In 1931, Kathryn Hall Bogle’s University of Oregon professor sent to The Christian Science Monitor an article Bogle had written about her rejection of racial slurs. The magazine published it and paid her fifteen dollars, marking the beginning of her journalism career. Five years later, Bogle phoned the editor of The Oregonian, furious about the paper publishing articles that put forth racist stereotypes of African Americans. The newspaper subsequently printed a page-long article written by Bogle. The piece detailed her painful experiences growing up black in Portland and Marshfield (now Coos Bay), and indicted the continued widespread discrimination of African Americans living in those cities. The paper paid Bogle twenty-five dollars for the piece, marking the first time The Oregonian had paid an African American for their reporting.
Bogle writes of her experience job-hunting, "The white girl steps forward, and, after answering routine questions satisfactorily, is hired. The brown girl steps forward, happy in her friend’s good fortune. She is stared at in open-mouthed astonishment. She is told quickly and firmly, ‘We have no place for you.’ " Upon applying (along with a black friend) to Behnke-Walker Business College, with the intention of acquiring skills to increase her ability to secure a position, ". . . we were told without delay that because of our race we could not register there! We went to their nearest competitor, only to meet with the same statement."
Bogle was hired by the federal government to work for the U.S. Employment Service in Portland in 1941. In a 1985-86 interview with Rick Harmon of the Oregon Historical Society she said, "I became the second black woman to hold an office position in government. [The other one was Geneva Turner, who worked as a caseworker for the Multnomah County Public Welfare Dept.] At that time there were no others---no others. There were no black salespeople in town--- not a one: there were no black elevator operators; there were no blacks visible in any business situation except those very few places where a black person had established his own private business. . . ."
Kenneth Smith--- a friend of Bogle’s, and the only black person employed by the federal government in Portland at the time--- was so concerned about a possible sabotage of Bogle’s application process for the position with the U.S. Employment Service, that he and three other men of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (N.A.A.C.P.) paid a visit to Oregon’s governor in an effort to safeguard the integrity of that process. Bogle said she was thus ". . . able to work without fear . . . ." of losing her job due to racial discrimination.
In nineteen forty-eight, Bogle worked as a social worker, after the Vanport flood, finding homes for many displaced persons and families. The Red Cross provided a car for her, and she often covered several hundred miles a week, crisscrossing the city. She cleared her caseload in the allotted time, and was given a good performance review.
A year later, she interviewed with the Boys and Girls Aid Society, but delayed starting work there until after she attended the N.A.A.C.P. convention in Los Angeles. Sharing a cab with Ralph Bunche on the way to the convention, she had an idea about an exclusive interview with him that The Oregonian might publish. She asked the driver to stop at a pay phone, and excitedly called the Oregonian to explain her idea. But they weren’t interested in an article about him, because, Bogle was told, "…he is [a] Negro...we have a white readership and the white readership would not be interested...". (Fortunately, not everyone was as racist or parochial: Bunche won the Nobel Peace Prize in nineteen fifty, the year after Bogle attended the N.A.A.C.P. convention). Bogle was upset, but attended the convention and gave a speech to the local branch when she returned to Portland. She then began working for the Boys and Girls Aid Society.
In nineteen forty-nine, she and her husband and son took a trip around Oregon in the car they bought, but they had difficulty finding lodging because they were African Americans. When she returned from the trip, she told her friends who worked for the League of Women Voters about her experience. They were appalled, and began a grassroots campaign to pass the Public Accommodation Law. Defeated in every legislative session since it was first introduced in 1919, the bill passed in nineteen fifty-three.
She retired from the Boys and Girls Aid Society in nineteen sixty-eight, at the age of sixty-two. Then she worked with the women from the League of Women Voters to pass the Civil Rights Act. During this time, she collected shoes and sent them to the protesters in Mongomery, Alabama, who refused to ride public transportation and walked everywhere.
Bogle worked for ten years at Good Samaritan Hospital after leaving the Boys and Girls Aid Society. She interviewed families and patients who had upcoming brain surgery. She presented these interviews orally to a group of physicians and other people who would be involved with the patient’s care.
After leaving Good Samaritan Hospital, in 1978, Bogle wrote for local newspapers. She wrote a column for the Portland Observer but when the editor, Calvin McGilvery, left, he was replaced by a number of temporary editors. These editors, she states, "…were dissatisfied with my approach to the events that were happening in the city…they let me know I was dispensable, so I no longer was able to write for them…". She quit and began to write for The Oregonian, the Downtowner, and the Skanner. She continued to be involved with the St. Philip’s Episcopal Church, and other service organizations.
In nineteen eighty-nine, Bogle and other members of the African American community formed a group called "The Friends of the Golden West" to be involved in the renovation of the Golden West Hotel in northwest Portland. The building restoration was already underway, but "The Friends of the Golden West" filled out the paperwork for it to be listed on the National Registry of Historic Places. The Golden West Hotel is important to the community because it provided rooms until the nineteen thirties for African Americans who were traveling on their way to jobs as railroad or ship workers. At this time in Portland, it was difficult for African Americans to find lodging. The hotel also served as a place for local families to gather on Sunday afternoons.
Bogle was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award by the Portland Association of Black Journalists in nineteen ninety-three.
In August of 2003, Bogle died. She was 96 years old. Carl Deiz, a friend of her son, says that he remembers when Bogle was the coordinator for programs for high school kids at St. Philips Church, and says that he thinks that Bogle’s "greatest achievement was her skill in writing." Bogle’s son says, "My mother was a woman with wide interests. She was politically astute. She loved the arts and took me to hear many of the African American performers, like Paul Robeson, Marian Anderson, Rolland Hayes, Duke Ellington, and Count Bassie. She was deeply spiritual and even though she was a member of the Episcopal Church for most of her life, she delved into the beliefs of other faiths." Bogle’s daughter, Linda Metellus says that her mother "…formed deep friendships across racial and cultural boundaries." During the time that Bogle wrote for The Skanner, she told the Executive Editor, Bobbie Dore Foster, "I have to do something meaningful with my life." Kathryn Bogle blazed a trail for many people who came after her.
Sources:
Downtowner Magazine. April 27, 1992.
Marching Forward. Long, James Andrew. 2001. Pumpkin Ridge Productions, North Plains, OR. 97133.
The Oregon Historical Society.
The Oregon Historical Society Quarterly
The Oregonian.
The Portland Observer
The Skanner
Varieties of Hope: An Anthology of Oregon Prose. Dodd, Gordon B., editor. Oregon State University Press, 1993. Corvallis, OR.
Special thanks to Dick Bogle
Special thanks to Carl Deiz
Special thanks to Carol McMenamin of The Oregonian
Special thanks to Ruth Mullen of The Oregonian
