Our story begins long before the construction of our home. While the Fisher family history is well documented by their descendants, I’m sharing a less formal, mostly from-memory, and (hopefully) shorter version here.
It starts with James Marchbank Fisher, born in 1848 in Scotland. He emigrated to the U.S. in 1867, made his way west, and eventually settled near Little Willow Creek, where he started a sheep operation. Before long, he partnered with Scott Brundage—yes, the same Brundage associated with the mountain in McCall. James got a less flashy namesake in the form of Fisher Creek, which flows into upper Payette Lake.
After finding success, James returned to Scotland, where he married Wilhelmina Kirk in 1897 (she was 25 years his junior) and brought her back to Idaho.
By then, he was living on a ranch on the Weiser Flat. At age 50, he and Wilhelmina began their family. Their first three daughters—Jeanna (1898), Catherine (1900), and Roberta (1902)—were born in quick succession.
Tragedy struck in January 1903 when all three toddlers became ill. Jeanna and Catherine died within days of each other. Years later, they were joined in rest at Hillcrest Cemetery by their parents and two sisters, Roberta and Willie.
Roberta, who survived, told us it was the whiskey they gave her that saved her! The family originally believed a virus was to blame, but during a house centennial reunion we hosted with more than 50 descendants, botulism was suggested as the more likely cause.
I’ve often wondered what it must have been like for Wilhelmina—new to this harsh, isolated land, with no family support and a husband old enough to be her father—losing two young children so suddenly. But that was a different world, and life went on.
Roberta was followed by Chris(tine) in 1904, (Frances) Mary in 1907, (Wilma) “Willie” in 1911, and Bea(trice) in 1915.
By 1907, James was a respected member of the Weiser community. Ready to retire from ranching, he commissioned a larger, more substantial home from local and regional architect H.W. (Herbert Weston) Bond. Early on, we learned Bond also designed the larger, similar-looking home to the east (built for the Broderson family in 1915), now the Hartland Inn in New Meadows. He also designed the now-demolished New Meadows Hotel at the intersection of highways 55 and 95.
More recent research shows Bond was active in Weiser early in the 20th century, but he also lived and worked in Baker City, OR, and Santa Barbara, CA. He apparently did well for himself.
Construction began in 1907 in what was then the countryside just outside of town. Our home was soon joined by the Leighton House to the west in 1909, and the Broderson home in 1915. Each sat on a generous ten-acre lot extending to the Galloway Ditch.
Our original blueprints and multi-page typewritten specs (which have remained with the house) include a handwritten note: the Fishers moved in on March 1, 1908.
At the time, the house was heated by a living room fireplace, wood stoves in the rear parlor and dining room, and a cookstove in the kitchen. All three chimneys still proudly stand.
There were three bedrooms upstairs, with a rudimentary bathroom located in the attic space above the kitchen. The family referred to the downstairs bedroom off the kitchen as “the infirmary,” where sick family members were isolated near the kitchen and bathroom.
Note the hills in the background and the early stages of landscaping.
With more children on the way, the Fishers soon outgrew the original space. In 1911, they raised the roof over the kitchen and infirmary area, adding two more bedrooms, modernizing the upstairs bathroom, and installing back and attic stairways leading to unfinished third-floor rooms.
More significantly, they added a hot water heating system. According to the family, a trainload of heating systems had passed through Weiser, and they made sure not to be left out! That original boiler (later converted from coal to oil and then to natural gas) and radiators were still faithfully working when we purchased the house in 1981. We have since upgraded to a high-efficiency boiler, still feeding the original radiators.
James ensured all his daughters received college educations—four graduated from the University of Idaho. We still have one of the steamer trunks that accompanied them back and forth on the train each year.
James died in 1935, and his wake was held in the front room. Wilhelmina lived another 25 years, passing in 1961. Roberta, the eldest surviving daughter, married in the late 1920s, had a daughter in Pocatello, divorced, and moved back to the family home where she became a beloved schoolteacher and librarian in Weiser.
Eventually, all the daughters married and moved away, but they frequently returned home. We were fortunate to develop close relationships with Roberta (“Bert”), Chris, Willie, and Bea after buying the home. Sadly, Mary passed away in 1982, but her children shared many fond memories of her.
As the family grew, so did the house. In 1911, the Fishers raised the roof over the kitchen and infirmary to add two more bedrooms, modernize the upstairs bath, install a back stairway, and add stairs to the attic, creating access to two unfinished rooms on the third floor.
More importantly, they installed a hot water heating system. According to family lore, a trainload of hot water systems came through Weiser and they weren’t about to miss out! That original boiler (converted over the years from coal to oil to natural gas) and the radiators were still functioning when we bought the house in 1981. We’ve since upgraded to a high-efficiency boiler that still feeds those original radiators.
