doing, so Everman stole around into a rail pen at one end of the field, hunkered down, and waited for Hooker to reach him.
When Hooker did, Everman shot him in the back with the shotgun.
He then hurried over to his victim, who, recognizing him, started begging for his life and promising never to say another word about the watch. But Everman, according to his later confession, thought that having started the job, it would be best to finish it; so he pulled his pistol and shot Hooker in the head with it.
Then he headed back to the Goff house.
He found it empty. Everyone was already on the road, including the man Everman had borrowed the shotgun from. So he hurried after the party and caught up with them at their camp, at the end of the day’s ride, and returned the shotgun.
“Where have you been?” someone asked him, and Everman replied that the deed was done, and Hooker was dead.
That must have been quite a shock, as all the people Everman had been bragging to for weeks about his murderous plans suddenly realized the man had been serious about it.
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