Harvey Merle Bontrager

Biography of Harvey Merle Bontrager as written by his daughter Opal Jean Bontrager
LONG VERSION
Harvey Merle Bontrager was born July 4th, 1934, in Rogers, North Dakota. He said for as long as he could
remember everyone always celebrated his birthday. He was the 7th of 11 children of Felty and Mary
Bontrager. He had 4 older sisters and 3 younger ones. Before meeting his wife, he told his siblings he didn’t
think he would ever get married because he had grown up with so many sisters. And my brother Richard
complains about having a bossy sister – he has only one! Dad grew up horse and buggy Amish in North
Dakota, Oregon, and Virginia. Virginia is where many of his family became conservative Mennonite, later
branching out to other Christian denominations. He started dating our mother, Vera, when she was 16 and
he was 19. Mom was a foster child to his Aunt Mandy and Uncle Rube near Constantine, Michigan. Mandy
was Felty’s sister. Dad and Mom dated 6 years before they married on July 1, 1960. When Harvey died on
April 3, 2024, he and Mom had been married for over 63 years and 9 months. About 6 months longer than
his father and mother had been married.
Dad and Mom moved about so often between Virginia, Michigan, and Oregon that they couldn’t even tell
me how many times they moved back and forth to and from those states. Dad and Mom started married
life in a small apartment and then a small house in McMinnville, Oregon. When I was about 6 months old,
they bought a small house on around two acres south of Carlton. There Dad built a large barn (much larger
than the house). Dad used to put me in a clean box stall when Mom was working and he was doing
“chores”. At times, grazing there on those 2 acres of land were large Belgian work horses, small Shetland
ponies, saddle horses that were part Quarter horses, Morgan, Thoroughbred, and even Saddlebred – horses
built for a wide variety of uses. They had a wide variety of colors from sorrels, bays, paints, grays, black,
brown, and even a few duns or palominos. Dad had a loading chute used to load horses into a truck which
he used to take a group of horses and kids on Saturday mornings to a friend’s riding arena. I remember it
was fun but often cold. Like his father and his brothers, Dad trained horses not only for riding, but also for
plowing and for driving. In his lifetime, Dad probably trained 40-50 horses. He also broke a few bones
riding horses. He once broke a foot when the horse he was riding fell on the pavement. He was racing one
of his friends. He also thought he probably broke a bone in his neck while wrestling with his nephew Leroy.
He walked stiff necked for quite a while and was later asked by his doctor, “when did you break your neck?”
He didn’t tell Leroy, though. He also broke some bones in his hand and cut off part of his fingers as a
sawman in the trailer factory. Mom said, at one point, she thought he was an accident waiting to happen.
In 1965, Dad was a valuable member of a re-enactment troop of civil war soldiers. The original troop of
Oregon soldiers traveled from Oregon to Washington DC in 1865. When those soldiers got to DC, the civil
war was over. For Dad’s troop, they traveled by horseback, with replica uniforms and equipment, including
Army wagons and cannons. They would camp at small towns where people could come out and see them.
Sometimes, when they went into town, they could see themselves on the local evening news. Dad got to
drive horses pulling a caisson, used to pull a cannon, into the Pendleton Roundup that year. Dad and his
fellow re-enactors traveled from Banks, Oregon, to Laramie, Wyoming, where the troop disbanded due to
lack of financial support promised to the re-enactors. Among his fellow re-enactors, he developed lifelong
friendships with Bill Smith, Buck Burke, and Apache Joe.
Dad and Mom sold the Carlton place in 1968 and bought 50 acres in a place called Gopher Valley near
Sheridan, Oregon. It came with a flock of sheep. Dad wasn’t as crazy about them and even tried shearing
the flock one year. I wasn’t so crazy about the sheep either – I got ran over by an unhappy ram. He didn’t
keep the flock long. On that farm, I once counted about 16 head of horses – mostly ponies and saddle
horses. One of his mares was broke so well, she would “spin on a dime.” He once hoisted me up on the
mare. I barely moved the reins. She spun around so quickly I told Dad I wanted off now. I was less than 10.
Another time, he took me along when he was delivering a bay gelding, called Little Joe, that he had sold to a
couple living up in the hills probably north of Yamhill. After he took Little Joe out of the horse trailer, he
jumped on the horse bareback, grabbed the top of the horse’s halter, and galloped the horse down the
couple’s driveway, spun the horse around, and galloped back. The man said, “If you had shown me that
earlier, I would have paid you more for the horse.”