James was a good provider who made sure all his daughters received a college education. Four graduated from the University of Idaho. We still have one of the steamer trunks they used on their annual train rides to and from school.
When James passed in 1935, his wake was held in the front room. Wilhelmina survived him by 25 years, passing in 1961. They both lived to the same ripe old age.
Roberta, the oldest surviving daughter, married in the late 1920s and moved to Pocatello, where she had a daughter. She divorced soon after and moved back home with Jean. Roberta became a much-loved teacher and librarian in the Weiser School District. After retiring, she sold the house in 1974 and moved to Oregon to be near her daughter.
In 1957, Jean married Bill Marshall at the Weiser Presbyterian Church and also made her home in Oregon. All the daughters eventually married and moved away, but they continued to visit the family home—Roberta and Chris especially—during our early years of ownership.
We were lucky to know Roberta (“Bert” to her family), Chris, Willie, and Bea. Sadly, Mary passed in 1982 before we could meet her, but her children helped us get a sense of who she was.
When we decided to move to Weiser in 1981, we told our realtor, Louise Tarter, that we wanted an original, unaltered house—and that’s exactly what she found for us. It was the only house we looked at that February.
The Merrills, who owned it then, had bought it in 1978 from Delbert and Carolyn Petty, who in turn had purchased it from Roberta in 1974. By then, the back acreage was gone, leaving the house on a one-acre lot and another acre to the east.
When we moved in during Fiddle Week 1981, 6th Street still dead-ended at the new apartment complex behind us. The original barn was gone, though the Leighton barn remained. The original solid-concrete one-car garage was still standing—but it leaned like the Titanic!
With no practical way to save it, we gave it a gentle nudge, turning it into a pile of rubble. We stacked the remains into low landscape walls that still grace our yard. Though the garage is now gone, we’ve often laughed as we’ve recalled the story Roberta and Chris told of how every time they’d pull their 1916 Buick touring car through those narrow swinging doors, they’d “knock off a piece of brass”!
Of the four surviving daughters, we came to know Willie the best. She called herself the black sheep because she struggled with learning. After graduating from St. Margaret’s School for Girls in Boise, she used her college allotment money to go to Paris instead of straight to school! She eventually earned a degree, but wasn’t diagnosed with dyslexia until later in life.
As young girls, she and a sister left several inscribed messages on the attic walls—some discovered only during the home’s centennial celebration. We’ve preserved them all.
All five sisters became remarkable, independent, and successful women.
We hope you enjoy the photos. In the coming months, look for more member stories about historic properties, projects (past or in progress), and hobbies or experiences worth sharing.
New members are always welcome—whether you own a historic property, just admire them, or want to have a little fun with like-minded souls!
This is one of my favorite photos. The Brodersons, like the Fishers, were an all-girl family (seven sisters) who used to play softball with the Fisher girls on the acre between their homes. Many of these ladies remained lifelong friends.
When we bought the house, it still had most of its original light fixtures, wallpaper in three bedrooms, varnished woodwork, and even some wool carpet dating to James’s final years.
This may have been due to the Petty kids being grown when they lived here, and while the Merrills’ seven children certainly left their mark, their short ownership meant the house stayed mostly intact.
The house has always been a single-family home. By 1986, we were already the second-longest owners.
Sadly, the end of the 20th century brought the end of many mature trees in our front yard—trees grown from mail-order nurseries in Chicago when the house was built.
We’ve worked hard to honor the legacy passed to us by the Fishers. We replaced the garage with a new building designed to match the home’s style. The home’s original footprint and details remain—a real feat in a kitchen with five doors, two windows, a chimney, and no continuous wall!
Our guiding question with any modification is always: “Would this still feel like home to the Fishers?”
The family has blessed us with original artifacts, including the rocking chair Wilhelmina used to nurse all seven children. But what we treasure most is the way the Fishers welcomed us as part of their extended family, sharing stories and memories that live on long after many of them have passed.
We have photos, and a copy of a video oral history recorded here at the house during the 2008 centennial reunion.
We remain in touch with the Fishers. We recently spoke to Jean, who turned 90 last year and whom we’ll be visiting soon. Last year we even had descendants visit—one arriving by private plane! I took a video of them buzzing overhead as they flew home to Washington.
Our story—their story—continues, along with the joys and struggles of maintaining this beloved home. Two roofs, repointed masonry, and endless updates to plumbing and electrical later, we’re still here.
By Founding Member Tony Edmondson
September 12, 2022
