The Lost Towns of Harrison, Centerville, and Verboort

WashCo history is littered with abandoned communities and derelict train depots. In that respect, the locations on today’s ride are hardly unique.  My fascination with these places is that towns like Harrison and Centerville transformed from vitally important to thoroughly forgotten in less than a century. 

I'm covering these in historical order, not biking.

Centerville

When Centerville is discussed at all today, it’s usually depicted as Carthage to Hillsboro’s Rome, a near equal but ultimately supplanted rival.

Contrary to popular opinion, I don't think it was named Centerville based on equidistance to the other early communities.  Post office applications include maps and nearby communities, and Centerville’s earliest submission doesn't include Mountaindale or Greenville, which were probably insubstantial at the time.

Instead, “Centerville” was probably named due to its location in the township, an archaic surveyor unit that still plays a very important role in today's zoning and property laws. 

Supposedly, Centerville nearly usurped Hillsboro as the county seat in an election. I find that dubious; Hillsboro was better positioned to act as the commercial and cultural epicenter of the valley. Hillsboro was larger and positioned along both a navigable river and road to Portland. 

On the other hand, Centerville was well-situated for the north Tualatin Valley. Located on present-day Cornelius-Schefflin road (loud, busy, but with an ample shoulder) near the only bridge across Dairy Creek (a bridge still stands there today). To some extent, all WashCo roads led to Centerville. 

Locals attempted to capitalize on the location and transform into a minor trade hub. Blacksmiths, general stores, and saloons galore as they tried to develop the creek into a viable transportation corridor. 

It was never going to work. In it’s natural state, Dairy Creek is not passable in a river kayak. After dredging and vegetation removal, a few small steam-powered vessels made the journey...from Hillsboro. As the population of the valley boomed, Centerville stagnated. 

It took the railroad to finally kill Centerville. The Oregon Electric Railroad passed through Schefflin, about one mile northeast.

Schefflin

Unlike Centerville, Schefflin still appears on maps. I chalk that up to peaking late enough for the USGS to publish their surveys in the early 1900s. 

I can’t tell when the property transformed from agro estate to railroad boomtown but when the Oregon Electric Railroad opened (yes, it was originally electric, later downgraded to diesel), many of Centerville’s shops and people simply relocated. 

Unfortunately, the station was fairly short-lived. The tracks remain in use but the passenger service ended after about a decade. The shops closed; people moved away. 

Today, Schefflin is a handful of small farm properties on a cul-de-sac between Kerkman Road and the tracks. I biked past all the time but never recognized the historical significance. 

Still, compared to Harrison, 21st-century Schefflin is a booming metropolis.

Harrison

In my 12+ years of biking through Washington County, I have stopped dozens of times at a small cemetery just south of highway 26 for a water break and to watch model stunt planes perform. 

I had never known that I was standing on Harrison, a pioneer town until I searched the post office archives. 

The Harrison Cemetery is all that remains of the town. The headstones are a who's who of founding families: McKays, Johnsons, and Cornelius.

Harrison, itself, was slightly west of the cemetery. Based on the 1898 post office application, this is the town today:

I don't know what befell Harrison. The earliest map I reviewed from 1941 showed no buildings or development in the area. It was likely never that prominent but the nearby railroad, completed in 1911 could have been a lifeline. I suspect it killed it when the railroad put its stop at Vadis.

Vadis

Internet searches around historic Harrison, return another “town” name: Vadis. Unfortunately, there is no Vadis and there never was. Here's the city center: 

Vadis is another mirage town: a planned stop on the United Railway that failed to blossom into a community.

Today, there are commercial farmlands and a lumber mill located a little east of Harrison. The area is most notable to cyclists thanks to a brief unpaved stretch over the tracks (very passable on road tires, but use caution). 

It’s frustrating that a fake town like Vadis continues to appear on many maps while Harrison, the very real community where people lived and died, does not. That takes me to the final town of this ride, the one that survived with and without the railroad: Verboort and it’s apocryphal cousin Blanchet.

Verboort (and Blanchet)

Verboort was settled by mostly Dutch (via the Midwest) immigrants in the 1840s and formally named after pastor Verboort in 1870s. It’s neither grown nor shrunk much and windmills are still prominent. 

It’s most famous for the sausage and sauerkraut festival that I have yet to attend (I want to but artisanal food hasn’t been worth the rainy November bike ride). 

The catholic church is the focal point of the town, along with its sequoias representing the twelve apostles. The original burnt down in the 1940s; this is a restoration. 

As part of my research, I came across a post office application for an office called Blanchet. The applications give very exact geographic positions (so the mail deliverer knows where to go). Here’s Blanchet post office today, with Verboort visible in the background:

I think Blanchet was an alternate name for Verboort. The application lists several hundred people in the town but I see no other reference to Blanchet anywhere. Blanchet and Verboort must be the same.

Bikers: I don’t recommend the route I show here. Verboort Road is very busy with no shoulder—approach Verboort from the north or south. Don’t get me wrong: it’s legal to bike on any public road in Washington County (yes, even I-5) so ride where you please. That said, it may not be wise.