Bill Stoller never pictured himself settling down in his hometown of Dayton, Oregon, but an interest in wine and a passion for farming brought the multimillion dollar business owner back to his roots. “You can take the boy out of the country,” Stoller says, “but you can’t take the country out of the boy.”
Over the past three years, the U.S. economy flew off the tracks and along with it Oregon. There was the housing crisis in which no one could say definitively who owned their mortgage; the credit crunch in which banks were given free money but would not lend it; the overt failure of the financial system in which Wall Street once again reminded us that it cares for none but its own and owns Washington; the once-a-decade failure of credit rating agencies, building on their Enron and Worldcom successes and still well compensated by the businesses they objectively scrutinize.
Since 1888, there have been twenty-two U.S. presidents, ten Supreme Court chief justices, but just nine editors in chief of the venerable National Geographic. In 2005, Chris Johns, a small-town boy who grew up in Central Point, Oregon, became the ninth editor of the magazine and the first to rise to that title fromits photography ranks.
Christopher Marley has become something his childhood fears could never contemplate—an artist who works with insects and other natural specimens to create framed arrangements of preserved bugs. Around this fascination with insects, Marley has built an empire of his own, with works that adorn stylish homes across the world.
More than sixty years after humans annihilated Oregon’s gray wolves, and fifteen years after the federal government reintroduced them in Idaho, wolves have crossed the border and settled in northeast Oregon’s Wallowa Mountains. Now about twenty wolves live in the high country around Enterprise and Joseph and they’ve been eating local livestock, calling federal and state management practices into question and fueling controversy in the otherwise quiet towns of northeast Oregon.
Known for its ripping winds that have made it a mecca for windsurfing, kiteboarding and paddling, Hood River is now becoming synonymous for craft beer, mountain biking, fruit and wine. Within the past five years, Hood River’s nascent wine industry has grown from seven to nearly forty vineyards. The small gorge community still lives well.