Found Living Off Reservation after the Removal: An 1880 Discovery Sheds Light on Nellie Selsic (Updated)

Found Living Off Reservation after the Removal: An 1880 Discovery Sheds Light on Nellie Selsic 

1880 article from the Langlois Tribune" to "1880 article from the Port Orford Post. Line-by-line transcription below:

"SOLITARY AND ALONE.

The Last Remaining Female of a Once Numerous and Powerful Tribe.

The squaw "Nellie," who, with her two children, Louisa and William, at present occupies a house on the mill property, is the only female left of the once proud "Macanutona" tribe which once, and up to 1857, occupied a tract of country along Rogue river, four miles above its mouth.

In 1851 the tribe numbered 400 warriors, in 1857 what was left of the tribe was removed to Siletz Reservation where there only now remain 14 bucks, which, with Nellie, make 15 all told, which live to recount the former glory and achievements of the famed Macanutonas. Alas! they have all gone to the happy hunting ground beyond.

Nellie is the daughter of the Chief, "Salsik," who died at Siletz some twelve years since.

She is now in the enjoyment of her third term as a grass widow. Her last husband is said to be up at the Bay somewhere. Her father was a cousin to old "Whiskers," chief of the Sixes.

From her long contact with the whites, and being endowed by nature with a good degree of intelligence, Nellie is civilized quite beyond the average of her kind.

She responds promptly to standing engagements to wash each week for various families, and is altogether industrious. 

She dresses after the manner of her pale sisters, and, judged by her build and carriage, who will readily be mistaken for a white woman passing along by one who does not get a glimpse of her face. She dresses her little girl and boy with exquisite taste, keeping them tidy and clean.

Her little girl, aged nine years, is a pupil in J. B. Tichenor's school, and is quite up with children of like age and opportunities in her studies. In deportment she is excelled. 

Mr. T., the teacher, says that, if all children would conduct themselves as well, teaching would be shorn of its chief embarrassing angularity..."

If you do Native genealogy in Southwest Oregon, you know the struggle. If you’ve spent time on Ancestry, you might have come across Nellie's name on a tree, but beyond a bare label, she was an ancestor nobody really knew what happened to. Tracking relatives who lived off-reservation after the removals usually means hitting brick wall after brick wall—half the time, names are missing from official records entirely, spelled wrong, or reduced to a single vague mention decades after the fact.

That was exactly the case with Nellie Selsic. When I cleaned up her Ancestry profile, I realized there were zero primary records attached to her during her actual life—no documented birth date or place, and no verified death record or burial site, just rough estimates. The only paper trail confirming her name was on her son William Towner's 1920 marriage license to Lillie Palmer, where her maiden name was mangled as "Selsix" and the family surname recorded as "Touner." For a long time, what became of Nellie after the forced removals to Siletz remained a complete mystery.

Then, out of nowhere, an unexpected newspaper snippet opened up a whole new path of research.

A huge shoutout to local historian Rick Cook, who shared a newspaper clipping from his personal collection from an 1880 edition of the Port Orford Post (which was printed and published out of Langlois). Interestingly, when we both went back to look for this clip across online news archives, we found it was completely unindexed and unavailable—making this saved snippet an even more crucial piece of preserved history.

When I first skimmed the clipping, the name "Louisa" immediately caught my eye, and my mind jumped straight to Sixes Mary's daughter who was living off-reservation. Nellie Selsic didn't even register at first because the very next detail that grabbed my attention was the reference to her father being a cousin to old "Whiskers," Chief of the Sixes.

It wasn't until I stepped back, looked at the full context the following day, and read a follow-up message from Rick—

"So, Nellie is Gilbert's grandmother"

—that everything suddenly clicked. Realizing the Nellie listed here was Gilbert Towner’s grandmother completely refocused our research. This tiny piece of news was the exact needle in a haystack we were missing. Seeing her explicitly named in 1880—living off the reservation with her children, Louisa and William, on the mill property in Port Orford—filled in a critical missing chapter. It proved that despite official relocation policies, she made her way back near her ancestral lands to build a life, work, and raise her family on her own terms.

Working through these external resources not only sheds new light on existing archival research, but it also deepens our connection to the lived experiences behind the names and dates.

