Harry Viar
April 2, 1935 – March 10, 2024
Harry Emil Viar was born April 2, 1935 in Portland, Oregon. His mother was Helen Hubbard and his father, Chris Viar. Helen & Chris were married in Stevenson, Washington in 1934. He was in the watch crystal business in downtown Portland and she was a registered nurse.
This marriage came to a practical end when Harry was 8, and his mother took Harry and his younger brother Larry away from Portland in the middle of the night to a life along the rail road with her second husband, Winston Skaggs. First in Rattlesnake, WA, and then Metolius, Oregon, their homes were adjacent to the stations.
In his early teens, Harry was allowed to get on trains, and ride to around. When the conductors came around, they said “There’s the Skaggs boy, he’s ok.” Harry attended Madras High School through his junior year. He remembered walking into town from Metolius to perform at school programs with no help from his stepdad. On today’s map, that’s 4.3 miles and an hour and a half of walking. He also went out a time or two with girls but found his interest was elsewhere. This caused some tension in his family.
In 1951, he won scholarship for his piano playing camp at the Art Institute of Chicago. At the end of the summer, he was packed up and ready to come home, and then asked himself “Why?” And he stayed. In general, he got a room at the YMCA and a job as an usher at the Chicago Symphony. A young and handsome Harry even got on stage when he was chosen to carry out and place a ceremonial wreath on a famous conductor’s neck. Beginning with a certificate from the Sherwood Music School in 1951, and high school graduation (YMCA High School) in 1953, he also attended the University of Illinois, Roosevelt College, and the Chicago Musical College.
In 1956, he came back west to San Francisco. We have a listing of five or six places he lived there but they are undated. He worked in a bank, enjoyed being young in the City, and was around during both beatnik and hippie eras, roughly 1958-1968. He attended San Francisco State University, and graduated from there in 1963 with a BA in Music. After college, he taught disturbed and delinquent young people using “art therapy at the Marin County Juvenile Facility.
In 1971, Harry decided to leave the hustle and bustle of The City, and came to Oregon with friends, Calvin McIntosh and Don Allen, Allen and Valkyrie Peters, and several others. He knew Cal from teaching, and also saw them socially. Don & Cal bought a house several miles outside of Coquille, Oregon. Harry lived upstairs. Cal was especially gregarious, and their home quickly became a center of social gatherings. About 1972, Harry found a piece of land to buy, on Middle Creek, a tributary of the Coquille River. The acreage was on a hillside above the County Road, with expansive clusters of myrtle trees as well as old growth firs up the creek behind the house. Across the County Road, roaring in winter and murmuring in summer, the beautiful Middle Creek Falls beckoned. It’s a broad basalt face with grooves worn through by time. Bank to bank in winter, in summer one can walk across the face easily above the water sluicing through the grooves in the stone. On one side a fish ladder structure allowed visitors to get down to the pool below, ideal, if chilly, for swimming and sunbathing.
Harry bought an old International pickup, overalls, and grew a pony tail, fitting for the times. Coos County had a lively hippie community in which Harry became an integral member. He had part of the land cleared, with some of the myrtles pushed into slash piles for firewood, and eventually, wood carving as well. In the meantime, he toured Coos County finding cheap sources for his building materials. He first built a shed, near the County Road and then a cabin up the road a hundred yards under the trees. He lived in the cabin while he built the house. He met a young, talented man named Peter Venere.
Peter had had some experience building, and he and Harry put together a really nice framed building. Longtime friend Everett remembers visiting before Harry had electricity, and the house was heated with the cook stove. Before long, Harry decided to begin teaching piano lessons. He had an upright piano, and if memory is accurate, his first student was a young neighbor child, and his rate was $5 per lesson.
Harry continued improving the house, got power, and began gardening in the open space between the house and the driveway. In the 20 years he lived there, he built a masterful system of beds and boxes, and eventually grew not only 12 foot tall corn and beans but mushrooms and ginseng.
Harry’s parents both visited him in his new environment. Peter moved on, and the house became more his. Through time, he added a large room to the front edge of the building, and then decks and porches all around. The finished house was beautiful.
