A mural in tribute to Wiley Griffon, Eugene, OR.

Preserving the Past: Wiley Griffon

By Bart Brewer
Photographer Armando Ramirez

Wiley Griffon, Eugene’s First Tram Operator.

Wiley Griffon’s plaque, Eugene, OR.

In 1909 he purchased a house along the millrace, where a parking lot is today. This is exceptional, given that Eugene was a sundown town — a term popularized by signs encouraging people of color to leave white towns by sundown.

“He could have been intimidated to leave Eugene, based on social pressures,” said Stocks. “Those sorts of things did happen to other black people in Oregon in his time. People like Perry Ellis in Oregon City, who was kidnapped and told to leave Oregon or be killed. These were things that were going on at the time.”

There aren't any documented instances of harassment of Griffon, though that doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. He may have been more broadly accepted because of his public-facing jobs or because he had people like Holden who could speak for him. 

“In Wiley Griffon's case, operating a streetcar; I think that that is an opportunity for Black Oregonians to demonstrate just the dignity of themselves,” said Stocks. “That is what built respect for a lot of these early individuals.”



Griffon died at the age of 46. The Elks Club, where Griffon had been working as a janitor when he died, paid for his burial at the Masonic Cemetery. No one really knows when his tombstone was lost, whether it was an act of vandalism or through lack of upkeep. With his tombstone gone, he largely fell out of the public record in the 1930s.  Walking through the cemetery today, visitors can instead find a plaque in Griffon’s honor. It’s posted near two streetcar rails rising from the ground like twin obelisks. The plaque was installed in 2017 with the support of Richardson.  

“I do the work because it's personal to me,” said Richardson. “I think he [Wiley] fits along with any other immigrant history of Oregon.”

Since the plaque commemorating him was put in, other signage around the city has appeared as well. There is a plaque outside the new city hall that speaks to his history, another at the location of his old house and a mural of him along Willamette Street. 

The added visibility, according to Richardson, isn’t just about remembering. It’s about moving forward.   

“When we try to uplift the African American story or the struggles,” said Richardson, “it's in the hopes that we are going to create a better society where these things don't happen to people going forward and that we take good lessons.” 

Over the course of researching and writing a story, it’s common to uncover new ideas. there are a lot of other stories that you find. Some are small, interesting bits of information; others could be entire pieces of their own, like in this case.

Unfortunately, there are only so many words that can fit on a page, and many of these stories are relegated to single sentences or cut entirely.

This is especially the case with a historical piece like “Preserving the Past,” which was featured in this year’s print edition of the 2024 print version of FLUXFlux. Many other stories were unearthed during the research process, many that we simply didn’t have the space for. This is but one of those stories, one we feel would be a disservice not to tell

Wiley Griffon’s gravestone doesn’t exist. After his death in 1913, he was buried in the Eugene Masonic Cemetery, seven blocks south of the University of Oregon. While we know that he was buried there, no one knows the exact site at which he was put to rest.

Griffon is one of the first-named Black residents of Eugene. He lived in the city at a time when it was occupied by only 17 Black residents in the city. He was the first Black worker at the University of Oregon — a janitor in Friendly Hall. While not the first to step foot in Eugene, his story offers a glimpse into what life was like as a person of color during the early 20th century in Oregon.

There isn’t much documentation of Griffon before 1890, when he moved to Eugene from Fort Worth, Texas, in 1890 alongside Henry Holden. Coming from Texas, which had similar anti-Black laws to Oregon, their relationship was likely a transactional one. Holden, a white man, had brought Griffon to Oregon to help run his new venture: Eugene’s mule-powered streetcars. 

“Wiley was the skilled labor doing the work,” said Eric Richardson, the former president of the Eugene-/Springfield branch of the NAACP, said. He has been an advocate for greater recognition of African American history in the area. 

“I want to honor my ancestors who died in slavery,” said Richardson. “Who died wanting to be liberated, wanting their country to fulfill the ideals that they have written down.” 

Griffon’s work on the early streetcar included operating the carts, caring for taking care of the mules and working to ensure ensuring that riders were safe. One newspaper account spotlight mentions him for rescuing a small child from being crushed by the wheels. 

“He was a well-known figure working in a prominent position in downtown Eugene for a long time,” Zachary Stocks, the executive director of Oregon Black Pioneers, said. “I think that Wiley Griffon is a good example of early 20th century everyday life for Black people.”

He was so well-known that he is one of the best documented people from that period of Eugene history. Dozens of articles were written about him that talked about his life and the jobs he worked: a hotel porter at multiple hotels,  a house cleaner, a logger, a UO janitor, a hop-yard worker and even doing odd jobs for the sheriff’s wife. 



A mural in tribute to Wiley Griffon, Eugene, OR.