Untangling the "Louisa" Puzzle

When I pulled up Nellie's profile on my tree to reconcile this new information, I noticed a distinct puzzle. The article lists nine-year-old Louisa (giving her an estimated birth year of ~1871) alongside her younger brother William (~1873). On Ancestry, Isabelle "Belle" Towner was previously recorded as a daughter born around 1870. The complete absence of Isabelle in this 1880 article strongly suggests that Isabelle may have passed away prior to 1880, confirming Louisa as a distinct daughter and reclaiming her rightful name and place in our family timeline.

Thanks to this 1880 clipping, we now have contemporary, eyewitness proof of Nellie and her children during her lifetime—restoring a missing daughter's name, clarifying the Towner lineage, and bridging our oral history with the lost paper trail.

—and suddenly everything clicked. This tiny piece of news was the exact needle in a haystack our research was missing.

The Big Discoveries

• A Primary Source for Nellie: After relying solely on broad date estimates and a misspelled 1920 marriage record, this 1880 article gives us contemporary, eyewitness proof of Nellie during her lifetime near Port Orford and Langlois.

The 1920 marriage certificate for Nellie's son, William, which provided the original paper trail for her maiden name prior to finding the 1880 article.

A Return Toward Ancestral Homelands

Moving south to Port Orford was more than just a search for work—it brought Nellie within 25 miles of her ancestral Makonutunne lands along the Rogue River and placed her near extended family, like Chief Whiskers at Sixes River. Establishing a home on the mill property allowed her to support her family independently while reclaiming a connection to her traditional homelands outside federal agency control.

Navigating Transformation on Ancestral Soil

Standing on the Port Orford mill property, Nellie was living directly on top of her people’s traditional village sites and hunting grounds—now completely reshaped by sawmills, shipping docks, and white settlement. While the 1880 reporter remarked that she "dresses after the manner of her pale sisters" and blended in with the townspeople, this outer adaptation was a profound act of survival. Separated from the everyday practice of her traditional Tututni culture, she adopted modern dress and took in laundry to navigate a newly foreign world on her own terms—all while keeping her children safe, maintaining her connections to local leaders like Chief Whiskers, and staying rooted in her homelands.

Life on the Port Orford Mill Property

The 1880 article gives us a rare, vivid window into Nellie's day-to-day life off-reservation. Occupying a house on the Port Orford mill property, she established herself as an industrious and economically self-reliant head of household. She responded weekly to regular washing engagements for local families, maintained her independence, and carefully dressed her children, Louisa and William—with nine-year-old Louisa actively enrolled in J.B. Tichenor’s local school.

The piece also offers unique insight into her personal life, noting she was in her "third term as a grass widow" with her husband "up at the Bay." In 19th-century phrasing, this indicated she was separated or living independently from a domestic partner for the third time—underscoring her remarkable self-sufficiency as she raised her children and actively navigated community life in Port Orford while maintaining her ancestral ties.

Reading Between the Lines

Working through the text together, different details jumped out to each of us. While my focus was drawn to the family tree connections, Rick caught a fascinating historical detail: the article notes that Nellie was "in the enjoyment of her third term as a grass widow," with her last husband "up at the Bay somewhere."

While "grass widow" could mean separated, in frontier Oregon it frequently described a woman whose husband was away for extended work. Men often left Port Orford for Coos Bay to find seasonal industrial labor, milling, or coal mining. Gold mining was also a major driver in the area, and a note on her husband’s records confirms he was involved in gold work—a perfect match for the travel required by placer mining and prospecting. Rather than indicating an abandoned home, her husband being away highlights the realities of regional work opportunities and underscores Nellie's independence as she maintained her household, worked, and raised her children in Port Orford.

Navigating Domestic Life & Off-Reservation Relationships

To keep her lineage and personal history clear for family and descendants, her relationship timeline breaks down into a few key facts:

• No Legal Marriage to Towner: As Towner descendant Sondra Shields confirmed, Nellie was never legally married to Martin Van Buren Towner. Martin maintained a legal family elsewhere while fathering Louisa (~1871) and William (~1873) with Nellie near Toledo in the early 1870s.

• Why the Children Kept the Towner Name: While Martin did not legally marry Nellie, he acknowledged his children, allowing William and Louisa to carry the Towner surname on civil and agency records.

• The "Grass Widow" & Three Relationships: The 1880 article notes Nellie was in her "third term as a grass widow" with a partner "up at the Bay." In 19th-century regional phrasing, a "grass widow" referred to a woman living independently or separated from a domestic partner. Martin Towner represented her second major domestic relationship, following an earlier Siletz-era union in the late 1860s and preceding a third partner along the coast by 1880.

