As an actor who has appeared in such films as Natural Born Killers, Kenneth T. White took the stage name Kenneth White Eagle-wings. The Navajo man had a small role playing a Native American in the 1994 film, and says director Oliver Stone thought Kenneth White sounded too English.

White, who moved to Sisters a year and a half ago from New Mexico, may want to adapt that stage name to his everyday life. The relatively new-to-town White shares the name Kenneth White with at least two Kenneth Whites and three Ken Whites in Central Oregon, going by the White Pages.

Short of reading an entire phone book, theres no easy way to locate all the people in Central Oregon who share names. In some cases, there are duplicate listings for an individual. Others are unlisted. Kenneth T. White is unlisted himself.

That didnt stop him from looking up his name or, rather, those who share it when he moved to town.

In addition to being an actor, White is a stone carver, sculptor and painter specializing in Southwestern art. Back in Santa Fe, where White moved from, he once had a confused Dallas man stop in his gallery.

One time I had a guy come up to me and tell me, Im here to look at Kenneth Whites art. And he said, His styles really changed, man. Wheres Kenneth White?

I kind of looked around and I said, Oh, here I am. Thats me.

And he goes, No, no, seriously, wheres Kenneth White? Because I have some of his artwork. Theres some guy named Kenneth White that does really Western art, and (the Dallas man) thought he went into Southwest art.

The name has confused a few people in Central Oregon, too.

A quick glance at the listing for the common surname White in the 2004-2005 Central Oregon phone book turns up three David Whites, three Doug Whites, three Kevin Whites and four Jack Whites (presumably of no relation to the Jack White of White Stripes fame).

Another famous name three Central Oregon residents share is Steve Martin, none of them being the star of The Jerk or Bowfinger.

There are 10 listings for common names such as Robert Wilson.

Fishing and hunting for names

It might be the less usual names that cause the most commotion when people have them in common.

Take Kevin E. Peterman and Kevin D. Peterman, for example. The former is a private businessman who runs a rock and dirt quarry in Deschutes River Woods, the latter a National Guardsman with the 1-82 Cavalry in Bend. The two have a history that goes back to the 1980s.

I was working up in La Grande in 1988, and I opened up the phone book to see if there were any Petermans there, as I often did when I was traveling, explains Kevin E. Peterman, 47.

He noticed several Petermans. No surprise there, but there was also another Kevin Peterman listed. Since Kevin E. was about 35 miles out of La Grande working on a job for the U.S. Forest Service at the time, and decided to look up the other Kevin when he drove into town.

So I went and knocked on the door one day, and his wife answered he worked swing shift or some odd hours, he says. He wasnt there, but I showed her my drivers license and explained why I was there.

She told him he should come back later. That didnt happen.

Skip ahead several years, to 1996 or 97, when Kevin E. says Kevin D. called to say hed moved to Bend.

He lives in Bend and says, Yeah, I remember my wife telling me you had come by, so when I got over here, since she said you were from Bend, I thought Id call ya. So we went out to lunch, sat down and talked, talked about going fishing sometime, never did, and that was that.

It was actually 1999, says Kevin D., 42. The two would occasionally get each others phone calls and mail until Kevin D. transferred again, this time to Lake Oswego.

About a year ago, he moved back to Bend. He called Kevin E. at work, Able Supply LLC, a dirt and rock quarry in Deschutes River Woods, just to let him know he was back.

Then, a couple of months ago, Kevin (D.) called and ordered some gravel, recalls Kevin E. That was the strangest feeling, writing down my own name on a delivery slip. Ive written thousands of delivery slips in this business, and here I was writing my own name. Ill never forget that one order. That felt really strange.

Around that same time, both Kevins were featured in The Bulletin. Kevin D. was seen having earned his pilots license in a notice from the Flight Shop Inc.; in September, a hunting feature in Sports recounted how Kevin E. had bagged a bighorn sheep.

Heres Kevin (D.) Peterman at the controls with his sunglasses and headphones and everything at the controls of a plane, says a laughing Kevin E. People started coming in here to work and saying, Hey, Kevin, congratulations on your pilots license!

I thought, Now wait a minute, I didnt get a pilots license, he deadpans.

He posted the picture on an office bulletin board anyway. In mid-September, riffing further on the confusion their mutual names can cause, Kevin E. called Kevin D. and left a message congratulating him on his bighorn sheep kill actually Kevin E.s.

So when he called me back, he said, Youre not the first one thats said that. … Ive had two other people call and say, Hey, I didnt know you were a hunter. You got a bighorn sheep? Oh my gosh!

Kevin E. continues, Youve got people coming up to you all the time. Ive gotten calls from guys that are working with Kevin in the National Guard and they look it up in the phone book, so they call me and leave messages. They call me and I say, Im not the one youre looking for.

I havent gotten any of his payroll checks or anything useful, Kevin E. says with a laugh. I really look forward to that.

A lucky name

Alan St. John, an author and photographer in Bend, jokes that he, too, would like to get checks intended for a National Geographic Explorer writer with the same name.

A guy did a story about Mt. Bachelor snowboarding classes or something, and hes Allen St. John. This guy doesnt live here, as far as I know.

Still, Alan St. John got Allen St. Johns address and number from a mutual publisher. He wrote him a letter that was never acknowledged.

Wish I could say that National Geographic accidentally sent me a big paycheck for the other guys article. But maybe Ive done work for them and theyve paid him, Alan St. John says, chuckling.

Though hes never met his byline doppelganger, he has met a Central Oregon Alan St. John, a sign maker, songwriter and music promoter from Madras.

This Madras Alan St. John wasnt born with the name.

He picked it out of a phone book.

I was actually born Alan McKinney, and then my stepdad adopted me and it became Smith, which I always hated and never wanted in the first place.

So he decided it was time to pick a new name, one that would allow him to keep his initials.

I had a bunch of stuff monogrammed with the initials A.S., so I took all the Ss in the phone book, I closed my eyes and I set my finger down, and theres this guy named Alan St. John in Austin, Texas. Thats how I came up with the name.

It must have come with some currency, because luck came with picking the name.

It opened all these doors to me, St. John says. I started getting into the music business and did a little modeling for Western clothes. (If he had a reciprocal affect on his Austin namesakes career, he doesnt say.)

St. John of Madras recalls meeting the Bend St. John at a photography function in downtown Bend. I go, Im Alan St. John, and this guy goes, Hey, buddy come here! and introduces me to the other Alan St. John.

The Madras St. John was glad to learn the other Alan St. John spells his name the same way.

Oh, good, well he can get my bills then.