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ENLARGE
Alan Jordan has been a co-owner of the Tenmile Store with his wife, Paula, for the past five years.
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A cat named Green Eyes visits the Tenmile Store. The cat spends most of its time at the feed store and is one of three cats often found on the premises.
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The Tenmile Store offers a wide variety of items. Owners Alan and Paula Jordan try to order whatever their customers want.
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Pickled products are displayed on the front counter at the Tenmile Store.
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TENMILE — The distance west from the Eberline grist mill in Happy Valley was 10 miles.
So the area just off Highway 42 West and a 10-minute drive from Winston became known as Tenmile.
The story behind the origin of the name comes from “old pioneers” in a source available at the Douglas County History and Natural History Museum Library.
Grist mills were extremely important to farmers in the 19th and early 20th centuries, being a place to have their grain ground into flour.
So the area just off Highway 42 West and a 10-minute drive from Winston became known as Tenmile.
The story behind the origin of the name comes from “old pioneers” in a source available at the Douglas County History and Natural History Museum Library.
Grist mills were extremely important to farmers in the 19th and early 20th centuries, being a place to have their grain ground into flour.
The name Tenmile started out as Ten Mile. It became one word when, in 1910, the U.S. Post Office issued money order blanks with the word as Tenmile.
Today the small community centers around a church, fire station, post office, and, of course, a store.
The Tenmile Store came into existence in about 1922, starting first as part of the house still located next to the current Tenmile Store.
The road that eventually became Highway 42 was not built until the early 1940s, ending at the Tenmile Store, and forming a junction with Reston Road.
Tenmile Store, like most rural stores, is a hub that has a little bit of nearly everything for sale as well as a place to chat with neighbors, get up-to-date information, gather for spontaneous celebrations or unexpected mournings, receive or offer help, and generally nestle into the community.
Today the small community centers around a church, fire station, post office, and, of course, a store.
The Tenmile Store came into existence in about 1922, starting first as part of the house still located next to the current Tenmile Store.
The road that eventually became Highway 42 was not built until the early 1940s, ending at the Tenmile Store, and forming a junction with Reston Road.
Tenmile Store, like most rural stores, is a hub that has a little bit of nearly everything for sale as well as a place to chat with neighbors, get up-to-date information, gather for spontaneous celebrations or unexpected mournings, receive or offer help, and generally nestle into the community.
Dode Benedict and then his son, Ted, owned and operated the store from 1939 to 1974. During that time, a saloon ran along the south side of the store.
The door remains visible from the gas pumps, painted over. The long, narrow space that sported a long, narrow bar is now used for storage.
Alan and Paula Jordan bought the store five years ago. Coming from Yerrington, Nevada, Alan said, “ We were getting kind of tired of the desert.”
The two began a search for a new home.
Paula's father urged them to find a business they could run to make their living. They scouted in Idaho and Oregon, including Grants Pass, Medford, Tiller and Wilbur, passing on all of them. When they walked into the Tenmile Store, “it just felt right.”
The previous owners cautioned the Jordans that the community was “standoffish” and warned that it would take a while to be accepted there. The Jordans said they found the opposite. They were warmly welcomed.
Alan and Paula set out to run a store that served the community they had chosen.
“ I asked people what they wanted me to carry and I listened,” Alan said.
The most frequent request was “Please turn this back into a grocery store.”
They did.
One small example: As Alan put sandwiches together, a man searched the candy rack. “ You don't have my Gummy Bears?” he asked. “Did I eat them all?”
Alan answered, “ I ordered them but we were zeroed out.”
He searched through the freight boxes anyway. “No Gummy Bears.” The man decided he could make do with Gummy Worms until the next freight came in, Alan assuring him they were ordered and soon he'd again have a good supply.
In 2008, Alan and Paula opened a feed store in the fire department's old building across the parking lot. They have a broad list in stock and order in whatever people want. They serve 4-H kids and farmers and anyone needing feed and ranch supplies. Three cats, one left anonymously, patrol the store and greet the customers.