• Her Primary Name (Nellie Selsic): While the 1880 article refers to her only as "the squaw 'Nellie,'" using Nellie Selsic in genealogy and family history remains her most accurate identity. Because she never legally married Towner—or any of her partners—she retained her connection to her father Chief En-sal-sun’s surname (recorded as "Selsix" on her son William's 1920 marriage license).

Historic survey map of Curry County highlighting the "Mill site at Hubbard Creek" just south of Port Orford. In 1880, sawmills operating along the coast provided cluster worker housing, giving us a precise geographic location for where Nellie established her household off the reservation.

• The "Salsik" Name Connection: Reading through the text slowly, I caught her father’s name spelled phonetically as Chief "Salsik." Phonetic misspellings were rampant in 19th-century local papers, but knowing the region makes it clear: Salsik is Chief En-sal-sun "Frank" Selsic.

  While the 1880 article claims Chief Salsik died "some twelve years since" (around 1868), primary reservation records reveal a very different story. Frank Selsic was alive, residing at Siletz, and actively participating in agency affairs long past 1880. While official death records or gravestones remain elusive, primary documents narrow his passing to a precise 12-month window:

  • July 1894: Frank was present in person at Siletz to select his official land allotment.

  • June 30, 1895: On the U.S. Indian Census Schedule taken less than a year later, his wife Ella is listed as an independent head of household and recorded as a widow.

  The 1880 newspaper report was clearly relying on faulty local rumor. The hard paper trail confirms Chief En-sal-sun "Frank" Selsic passed away between July 1894 and June 1895.

Parallels with Sixes Mary

With virtually no surviving agency records for Nellie at Siletz beyond the early post-removal censuses, her life story closely parallels that of Sixes Mary. Both women navigated the tumultuous decades following the 1850s removals by establishing households with white settlers and remaining on their ancestral South Coast lands off the reservation. Living outside agency walls allowed them to preserve local ties, raise their children in their home region, and carve out a life of quiet resilience on their own terms.

Yet, just like with Sixes Mary and other Native women who married early white settlers, filling in these records leaves us with even deeper questions. Where and how did they first meet? What were the quiet, daily realities of navigating two very different worlds during such a turbulent time? Discoveries like this 1880 clipping give us invaluable pieces of the puzzle, but they also remind us how much of their personal lived history remains just beyond the reach of written records.

Connecting Chief Ensalsun & Chief Whiskers

Beyond the immediate family tree, this cousin connection reveals a major piece of tribal history. If Chief Salsick (Selsic) was a cousin to Chief Whiskers of the Sixes, it means Chief Salsick carried direct Sixes River lineage—which in turn indicates En-sal-sun’s mother was Sixes herself.

When I brought this up to Rick, he confirmed it right away, noting: 

"Yes. Gilbert said he had Sixes blood. He never said how."

 The clip states that Chief Ensalsun (who was Makonutunne/Mikanotunne) was a cousin to Chief Whiskers. Seeing the name "Old Whiskers" sparked a memory that I had come across it before; sure enough, when I checked my tree, there he was! Looking closer after realizing he was a Sixes Chief, his wife's name—Sally Newton—triggered another memory. The great thing about reaching out to people online is having a clear paper trail of your thought process and sequence of discovery. I went right back through my notes to see why I had asked Robert Kentta about Sally Newton in the first place, and everything started locking into place. A cousin relationship here points straight to a shared maternal connection through Kwatmai/Sixes.

Key Kinship Takeaways for Family & Descendants:

• The Maternal Link: Because Chief En-sal-sun was Makonutunne (Lower Rogue River) and Chief Whiskers was Kwatami (Sixes River), their recorded cousin relationship reveals that En-sal-sun’s mother carried Kwatami/Sixes River heritage.

• Why Nellie Was at Port Orford: When Nellie lived on the Port Orford mill property, she wasn't among strangers—she was residing right within her ancestral maternal territory, close to her cousin Chief Whiskers and extended Sixes River kin.

• The Towner Lineage Bridge: For descendants tracing down through Nellie and Martin Van Buren Towner, this connects our branch directly into both the Makonutunne leadership line of En-sal-sun and the Sixes/Cape Blanco line of Chief Whiskers.