While we lived in Gopher Valley, we enjoyed living close to his sister Elva and her daughter Kelly. Kelly and I
could literally walk up and down the side of a large and steep hill to visit each other. We also lived not too
far from Dad’s parents. We had many happy memories riding horses, visiting with relatives, and eating
Grandma’s delicious goodies. In 1970, Dad felt God was telling him to move to Michigan so he and Mom
sold their place in Gopher Valley. He sold and gave away the horses. We left Gopher Valley with a
Chihuahua named Tippy and took what I called the short-cut to Michigan via San Mateo and San Diego,
California, to visit Mom’s brothers Richard and Merle and their families, and then traveling the southern
interstates with detours to see relatives in Texas, Sarasota, Florida, and his sister Esther’s family in North
Carolina. The trip took us about six weeks. We ended up living south of Centreville, Michigan, where
Mom’s brother Earle and his wife lived.
Within a year or two, Dad bought us one small but onery Shetland pony we called Babe. He built a small
barn and corral behind the single wide trailer Dad and Mom rented from the son of a Mennonite farmer
called “Chicken” John Miller. Mr. Miller actually raised a herd of pigs. There might have been a flock of
chickens, but it’s the pigs that we noticed.
By 1975, Dad and Mom bought 20 acres and a double wide trailer for $20,000 and again we had a small
herd of horses, and Dad was training horses including some for the preacher for a local church we
attended. We children again were riding horses with friends and cousins. Dad also signed up my brother
Richard for football and baseball. Dad helped coach Richard’s teams and we enjoyed getting to know other
families whose children played ball with Richard in the humid Michigan summers and the cooler but
beautiful Midwestern fall. We also became close to our church family at Florence Church of the Brethen.
Some years, Dad drove the church van to pick up kids for Sunday school and Mom got to help. Other years,
they were youth group leaders. We also had many happy times with Aunt Adeline, Cousins Debbie and
Julie, and Aunt Ida and Cousin Kathleen as well as with Mom’s Brother Earle, wife Melanie and Cousins
Steve and Heidi. Mom and Dad often invited relatives and others to their home. I remember baseball
games and Dutch Blitz card games. Others who came to live or visit with us included Cousins Monte, Linda
and Toby, Uncle Jay, Aunt Becky and Cousin Tim, as well as our North Carolina Cousins. We also loved our
mini caravanning trips to North Carolina with three carloads of relatives going to visit Aunt Esther and
family. We also made at least several trips back and forth to visit family in Oregon. By the time my brother
Richard was 10 years old, he figured he had gone one way between Oregon and Michigan at least 10 times.
All their lives, Dad and Mom enjoyed traveling to visit family.
By 1978, Dad and Mom decided to come back to Oregon. Although they didn’t have a job, Dad let me bring
my horse, Sunshine, and my piano. Dad drove round trip two times. On the second trip back to Oregon, my
horse was on one side of the horse trailer and my piano on the other. They also let us bring our dog Wolf.
By this time our little Chihuahua had gone on his way to heaven. Grandpa let us keep my horse on his farm
outside of Amity. We stayed with Grandpas and even stayed in a travel trailer at Aunt Linda’s house for a
time. Dad and Mom let me finish high school going to Western Mennonite feeling I would enjoy a small
Christian school rather than a larger secular high school. I believe they were right.
Dad and Mom were very supportive of my and my brother’s education. They helped send money to me
monthly when I was in college and at the same time sent my brother to Salem Academy Christian School,
even when there was a recession. I remember realizing one year that Mom and Dad had hot dogs in their
refrigerator while I was offered more variety at my college cafeteria. Very humbling thought, although hot
dogs and macaroni and cheese was one of our favorite meals growing up.
Dad and Mom also carried on his parents’ tradition of helping relatives and others when they temporarily
needed a place to stay. I once counted 29 different people having lived with Dad and Mom throughout their
married life. At one point, I decided that, since Dad and Mom were in their 80’s, it was time to close down
their Bontrager hotel. They never had any regrets helping family and friends when needed.
In 1987, Dad scoured Salem, Oregon, for inexpensive homes for sale that he, Mom, Richard and I could
purchase together. He looked at over 40 homes. He narrowed the choices down for us and we all decided
on the Saginaw St house. I had saved $1,500 to move to Seattle to look for a job, but instead it became part
of the downpayment for the house. The other part of the downpayment involved putting at least $1,500 in
improvements into the house in six months. The plan was to turn the attic into a bedroom. Dad
orchestrated and did most of the work, but Mom and Rich helped. I do remember helping to attach
insulation under the attic roof after Dad put down plywood flooring so we wouldn’t fall through the ceiling. I
also remember my brother sleeping in the basement with water running along both sides of his bed as he
waited without complaining for the attic bedroom to be completed.