One of Alan's worst days since owning the store was the night the portable toilet burned down. He got up early in the morning — it was still dark — to look out his window at an outdoor privy in flames, a man sleeping beside the fire. He ran out, calling the fire department, waking the man, moving him to a safe distance.
“What the heck, dude?” he hollered. ”You started my Porta-Potty on fire!”
As the fire department arrived “to put out the ashes ... the potty was pretty well burnt up,” the man caught a ride on the highway. They never saw or heard from him again. The store no longer offers bathroom facilities.
Many of Tenmile Store's customers work in the woods or at jobs that support the logging industry. Crummies transporting loggers, tree planters, timber cutters and firefighters, stop by after work and Alan has hot food ready. Chip truck and log truck drivers pull over for a drink and a snack. Road crews supplement their lunch pails and sit at the picnic tables. They are all familiar faces and are made welcome.
Alan says he keeps track of the summer fire danger status so the woodsworkers can find out their restrictions and work hours at his store.
“It's teamwork,” he said. “We share information.”
Alan and Paula remember one day when their perception of living in an almost crime-free community was challenged. A man purchased a few items, left the store and moments later rushed back in out of breath,
“Somebody stole my truck!” he yelled. “Call the police, somebody stole my truck!”
Alan, taken aback a little, called the sheriff's office as he gathered more information. “Where did you park? Are you sure? Did you leave your keys in it?”
“I looked out there and, sure enough, there was no truck,” Alan said. “I walked out with the guy to where he'd parked. He kept saying ‘Somebody stole my truck, I can't believe it, somebody stole my truck!'
Alan couldn't believe it either. There were so many people around and it was right there at his store.
He looked down the road. About 200 feet away on the other side of the road, was a pickup leaning on its side, the grill up against the Tenmile Creek sign.
‘Is that your truck?” Alan asked the guy.
It was. The truck had rolled across the banked road, hit the sign and fallen over into the ditch. A tow truck was called.
Alan and Paula enjoy contributing to the well-being of Tenmile.
“At Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving the churches put food baskets together,” Alan said. “We contribute to them all, mostly basic needs like food.”
An annual flea market takes place in the Tenmile Store parking lot. Occasionally, someone comes in who really needs help, usually with food or gas. Alan and Paula find a way to help.
“ Nearly every time, people trade for work or show up and pay us back. This is a good community,” Paula said.
Living in quarters behind the store and working at the business is a family affair. Alan's parents, as well as a few of his children and one child's fiance, live with the couple. Alan's father, Don, tends the store, pumps gas and chats up the customers, clearly enjoying being part of a family running a community store.
Alan has preserved the history of the Tenmile Store. Framed pictures of the former owners Dode Benedict and son Ted were left with the store.
Also left were logging tools from a previous era. The tools are mounted on the wall with their names, just as they were when Ted Benedict loaned them out. An informal ledger of tools to loan and names of some of the borrowers is still kept at the store.
When Alan bought the store he offered the tools to Ted. Ted said no, replying “They belong with the Tenmile Store.”
They're a reminder of the store's history.
The door remains visible from the gas pumps, painted over. The long, narrow space that sported a long, narrow bar is now used for storage.
Alan and Paula Jordan bought the store five years ago. Coming from Yerrington, Nevada, Alan said, “ We were getting kind of tired of the desert.”
The two began a search for a new home.
Paula's father urged them to find a business they could run to make their living. They scouted in Idaho and Oregon, including Grants Pass, Medford, Tiller and Wilbur, passing on all of them. When they walked into the Tenmile Store, “it just felt right.”
The previous owners cautioned the Jordans that the community was “standoffish” and warned that it would take a while to be accepted there. The Jordans said they found the opposite. They were warmly welcomed.
Alan and Paula set out to run a store that served the community they had chosen.
“ I asked people what they wanted me to carry and I listened,” Alan said.