Ancestry tree view showing Chief "Old Whiskers" Nuu-ton, Sally Newton, and their immediate family branch.

Looking back at a message from Robert Kentta on August 19, 2024, it’s incredible to see how these connections were already surfacing—even before we knew about the Kwatami/Sixes link. As a descendant of John Adams (who was married to Nettie Newton, the daughter of Sally Newton and Chief Whiskers). Robert shared invaluable details about his lineage, the Athabaskan origins of the family's presence at Cape Blanco (Gwvn-Yuu-Gwvt Xvsh-hai-yu), and how their ancestors traveled back and forth to Sixes country:

Robert Kentta (8/19/24):

"A bit - she was wife, or one of several wives of Sixes Chief - Old Whiskers …he was from Sixes R, and Cape Blanco - in fact, some referred to him as Gwvn-Yuu-Gwvt Xvsh-hai-yu (Cape Blanco Chief) - the place name for Cape Blanco means “finger nail, upon” - because it’s a finger of land that sticks into the ocean, and I assume the bare spot at the end looked like a finger-nail on the point. He was also called “Nuu-ton” which must be Athabaskan, and might mean something like “our land” or our place….. He was buried behind the Old Sixes River store - lived off- reservation - took some families back south with him when the 1865 reduction opened Yaquina Bay to settlement. Sally’s Daughter Nettie was an earlier wife of my great grandpa - John Adams… before he married my great gram.

He and Nettie had several kids together in the 1870s, early 1880s…. One, Great GR’s oldest son Joseph Adams was sent to Carlisle school PA, and became a medical Dr…. But contracted TB and came home to Siletz and died here about 1896. The other siblings all died before him. Sally… don’t know who her parents were, and whether she came back to Siletz when her husband the chief died… or maybe they split up and she came back to Siletz…. I think she must have left him… or something along those lines.

Nettie had a sister (Frances Newton) - but she had 3 daughters - Annie, and Sarah Pierre (white father) - and Daisy McKay.. the mother died young and Grandpa Adams and Nettie took the girls in and raised them.

Sally outlived Nettie too. Grandpa Adams likely continued to look out for her some, after he and Nettie were no-longer together…

Grandpa Adams and Nettie used to take the kids in a buckboard wagon to Sixes to visit Old Whiskers…. Would go out to the valley and south, then cut over the Coquille Valley wagon rd to the coast, then south along the coast to Sixes country… he would hunt elk with his bow down there."

 Rick also shared crucial local background on Chief Whiskers and the region:

"It is said that Whiskers was a Sixes River and Port Orford Indian, and he is buried up above the Sixes River. Back in the 1800s, the Upper Sixes River was fairly wild, and I've been told Siletz escapees lived upriver. A descendant of early settlers told me Indians would come downriver from the Upper Sixes to collect mussels at the coast."

This local geography paints a clear picture of how families like Nellie's navigated life off-reservation—using the remote Upper Sixes as a safe haven while maintaining traditional seasonal routines, like traveling down to the coast for resources, far away from agency oversight.

To top off these lineage discoveries, looking into our DNA results delivered the ultimate confirmation: a distinct segment match connected right back to this shared upper lineage. Seeing genetic data line up so perfectly alongside Rick’s insights and the 1880 clipping transforms a compelling historical trail into an undeniable family reality.

 Genetic Proof & Family Connections

We examined a DNA match with a fellow tribal member who descends from John Adams through a different wife. While we are still untangling the exact branch to determine how our shared genetic link connects, it highlights how these tribal family lines intersect and overlap across regional records, oral accounts, and living descendants

Back in those 2024 messages, Robert had mentioned visiting with my mom during a gathering at Cougar Rock to pull bear grass and pick berries. To top it off, my mom was sitting right here with me as I was reviewing all of this—bringing the story full circle as we pieced our family connections together.

Unraveling the Sally Newton Connection

Looking back at why I had originally asked about Sally Newton, I turned to the 1900 and 1910 Federal Censuses where she was living with the Arden family:

• 1900 Census: Lists both Sally Newton and Charles Depoe—who was Ella Depoe-Selsic and Ada Depoe-Arden’s brother—as lodgers in the household.
  
  
• 1910 Census: Lists Sally Newton as "grandmother" and Ada Depoe-Arden (Ella Depoe's half sister) as "mother," with Claiborne Arden as head of household. Both records note Sally as full-blood Rogue River and Shasta.

