July 23, 2007
Tomorrow marks nine years since my father passed away.
After he underwent surgery for an aortic aneurysm, I visited my father in the hospital and told him I loved him. Always trying to make people smile, Dad responded, “Well, I’ve grown kind of fond of you, too.”
Two weeks later, my father re-entered the hospital because his surgical wounds had become infected. Pneumonia set in. Then his heart failed. He was only 69.
That night, my sister and I tried to persuade our mother to sleep, but she was frantically sorting through Dad’s nightstand pulling out papers: an Irish blessing, a poem from my brother—and a letter I had written to my father at least 10 years earlier.
My sister began to read the letter aloud, and any semblance of composure I had evaporated into a heart-rending wail and a flood of tears.
Dear Dad,
Hi. I don’t usually write to you, but I want to share with you some feelings I have. It’s important for you to know how much I love you. We sometimes clash and sometimes fight, but you are very special to me Dad. You are truly a very special person.
Sometimes, when your kids act up or sass back, you must wonder why you even bothered with us. I don’t know why you did, sometimes. We can all be real pains in the butt. But we’re also very good people, and we have you to thank for that.
Y’know, Dad, you’ve given each of us an appreciation of the lighter side of life. We’ve learned from you how to laugh, even when things seem to be all upside down. You taught us to look ahead when we’re down. I still remember the time I lost my dorm room and called home crying and you said, “What were you worried about this time last year?”
Well, at the time I didn’t know or care. But the point was well taken, and I’ve often thought of it since.
We all know we can survive, thanks to you. We all know how to laugh. And we care about people—especially the underdog. I know that I sometimes felt like the underdog growing up (middle child syndrome, I guess) but you often stuck up for me, when it seemed the whole world was against me. I’ve never told you how much I appreciated that. You probably figured I didn’t notice.
But I did. And I love you for it.
And, Dad, you taught us to be honest with others. I never even go a penny over on gas without paying for it. I learned that from you. And I know it’s a good standard to live by. And I try.
So Dad, during those times when you get fed up with us, or just feel blue, please remember the good qualities you have. And know that those wonderful traits that make you the person you are are ingrained in each of your children to varying degrees.That’s a legacy nobody can match. After all, you’ve got a half dozen of ’em running around!
So, Dad, I want you to know how much I really do love you. Please don’t forget it, even when it seems like I do (when we fight). Because I never do forget how much I love you.
Julie
I scarcely remember writing the letter. I think my dad had been despondent, or perhaps it was after one of our frequent clashes in my 20s. My dad knew I loved him. I told him in the hospital. But more than that, I told him years ago, before I thought of losing him.
A year ago last spring, I attended a funeral vigil for a 34-year-old Longview man who went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up the next morning. At the vigil, someone stood and read a letter that the man’s sister, who lived in Toledo, had written and mailed to him three years earlier. She thanked him for helping her with homework, attending her sporting events and simply being a wonderful brother and friend.
Although she still grieves his loss, she can take comfort in knowing that she told her brother how much he meant to her. He knew how much she loved him.
Tonight, when the day is done, close your eyes and think about the most important people in your life. What do you want to tell them?
Then write a love letter to your family members—today—and share it with them. Do it now—because tomorrow may never come.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Eyes water viewing Vietnam Traveling Wall
June 25, 2007
Allergies hit hard in Lewis County last week, especially at the Veterans Memorial Museum in Chehalis where eyes watered and voices choked as thousands of people viewed the Vietnam Traveling Wall.
You often hear veterans complain about allergies when they gather together to honor one another and those who never returned home.
I do suffer from allergies, but it was overwhelming emotion that brought tears to my eyes. Standing on Harrison Avenue, waving, I felt dampness on my cheeks as I watched several hundred motorcycles escorting the Wall through town.
My kids thought I was crazy to cry. That’s OK. They’ll understand someday how much it means to have men and women willing to risk life and limb to serve their country.
Viewing the wall at opening ceremonies Thursday, I kept thinking how much different my life might have been. My husband’s name could easily have been etched on that wall, alongside nearly a half dozen of his fellow soldiers in the 25th Infantry’s Company B, 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry. His last day in the field took place Sept. 21, 1968—just 16 days before an Oct. 7 firefight at Hua Nghia killed several of the infantrymen in his platoon.