The amount of work Dad put into our house was incredible. He rented a backhoe that he and Uncle Jay
used to dig large trenches on three sides of the house to reduce the small stream of water that ran through
our basement. He filled the trenches with rock and dirt. He also jack hammered the basement’s floor,
manually digging out the dirt so he could lower the floor to give people more head room when walking in the
basement and, of course, for when playing pool. He purchased a small conveyor and created a dump
trailer so he could remove the dirt from the basement and haul it to places taking fill dirt. Neighbors used
to come by just to see what he was up to. He created a bathroom and a bedroom in the basement. He
rebuilt the basement stairs. He tore down the back porch and created an extension to our kitchen and a
back entryway. He probably doubled our cabinet space in the kitchen. He replaced most of the chicken
wire and plaster with wallboard around most of the outer walls and ceilings on the first floor. Our property
also had too many large trees close to the house – some that were leaning. He personally cut down at least
6 trees and we have a small lot.
As well as a horse trainer, Dad has been a farmer, a factory worker, and a construction worker. His favorite
tractor was a Farmall H. Once in awhile, Dad would point out buildings in the Willamette Valley that Dad
helped build or remodel, including some buildings at Linfield College in McMinnville. He was once lowered
by rope inside a large drain pipe that he painted to keep it from rusting. It was part of a Tualatin water
treatment plant. It was one of those jobs that was enough dangerous at the time that he only told us about
it much later.
In his retirement age, he joined the National Horseshoe Pitchers Association along with his friend Will
Robertson. They played many games in the Willamette Valley and other places in Oregon including Phoenix
and Bend. In 2005, he even went to the “world tournament” in Bakersfield, California, where he won
second place in the Elders Division Class D.
He also spent many years meeting with a group he called “the old guys” once a week at a predetermined
spot. At first, he was “the kid” at 62 meeting with guys in their 80’s at Lancaster Mall. By 2024, he is one of
the oldest at 89 meeting with the “old guys” Wednesdays at McDonalds. He definitely enjoyed the
camaraderie he had with these men and their wives throughout the years.
Dad also enjoyed the many games of pool he has played with family and friends through the years. At one
point, he had two pool nights every week until Mom and I explained that two was too many and Saturday
was the best night for pool. It’s a little hard to sleep with the crack of pool balls, sports on the TV, and
conversations coming up from the basement. The original pool group included Will and Marcia Robertson,
Uncle Rich and his wife Marshia, Aunt Adeline (aka “Frenchie”), Gary and Duwayne Miller, Dad and Mom
and whoever else showed up. Later, Dad and Mom enjoyed playing pool with Uncle Rich’s son Rich, his
wife Julie and their twins Tyler and Brandon. Mom and Aunt Adeline actually got quite good.
Dad also liked to play card games with family and friends. We had many fun times playing Phase 10, Sorry,
and Pit around our dining room table. He loved playing Skipbo with his sisters Linda and Elva. Dad was not
shy about looking at other people’s cards. If you didn’t know how to hold your cards carefully, you learned.
He was also very good at playing Password and the pool-like table game called Carrom so also were his
sisters Linda and Elva. You didn’t want one of them on his team because it would be hard to beat them.
In November of 2022, Dad and Mom moved to Avamere by Keizer. They met many pleasant people and
enjoyed playing cornhole baseball with other residents. They did well playing that game, too.
The love Dad and Mom had for each other was known by all. Even in the hospital, their love touched the
hearts of the hospital staff that were caring for Dad. Dad passed away peacefully with his beloved wife and
our mother Vera, his daughter Opal (me), his son and my brother Richard, Richard’s wife Deanna, Deanna’s
daughter Katie, Deanna’s sister Sheryl, and Dad’s younger sister Eileen, all sitting around his bed, gently
touching his body. We believe the prayers of so many caring people helped him and us tremendously.
Thank you for all who prayed and visited him, including cousins who came from Tacoma, Bend, Portland,
Myrtle Point, and McMinnville to be with him in his final days. I really believe that Dad cared very much for
each and every one of Dad’s and Mom’s nieces and nephews and their families and the family of Bill Smith
along with many other relatives that weren’t just family but also his friends.
Thank you so much for viewing Dad’s bio, please add any memories you are willing to share.