When I shared this theory with Robert Kentta, he agreed: "Ah - good detective work - that might make most sense that she would be Brown Arden’s Mom…."

An automated record summary on Ancestry highlighted how the household was structured:

Final Years: Her record trail comes to a close at the home of Alex Catfish, where she passed away—giving us a clear, grounded final chapter to her story alongside these census records.

Death notice for Sally Newton published on November 3, 1913, noting her passing at Siletz at approximately 90 years of age.

Untangling the "Louisa" Puzzle: An Unattached Ancestor Merged Home

The article also mentioned Louisa, which raises an important detail regarding her sibling Isabelle. At first, I wondered if Louisa was the same child recorded on Ancestry as Isabelle "Belle" Towner (born ~1870), or if she was an additional daughter of Nellie and Martin Van Buren Towner. However, the complete absence of Isabelle in this 1880 article strongly suggests that Isabelle may have passed away prior to 1880, making Louisa a distinct daughter. Treating Louisa as a new addition, I went to create her profile—only to discover Louisa Towner was already sitting in my tree as a floating, unattached record with no parents listed!

Louisa Towner already sitting in my tree!

Finding her on the 1890 Siletz Agency Census Roll provides the exact BIA record connecting her childhood to her adult life. While her surname was misspelled as "Twiner" by the census enumerator—a common mistake in these handwritten rolls—the entry lists 19-year-old Louisa residing at the Siletz Agency on June 30, 1890, less than two years before her marriage to Frank Carson.

Interestingly, looking further down the same census page brings the family connections full circle: listed just a few lines below Louisa is Old Newton (age 62)—none other than Chief Whiskers himself—living on the reservation alongside his wife Sally Newton.

This 1890 census serves as a vital second primary record—corroborating the 1880 newspaper article by placing Louisa at Siletz alongside extended family before her 1892 marriage.

Confused at first, I dug into her facts. She was listed as the wife of Frank Willard Carson, marrying him on February 28, 1892, in Benton, Oregon.

1892 marriage license for Louisa Towner and Frank Willard Carson in Benton County, Oregon.

I initially wondered if she might be connected to the Service- Viles branch, but the record trail told a much sadder story Louisa Towner passed away on January 21, 1893, less than a year after her wedding, leaving no children behind.

Thanks to this 1880 newspaper clip, I was finally able to merge Louisa Towner to her rightful spot in our family tree as Nellie Selsic's daughter and Chief Ensalsun's granddaughter.

When I shared this article with fellow researcher Sondra Shields—a direct descendant of Nellie Selsic and Martin Van Buren Towner whom I connected with on Ancestry while tracing our shared Selsic line—her reaction matched what Rick and I were seeing in Martin’s records:

"Thank you SOOOO much for that article. I have absolutely no info on her other than birth and death dates. I have no idea how Nellie met Martin Van Buren Towner, but I'm pretty sure they never got married. Martin was already married and still married to someone else when both of Nellie's kids were born. Apparently, he didn't mind that they took his name, however."

Hearing from a Towner descendant made everything click. It confirms Martin was balancing two separate lives—raising other children with his legal wife while also fathering children with Nellie. It also explains why the 1880 reporter called Nellie a "grass widow," and why William and Louisa carried the Towner surname even without a marriage certificate on file.

Bridging Oral History and the Lost Paper Trail

While we knew Nellie was part of our family, her name was rarely spoken or passed down outside of private genealogical trees, leaving an entire generation of her life virtually invisible. Without standard census entries or written records from her youth, her lived experience was left completely undocumented by official record-keepers of the era. It was only through digital records and working alongside cousins like Sondra that her place in our tree was kept alive at all.

In archived audio recordings of Nellie’s great-grandson, Gilbert Towner, speaking about his heritage, he passes over Nellie's generation when recounting the family line—jumping straight from Chief Ensalsun Selsic to his grandparents. Because Nellie lived off-reservation in local coastal communities where Indigenous women often faced immense pressure to assimilate and navigate life outside agency oversight, her generation was easily overlooked by official record-keepers and guarded in family talk. While her name went unspoken in those audio accounts, this 1880 newspaper clip provides the missing contemporary proof that restores Nellie's full story, her lived experience, and her place as the essential ancestral bridge between them.