We saw their names on panel 41-West, listed on two lines: William Shuman, Walter Rice, Roy Koenig and Kenneth Sills.
On the east end of the wall, we saw the name of Donald C. Nelson, my husband’s childhood friend and schoolmate whose casket he helped carry to a gravesite in Bellingham just a few months before he shipped out to Vietnam.
But my husband always referred to these men in more familiar terms, such as Billy Shuman and Donny Nelson, names used by family and friends that make them more real. They will be forever young.
As I walked along the wall with my 12-year-old son, I kept thinking of the nearly 58,450 shattered families who lost a brother, a son, a husband, a father. Or a sister, a daughter, a wife or a mother, since museum director Lee Grimes pointed out that eight nurses also died in Vietnam.
We crossed over to the display of gold dog tags, representing all those who have died in military service since Vietnam. I looked for the names of Joseph P. Bier and Regina Clark, and we found them. Again, tears sprang to my eyes as I thought of the thousands of families who are grieving the loss of their loved ones—an absence that will always be felt. As Grimes said, “Our hearts break for you.”
We owe so much to the military men and women who have served this country. I hope and pray my son never has to fight in a war, but if his country calls, I’m sure he’d serve—just as his dad did, and his grandfather, his great-grandfather, his great-uncles, great-great-uncle, and great-great-great-grandfathers.
Brig. Gen. Richard Read pointed out similarities and differences between the wars in Vietnam and Iraq. He noted both wars are politically unpopular, perhaps entered into without accurate intelligence and without a definitive exit strategy.
But he mentioned important differences—especially the way the returning armed forces are treated.
Returning veterans abandoned the front lines in Vietnam to face hostility at home—no welcome, no parades, no ceremonies.
“We were encouraged not to wear our uniforms in public,” Read said. “We were told not to travel in uniform.”
He said it heartens him to see returning veterans welcomed home, applauded and cheered in airports, given the heroes’ welcome they deserve.
I agree wholeheartedly. The way some people treated returning Vietnam veterans stained this country’s past. It was atrocious. I cannot begin to fathom the mindset of people who would behave in such a way. I was only my son’s age when the war ended, but I wore POW/MIA bracelets and felt incredible joy when men who had been missing in action arrived once again on U.S. soil.
I’m so glad that local Vietnam veterans are finally receiving the kudos they deserve for serving our nation—every year during the Veterans Memorial Museum’s Vietnam Veterans Recognition Day.
I am also grateful to live in Lewis County where patriotism reigns and it’s cool to love your country.
The museum’s staff and volunteers deserve huge thanks for bringing the Wall to Chehalis, providing a wonderful opportunity for us to reflect on the cost of the freedoms we enjoy. As a popular magnetic car sticker so eloquently states, it’s the “land of the free, because of the brave.”
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Allergies hit hard in Lewis County last week, especially at the Veterans Memorial Museum in Chehalis where eyes watered and voices choked as thousands of people viewed the Vietnam Traveling Wall.
You often hear veterans complain about allergies when they gather together to honor one another and those who never returned home.
I do suffer from allergies, but it was overwhelming emotion that brought tears to my eyes. Standing on Harrison Avenue, waving, I felt dampness on my cheeks as I watched several hundred motorcycles escorting the Wall through town.
My kids thought I was crazy to cry. That’s OK. They’ll understand someday how much it means to have men and women willing to risk life and limb to serve their country.
Viewing the wall at opening ceremonies Thursday, I kept thinking how much different my life might have been. My husband’s name could easily have been etched on that wall, alongside nearly a half dozen of his fellow soldiers in the 25th Infantry’s Company B, 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry. His last day in the field took place Sept. 21, 1968—just 16 days before an Oct. 7 firefight at Hua Nghia killed several of the infantrymen in his platoon.
We saw their names on panel 41-West, listed on two lines: William Shuman, Walter Rice, Roy Koenig and Kenneth Sills.