Harry was quite the social butterfly throughout Coos County. There were like minded folk in the McKinley area, he knew others in Coquille, Bandon, and Coos Bay. He came to our home in Bandon about 1984, and had a huge armful of daisies. “Wow, where did you get those?” He turned and pointed “On the corner!” As he developed his teaching practice, he struck gold in meeting Cynthia Gerdes. She also taught piano, and let Harry use her studio. He participated in music performances throughout the area, choosing to accompany others rather than performing as a solo artist. The Coos Bay World had a lovely article about him and his contributions on August 25, 1987.
Eventually, Harry had enough business in Coos Bay to warrant renting a home there. He sub-let his country house, and enjoyed not having to drive 15 miles to get anywhere. Oregon’s political scene took an unfortunate turn when mean-spirited people tried to pass anti-gay measures. Harry joined a coalition, a Rural Organizing Project that sought to counter the negativity. He was a strong voice in decisions made locally, and, get this, he had a computer. He read and wrote emails, and was very competent at it. Harry was involved in a public incident in 1993 that was in the news. A local restaurant owner wrote a letter to the editor disparaging women. When a group of protesters, including Harry, picketed his business, the owner got on the roof, and sprayed water on the group. He was found guilty of harassment, and paid each individual $116.
A few years later (1996?), Harry decided to move back to Portland. He had sold the country property to the family that had rented it. He rented the place on 42nd street, and began teaching here. It wasn’t long before his calendar filled up with lessons, performance groups, and the rich offerings of art a city has. He spent time with Cynthia, Suzie, Everett and Jesse, and ate way too much at dinners with the Dilkes family. He got to know his neighborhood on foot, especially where he could pinch some flowers as he passed by. The Hollywood Theater was across the street, and he loved seeing movies from the back row.
One day he found a young man sleeping in the back of his truck. He invited Patrick in, and then took care of this kind soul for the next several years. Patrick was afflicted with Huntington’s chorea, needed a better diet, and all the other parts of daily life necessary for health. Harry took Pat to Hawaii, through the Panama Canal, Amsterdam, and other places. He also helped Pat stay in touch with a child he had, and to normalize his relations with his family. Patrick and I liked to joke in front of Harry that when he died, we would chop up his piano, and light it on fire. Harry laughed in horror, Pat in humorous delight. We lost Pat several years ago so we’re going to let the piano remain intact.
Around 2010, Harry’s landlord asked him to move as they needed the space for themselves. He then moved to 22nd, finding a two bedroom unit, with a landlord that would allow a piano studio. The new place turned out to be a good fit. He could walk to the bank, coffee ship, and had a sensational neighborhood for walks. He began working out on a regular basis, and had the buses memorized. He learned Sunday morning was half-priced at Helen Bernhardt’s Bakery, and he loaded up.
Throughout all of this, Harry continued teaching. He struggled with his eyesight through time, but found ways to adapt. Other parts of his health were more challenging. He became well-known at Kaiser facilities.
In February, Harry decided to move to a facility where he could get the support he increasingly needed. With the help of Kathy Dilkes, Katrina Hedberg, and a plethora of other friends, Harry went through his things to decide what would go with him. It was a torturous process for him as everything had a history and a meaning to him.
Harry left his apartment just in time. His last month was spent in several care centers. He steadily deteriorated. He spent his last days at Hopewell House, a hospice facility with an especially effective model of care and support.
Harry’s last full day was what he needed to depart this life. Old friends sat with him, and held his hand. In the afternoon, Harry’s students came, and rolled his bed to the piano. They took turns playing, even prompting him to conduct a little and applaud Katrina’s Rachmaninoff. A special visitor was T. K. Conrad. T.K. has known Harry a long time, and used Harry’s home on 42nd for several memorable recitals. And then, in the evening, a visit from Everett and Jessie. Everett estimates he met Harry about 1968, making him Harry’s oldest friend, at least in Oregon. Harry was still cogent enough to know his dear friends were with him.
After Everett and Jessie departed, promising him they would be back the next morning, Harry’s body had had enough. He died at 1:16 a.m., March 10, 2024.
After Harry’s death, Kathy Dilkes called Larry and Barbara Viar. Larry is Harry’s younger brother. In later years, the two became estranged. Larry and Barbara live in San Diego in a care facility, and he has dementia. Barbara was glad to hear from Kathy, and we are glad to have a place to send the family pictures we’ve found.
Harry’s remains have been cremated but we haven’t determined a burial place.
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