Oregon Public Broadcasting

The Oregon Historical Society is floating a bond measure in this year’s election. And to try and generate support for the idea, it's giving a few people the grand tour of a secret warehouse.

Kristian Foden-Vencil caught a glimpse of what it holds, and files this report.

On a non-discript street in Gresham stands a large unmarked warehouse.

It belongs to the Oregon Historical Society and visitors are asked not to disclose its precise location. That's because it contains a collection of state artifacts and the society is wary of thieves.

Inside the front door, facilities director Dick Matthews unpacks a small instrument.

Dick Matthews: "It is a button accordion and it came across the Oregon Trail in 1846. And this is out of our exhibit Oregon My Oregon."

George Vogt: "So for the first time in 150 years we're hearing this accordion."

Dick Matthews: "I'm not going to make it on 'Stars of Tomorrow' but."

The wood, paper and leather contraption crackles as it's pumped. But it's in remarkable condition for something that last entertained a family perhaps as it sat under the stars high, in the Rockies, on the Oregon Trail.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The reason I've been invited to the warehouse is that the Multnomah County Board of Commissioners has decided to put a five-year, $10 million levy on the ballot.

The money will go to the Oregon Historical Society, which has spent all its savings and is trying to keep its museum and research library open.

If passed, the levy would add a nickel per $1,000 of assessed value to property taxes.

Society executive director, George Vogt says that's about $10 a year for the average-value home.

If it passes, Multnomah County residents would be allowed into the historical society’s museum for free, instead of paying the current $11 charge. And if the levy doesn't pass?

George Vogt: "We're at a point now where we have run-through our unrestricted cash, patching a hole, and are at the bottom of the barrel. And if this measure doesn't pass, we're going to have to begin closing facilities in 2011."

The society's board of directors hasn't said whether will cut budget lines for the museum, the research library or some aspect of the warehouse.

The state used to provide up to 40 percent of the historical society’s budget. Between 2003 and 2007 that dropped to zero.

It did receive $312,000 from the last legislature, but that only represents about 8 percent of its budget

Books of old fire insurance records from downtown Portland.

There doesn’t appear to be any organized opposition to the bond. But Don McIntire, with the Taxpayer Association of Oregon, says any time someone tries to increase property taxes, people should take a second look.

Don McIntire: "I believe in academia. And I believe in the preservation of history. But I'm opposed to this idea because it's sloughing the cost of something that's worthwhile onto the backs of property taxpayers simply because they're there and it can be corralled there."

Meanwhile,  the society is using its collection to draw a little attention to its plight.

George Vogt: "We're going into the main storage area of the facility....."

Vogt opens the door to a massive warehouse where lines of shelves stretch into the distance.

To the right, a whole room is filled with shiny round cans of old film.

To the left are racks of massive books, which when opened, fill an entire desktop. These are the old fire insurance records for downtown Portland.

Then there are other areas that defy classification.

Film cans stored in the Oregon Historical Society's warehouse.

George Vogt: "On this table we have some of the Yasui Brothers collection. The Yasui Brothers ran a general merchandise store in Hood River and the faimily was interred in World War II. When they closed the store down, they gave us basically everything."

He points to their account books, calendars and signs, all held by the Society since the 1940s.

There's even a vault within this vault -- where priceless old paintings, swords, bows and arrows rest in a climate-controlled environment.

One of my favorites is an old pump organ.

The warehouse also contains cars and a horse-drawn hearse -- complete with wicker coffin inside. There's even the old control panel from the Trojan nuclear plant.

But interestingly enough, it's often not the flashy expensive stuff the historical society really hankers for. What it really needs are everyday things that usually get thrown away.

George Vogt: "What happened with everyday clothes was they were worn until they were worn-out. And then they were turned into dust rags or quilts or whatever. Things got re-used and recycled.  So to find a pair of lady's bloomers for example from the 1850's, wow, that's quite rare."

Kristian: "You heard it here on OPB. If you have a spare pair of bloomers, Oregon Historical Society wants to hear from you."

Sorry, laundry room humor gets me every time.

Suffice it to say, it's a warehouse that stores a slice of Oregon's history.  And the society is planning to take a few members of the public around.