By George P. Edmonston Jr.

With the passing of retired Rear Admiral Edgar Hadley Batcheller May 3 in Woodstock, Va., the day after his 93rd birthday, another chapter closed in the story of an Oregon State family with connections to OSU spanning almost a century.

James Batcheller, photo from the 1922 Beaver.

Edgar Batcheller was born in Mattapoisett, Mass., to James Hervey and Elizabeth Town Field Batcheller, the former a professor in the School of Mines at Oregon Agricultural College in the early part of the 20th century. Today on the OSU campus, the old School of Mines building honors the professor by bearing his name: Batcheller Hall. Admiral Batcheller considered Corvallis his home when he enrolled at the U.S. Naval Academy in 1930, graduating with the Class of 1934 before pursuing a master’s degree from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the late 1930s. He retired from the Navy in 1969 after a long and distinguished career as a naval engineer, specializing in shipbuilding and repair. His interests and expertise ranged from nuclear propulsion to the banjo. He enjoyed golf, sailing, fishing, the Navy and his family. He was married 67 years.

That Edgar’s father, James, was an interesting member of the Corvallis community is an understatement. In 1923, the professor known affectionately to friends and colleagues as "Gentleman Jim," shelled out $2,000 for a new Dodge business sedan. The Batcheller clan often referred to it as a "contraption," a "four-cylinder box on wheels." Almost overnight, camping became the family’s hobby, and short, local trips soon became long trips. But there were seven Batchellers, including the future rear admiral, three other brothers and the family dog, Mattapoisett. Gentleman Jim made sure the "contraption" accommodated everyone. Using a mechanical ingenuity way ahead of its time, the likable professor redesigned the Dodge into what may have been one of America’s first recreational vehicles.

With bit-by-bit tinkering, the car was slowly but methodically transformed. When finished, it included all the comforts of home: running hot water, a fireless cooker built right on the engine block, an icebox, a bed, a dining table with six stools, a sink stand with large dish pan and removable legs, a five-gallon water bag (with cold water), and a tent. So that nothing was left undone, a built-in dog kennel for their beloved pet was tinkered into the final product.

This was not just a car with a bunch of camping gear piled on top, Jim liked to remark to his friends. To prove it, he would open all four doors unobstructed with the car fully loaded. Sporting a grin on his face a mile wide, he would remark, "now this is what I call ‘motoring de lux.’"

Photo of the 'motoring de lux' from The Oregon Stater, Oct 1997.

In 1924, Jim got the idea of putting the "De Lux" through a real test...a trip across America. For two years the family planned and saved. By the spring of 1926, everything was set. They would leave in late June and start back for Oregon the first of September. Their destination would be Massachusetts and the small town near New Bedford after which they had named their dog: Mattapoisett Neck on Buzzard’s Bay. To the casual observer, this might seem like a strange ending point for a cross-country trip, especially in an era of motor travel in which few ever ventured more than 50 miles away from home in the family automobile. Why not make the trip really special, say with a destination of New York City or Miami or Atlanta? Anywhere but Buzzard’s Bay.

But Jim and Elizabeth had their reasons. Prior to their move to OAC in 1919, Mattapoisett Neck had been a traditional summer retreat for both sides of the family. Jim had studied at MIT, just to the north in Cambridge, and Beth’s parents had owned a second home in the area. The summer of ’26 would also be Beth’s parents’ golden wedding anniversary.

Amazingly for the times, the trip took Jim and family but 10 days to travel the 3,666 miles from coast to coast, an average of 333 miles a day. Jim kept a log book, announcing proudly at journey’s end that the seven of them had made it across the USA for $141.66. Their only mishap was the aggravation of having to repair the same tire three times: a nail was always the culprit. During the life of the car, the Batchellers made the same journey twice more and in the end, the odometer read over 100,000 miles.

Edgar’s three brothers were Peter, Jolly and Robin. At one time or another, three of the four were students at Oregon State. Like his brother, Peter eventually graduated from the Naval Academy and stayed until retirement. He was stationed aboard the battleship USS Maryland at the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Dec. 7, 1941.

Oliver A. "Jolly" Batcheller, also a World War II veteran, was an OSU graduate in agriculture from the class of 1936 and spent his career as head of the horticultural department (1946-1970) at California Polytechnic Institute-Pomona, retiring in 1978. A natural plant conservatory on the Cal-Poly campus today is named in his honor.

Robin Batcheller, photo from the 1930 Beaver.

Robin, who starred in many drama productions at Oregon State College during the 1930s, appeared on Broadway early in his acting career. He eventually became a woodcarver and was founding chairman of the department of the arts at the Collegiate School (for Boys), the oldest independent school in the United States (founded 1628) and one of the most prestigious prep schools in the country, located on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. He held the position for 17 years, during which time he tutored John-John Kennedy, son of President John F. Kennedy. Jolly’s daughter, Virginia Batcheller Brownfield, graduated from OSU in 1963. A son, Oliver A. "Chip" Batcheller, graduated from Oregon State in 1966.

George Edmonston Jr. is editor of the Oregon Stater and Eclips. This feature is an edited version of a Batcheller family profile that originally appeared in The Oregon Stater in October 1997 under the title, "Two Inventors: From Landing Craft to Leisure Vehicles."