The most frequent request was “Please turn this back into a grocery store.”
They did.
One small example: As Alan put sandwiches together, a man searched the candy rack. “ You don't have my Gummy Bears?” he asked. “Did I eat them all?”
Alan answered, “ I ordered them but we were zeroed out.”
He searched through the freight boxes anyway. “No Gummy Bears.” The man decided he could make do with Gummy Worms until the next freight came in, Alan assuring him they were ordered and soon he'd again have a good supply.
In 2008, Alan and Paula opened a feed store in the fire department's old building across the parking lot. They have a broad list in stock and order in whatever people want. They serve 4-H kids and farmers and anyone needing feed and ranch supplies. Three cats, one left anonymously, patrol the store and greet the customers.
One of Alan's worst days since owning the store was the night the portable toilet burned down. He got up early in the morning — it was still dark — to look out his window at an outdoor privy in flames, a man sleeping beside the fire. He ran out, calling the fire department, waking the man, moving him to a safe distance.
“What the heck, dude?” he hollered. ”You started my Porta-Potty on fire!”
As the fire department arrived “to put out the ashes ... the potty was pretty well burnt up,” the man caught a ride on the highway. They never saw or heard from him again. The store no longer offers bathroom facilities.
Many of Tenmile Store's customers work in the woods or at jobs that support the logging industry. Crummies transporting loggers, tree planters, timber cutters and firefighters, stop by after work and Alan has hot food ready. Chip truck and log truck drivers pull over for a drink and a snack. Road crews supplement their lunch pails and sit at the picnic tables. They are all familiar faces and are made welcome.
Alan says he keeps track of the summer fire danger status so the woodsworkers can find out their restrictions and work hours at his store.
“It's teamwork,” he said. “We share information.”
Alan and Paula remember one day when their perception of living in an almost crime-free community was challenged. A man purchased a few items, left the store and moments later rushed back in out of breath,
“Somebody stole my truck!” he yelled. “Call the police, somebody stole my truck!”
Alan, taken aback a little, called the sheriff's office as he gathered more information. “Where did you park? Are you sure? Did you leave your keys in it?”
“I looked out there and, sure enough, there was no truck,” Alan said. “I walked out with the guy to where he'd parked. He kept saying ‘Somebody stole my truck, I can't believe it, somebody stole my truck!'
Alan couldn't believe it either. There were so many people around and it was right there at his store.
He looked down the road. About 200 feet away on the other side of the road, was a pickup leaning on its side, the grill up against the Tenmile Creek sign.
‘Is that your truck?” Alan asked the guy.
It was. The truck had rolled across the banked road, hit the sign and fallen over into the ditch. A tow truck was called.
Alan and Paula enjoy contributing to the well-being of Tenmile.
“At Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving the churches put food baskets together,” Alan said. “We contribute to them all, mostly basic needs like food.”
An annual flea market takes place in the Tenmile Store parking lot. Occasionally, someone comes in who really needs help, usually with food or gas. Alan and Paula find a way to help.
“ Nearly every time, people trade for work or show up and pay us back. This is a good community,” Paula said.
Living in quarters behind the store and working at the business is a family affair. Alan's parents, as well as a few of his children and one child's fiance, live with the couple. Alan's father, Don, tends the store, pumps gas and chats up the customers, clearly enjoying being part of a family running a community store.
Alan has preserved the history of the Tenmile Store. Framed pictures of the former owners Dode Benedict and son Ted were left with the store.
Also left were logging tools from a previous era. The tools are mounted on the wall with their names, just as they were when Ted Benedict loaned them out. An informal ledger of tools to loan and names of some of the borrowers is still kept at the store.
When Alan bought the store he offered the tools to Ted. Ted said no, replying “They belong with the Tenmile Store.”
They're a reminder of the store's history.
Debbie Levings, a resident of Lookingglass Valley, enjoys doing research on rural areas and turning her notes into stories.