Gilbert Towner 1929-2009

The Paper Trail vs. The Siletz Gap: Unpacking Her Timeline

Understanding Nellie’s timeline requires looking past the gaps in official federal records. Standard census schedules in 1860 and 1870 bypassed her entirely—not because she wasn't there, but because enumerators routinely omitted Indigenous people living on reservation land at Siletz.

However, looking at nearby civil records helps bridge the Toledo–Siletz connection:

• Accounting for the "Third Term": Knowing that Louisa was born around 1871 and William around 1873 places Martin squarely in Nellie’s life during the early 1870s. Given her age and the 1880 reporter's comment that she was in her "third term as a grass widow," Martin was likely her second major domestic partnership following an earlier Siletz-era union, with a third partner up at the Bay by 1880.

• Autonomy Across the Coast: Rather than remaining stationary, Nellie moved fluidly along the Oregon coast—raising her children independently on the Port Orford mill property in 1880 before eventually returning north to the Toledo area, where her daughter Louisa later married Frank Carson in 1892.

Connecting the Dots: The Toledo Link

While official 1870 federal censuses routinely bypassed reservation residents, we know Nellie was at Siletz during this period because of Martin Van Buren Towner. Civil census records document Towner living in nearby Toledo, Oregon, in 1870—right on the doorstep of the Siletz Agency. It was during this exact window in the 1870s that Nellie and Towner had their children (including Louisa and William), grounding her presence at Siletz years before she resurfaced in coastal newspaper accounts.

Honoring Resilience and Survival

While those 1880 population statistics paint a somber picture of the severe losses endured by coastal communities, the true story lies in the profound resilience of those who survived. Despite military campaigns, forced removals, and federal policies designed to eradicate Rogue River bands, our ancestors persevered. Chief Ensalsun and his wife Ella Selsic (Depoe) both survived the forced removal to Siletz and established their lives on the reservation, creating a foundation of endurance for their family. While her brother Antone remained on the reservation at Siletz, Nellie carved out a distinct path off-reservation. Omitted from both federal agency rolls and reservation land allotments, she navigated life outside federal control—raising her children independently and maintaining her connections across coastal communities like Toledo and Port Orford. Uncovering these obscure newspaper snippets and bridging them with our oral histories isn't just about verifying dates—it is about honoring their strength and ensuring their survival is never forgotten.

Key Primary and Secondary Sources (MLA Format)

• Port Orford Post [or Port Orford News]. Article clipping regarding Nellie Selsic, children Louisa and William, and family origins, c. 1880. Personal research collection of Rick Cook. Unpublished primary source clipping; original issue date and volume unindexed in online archives.
  
  
• Benton County Clerk. Marriage License for Frank Willard Carson and Louisa Towner, 28 Feb. 1892, Benton County, Oregon.
  
  
• Port of Port Orford. "History." Port of Port Orford, https://portofportorford.org/history/. Accessed 9 Aug. 2026.
  
  
• Shields, Sondra. Family research and notes regarding Martin Van Buren Towner timeline, domestic relationships, and descendants. Personal correspondence with author.
  
  
• United States, Bureau of Indian Affairs. Siletz Agency Indian Census Roll, BIA Census Schedule, 30 June 1890. Documenting Louisa Towner (recorded as Twiner), Chief Whiskers (Old Newton), and Sally Newton.
  
  
• United States, Bureau of the Census. Twelfth Census of the United States, 1900, Siletz Indian Reservation, Lincoln County, Oregon. Enumeration District 29, Sheet 4B. Listing Sally Newton and Charles Depoe.
  
  
• United States, Bureau of the Census. Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910, Siletz Reservation, Lincoln County, Oregon. Enumeration District 169, Sheet 2A. Listing Claiborne Arden, Ada Depoe-Arden, and Sally Newton.
  
  
• United States, Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management / General Land Office. Township 33 South, Range 15 West, Willamette Meridian (Curry County, Oregon). Cadastral Survey Map showing "Millsite at Hubbard Creek," Port Orford, c. 1880s, Record Group 49. Curry County Historical Records Collection.
  
  
• Washington State Department of Health. Marriage Certificate for William Towner and Lillie Palmer, 1920, State of Washington. Primary documentation for maiden name "Selsix."
  
  
• "Death Notice: Sally Newton." Local news clipping, 3 Nov. 1913, Siletz, Oregon. Recording passing at the home of Alex Catfish.
  
  
• Cook, Rick, and Robert Kentta. Historical notes, regional geography details, and oral accounts. Personal correspondence with author, Aug. 2024.