On the east end of the wall, we saw the name of Donald C. Nelson, my husband’s childhood friend and schoolmate whose casket he helped carry to a gravesite in Bellingham just a few months before he shipped out to Vietnam.
But my husband always referred to these men in more familiar terms, such as Billy Shuman and Donny Nelson, names used by family and friends that make them more real. They will be forever young.
As I walked along the wall with my 12-year-old son, I kept thinking of the nearly 58,450 shattered families who lost a brother, a son, a husband, a father. Or a sister, a daughter, a wife or a mother, since museum director Lee Grimes pointed out that eight nurses also died in Vietnam.
We crossed over to the display of gold dog tags, representing all those who have died in military service since Vietnam. I looked for the names of Joseph P. Bier and Regina Clark, and we found them. Again, tears sprang to my eyes as I thought of the thousands of families who are grieving the loss of their loved ones—an absence that will always be felt. As Grimes said, “Our hearts break for you.”
We owe so much to the military men and women who have served this country. I hope and pray my son never has to fight in a war, but if his country calls, I’m sure he’d serve—just as his dad did, and his grandfather, his great-grandfather, his great-uncles, great-great-uncle, and great-great-great-grandfathers.
Brig. Gen. Richard Read pointed out similarities and differences between the wars in Vietnam and Iraq. He noted both wars are politically unpopular, perhaps entered into without accurate intelligence and without a definitive exit strategy.
But he mentioned important differences—especially the way the returning armed forces are treated.
Returning veterans abandoned the front lines in Vietnam to face hostility at home—no welcome, no parades, no ceremonies.
“We were encouraged not to wear our uniforms in public,” Read said. “We were told not to travel in uniform.”
He said it heartens him to see returning veterans welcomed home, applauded and cheered in airports, given the heroes’ welcome they deserve.
I agree wholeheartedly. The way some people treated returning Vietnam veterans stained this country’s past. It was atrocious. I cannot begin to fathom the mindset of people who would behave in such a way. I was only my son’s age when the war ended, but I wore POW/MIA bracelets and felt incredible joy when men who had been missing in action arrived once again on U.S. soil.
I’m so glad that local Vietnam veterans are finally receiving the kudos they deserve for serving our nation—every year during the Veterans Memorial Museum’s Vietnam Veterans Recognition Day.
I am also grateful to live in Lewis County where patriotism reigns and it’s cool to love your country.
The museum’s staff and volunteers deserve huge thanks for bringing the Wall to Chehalis, providing a wonderful opportunity for us to reflect on the cost of the freedoms we enjoy. As a popular magnetic car sticker so eloquently states, it’s the “land of the free, because of the brave.”
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Pain persists years after son's death from cancer
June 18, 2007
In February 2005, Barb and Dan Wilson watched their 15-year-old son die of cancer.
They buried Wyatt Daniel Wilson after memorial at Toledo High School, packed with family members and friends who had supported the family through six years of medical treatment.
Two years later, the pain persists.
“Grief is not a straight line,” said Barb Wilson of Toledo. “You’re going along fine and then just all of a sudden you drop, and then you just climb back up and you’re fine.”
“I just work a lot,” said Dan Wilson, shop foreman in Seattle for Puget Sound Truck Lines. “It still brings tears to your eyes. … It doesn’t get any easier. You just figure out a way to live with it.”
It’s especially tough on holidays, such as Fathers Day, and Wyatt’s birthday and the day he died, Feb. 6. “It never goes away,” he said.
Barb Wilson has seen her share of grief. Her brother, Michael Lee Wright, was killed in Vietnam. Her parents died a year before Wyatt’s death.
“You never forget when it’s a child,” she said, recalling her grandmother’s grief at losing a child to drowning. Forty years later, she said, “Tears would come to her eyes.”
During the turbulent six years of Wyatt’s battle to live, the Wilsons divorced, but they worked together to help their only child. Dan’s medical insurance covered many of the bills, and the Toledo community supported them as well. Barb spent months at a time with Wyatt living in the Ronald McDonald House in Seattle while he received cancer treatment at Children’s Hospital.
