Asahel Bush II was easily the most revered and recognizable personage in Salem, Oregon. He was bowed to and greeted as he walked down the street, and certainly at the Oregon Statesman, his newspaper, and at Ladd & Bush Bank.
 

ANGUS BERNARD GILLIS AND ASAHEL BUSH

    As the Statesman's owner and editor, he helped shape Oregon government, telling readers what to think about local political figures and issues. For instance, I remember my father saying that Bush took strong exception to General Joseph Lane, first Governor of the Territory of Oregon, calling him a young upstart. (My husband was Lane's great-great grandson!)
    Opinionated he may have been, but he was also keen, energetic, anxious for the welfare of Oregon, and a fine businessman, who, when he chose, could also be very charming.
    Asahel surrounded himself and his family with lovely things: the furnishings of his wonderful Victorian home, and the landscaping must have, given him great satisfaction and joy.
    One special thing of beauty was his Rolls-Royce, a shining, silvery-gray sedan, ultimate luxury car of that era! There was generous room in the passenger area, and a little jump-seat in one corner, perfect for a child! Each long-stemmed vase on either side held a rose. A sliding window between Jacob and us, with a speaking-tube connecting the two sections, plus the gray velvet upholstery made it a perfectly grand car! Jacob drove it proudly and kept it shining!
    One day my father decided that he must learn to drive, though he had no thought yet of owning a car. He was well-satisfied still with his Morgan Horse, Mac, and his black doctor's buggy, but he thought be should know how to drive "in case" as he explained, "I might have to in an emergency." Mr. Bush graciously allowed Jacob to drive Dr. Gillis in the Rolls to a quiet road, and demonstrate the mysteries of driving.
    When they returned, Angus was at the wheel, looking very pleased with himself. To my knowledge he never drove again; my mother was the driver of the family car we bought in 1922.
    Mr. Bush could rightly have said, "My other car is a private, railroad car," which was stored at the railroad station in Portland, in all its shining brass and sumptuous comfort. Should some member of the Bush family or certain of their friends wish to take a long trip, perhaps to the east coast, this car would be hooked to the east-bound train, and, away they would roll in perfect style!
    As is often the case with persons of his standing, Mr. Bush was a bit eccentric; this trait seemed only to add to his persona! For example, Salemites knew that he would not handle money which had been circulating about, picking up germs. Instead, having access at his bank to cash of every denomination, he made sure to carry all he might need to pay any sun from his own pocket.
    As he aged, and his health began to fail, Mr. Bush became more irascible and self-willed, and at times very difficult to manage. Eventually he suffered from failing kidneys, which caused edema.
    After one visit to Mr. Bush, my father ordered him to cut way down on his fluid intake. A few days later, however, Sally had to report that he was disregarding this order; in fact he was drinking as much fluids as he pleased.
    "Will you come for a visit, Doctor?" she asked. "Late afternoons Papa sits under a shady tree on the lawn, and you could just happen by."
    "Yes," he agreed, "I'll be there this afternoon, and have a chat with him."
    Angus drove up to the Bush House in his buggy. He stepped down, and stood looking up at the expanse of lawn. There, reclining in a comfortable lawn chair, in the shade of a leafy, spreading tree sat his patient. As Angus approached, he noticed the small table, upon which sat a pitcher of lemonade. There was a large glass of it in Mr. Bush's hand.
    When his patient noticed Angus coming towards him, he hailed him, smiling broadly.
    "What a nice surprise, Doctor! Coming to cheer up the old man?"
    "Well," replied Angus, "not exactly, now that I see you disobeying my orders, Mr. Bush."
    "Caught me red handed, eh?" Quickly recovering his poise, he tried cajolery.
    "You wouldn't deny a fellow a cool drink on a hot day, would you?"
    He smiled with that old Bush charm.
    But Angus did not seem to be willing to play the game. Rather he decided on a tough stance. Turning to the housemaid who had just appeared, he said to her, "Would you please bring a bucket of water and a dipper?"
    After glancing uncertainly from one to the other, she did leave on this errand, and brought them.
    "Just set them here," said Angus, indicating a spot next to Mr. Bush's chair. She did so and left. "There now," he continued, "When you have finished the lemonade, help yourself to the water, In fact, drink as much fluids as you wish! I no longer consider you my patient!"
    With that, Angus turned and strode away across the lawn to his buggy and drove off.
    The next morning Sally was at his office, waiting for Angus to arrive, and when he entered, she said in a rush, "Oh, Doctor! Papa is so upset! He sent me to tell you he promises to follow your orders faithfully, if only you will take him back as your patient!"
    Deeply touched, Angus said, "Sally, I only wanted to shock him into doing what he must do. Tell your father I believe he will keep his word, and that I will be his doctor as long as he does that."
    Angus did remain his doctor and friend until Mr. Bush's death in 1913. He was with him when he died at the age of 89.