At the hospital, Barb said she saw 19 beautiful children fight to live, only to die. One family brought a little girl to the hospital for her first treatment on a Wednesday and she died Friday. Another set of parents watched all four of their boys die before the age of 12. A teenage boy living in the Ronald McDonald House with his mother awoke one morning to learn that his mother had collapsed of a heart attack downstairs and died.
Despite her fear, Barb said she never let Wyatt see her cry.
“You could see the fear in kids’ eyes when the parents would get upset,” she said. When parents stop smiling, children react to the “deer in the headlights” look they see in the eyes of their mother and father.
Many parents wanted to die after burying their children, Barb said. She also contemplated suicide, but couldn’t do that to Wyatt. “He tried so hard to live and for me to end my life, just so pettily, he wouldn’t have been proud of me.”
I cannot begin to imagine the pain these children and their families endured.
I knew Wyatt and his parents only a little through church. Our family attended spaghetti feeds and bought raffle tickets for fund-raisers. Along with so many others in Toledo, we hoped and prayed for a miracle cure that would save his life.
“We wouldn’t have made it without this community,” Barb said, specifically mentioning Mary Rico, Steve McNew, the Ripps and the Kinsmans. “They supported us mentally, physically, food, bills … To have a town come together behind one family like this for six years was just amazing.”
In May 2006, the community dedicated the Wyatt Wilson Memorial Playground in a Toledo park. Although Wyatt is buried in St. Francis Mission’s cemetery, the park is where Barb goes to grieve.
“I see so much sadness at the cemetery. When you go to the park, there’s the big rock there with Wyatt’s picture and the date there … when he was born and when he died. When you look around, it’s happy.”
But Dan, who lives in Auburn, Wash., said he visits the cemetery once or twice a month, bringing flowers and visiting with his son.
Barb and Dan both hop on their Harley Davidson motorcycles for therapy. Wyatt loved riding the Hog with his dad, and Barb began riding while her son was in the hospital. “It was the only thing that would drown out the sound of the hospital.”
Now Barb is hoping the community will help one last time to share recollections of Wyatt’s all-too-brief life in a book. Anyone can contribute a memory or photo online by following this link: http://beta.imemorybook.com/bookshelf/99082/contributions Or contact me at 360-864-6938 or at the email address below.
When he was 9, doctors diagnosed Wyatt with rhabdonmyosarcoma, a rare form of testicular cancer. After a series of surgeries and chemotherapy, he went into remission for two years, but the cancer returned.
Barb recalled one return trip from Seattle in 2004 when she asked her son if he was afraid to die. He shot her that look teenagers give parents who ask a stupid question, then answered: “Why should I be afraid? Grandma and Grandpa are there.”
“I never saw a look of fear in that kid’s eyes ever,” his mother said, adding, “Those six years were everything to me. I got to see him grow up.”
But in December 2004, the family ran out of options.
“Wyatt didn’t want to be in the hospital to die. He wanted to be home,” Barb said. Hospice nurses cared for him at their Toledo home. He lay on a hospital bed in the living room, curled up watching cartoons.
His last night, Wyatt asked his mother, “Why did God give me all this stuff that was so rough?”
“I just put my head down and it’s the first time he ever really saw me cry. And I said, ‘I don’t know, baby, why don’t you ask him? You’ll just have to ask him.’”
Dan, Barb and I all wonder what he answered.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
In February 2005, Barb and Dan Wilson watched their 15-year-old son die of cancer.
They buried Wyatt Daniel Wilson after memorial at Toledo High School, packed with family members and friends who had supported the family through six years of medical treatment.
Two years later, the pain persists.
“Grief is not a straight line,” said Barb Wilson of Toledo. “You’re going along fine and then just all of a sudden you drop, and then you just climb back up and you’re fine.”
“I just work a lot,” said Dan Wilson, shop foreman in Seattle for Puget Sound Truck Lines. “It still brings tears to your eyes. … It doesn’t get any easier. You just figure out a way to live with it.”
It’s especially tough on holidays, such as Fathers Day, and Wyatt’s birthday and the day he died, Feb. 6. “It never goes away,” he said.
Barb Wilson has seen her share of grief. Her brother, Michael Lee Wright, was killed in Vietnam. Her parents died a year before Wyatt’s death.
“You never forget when it’s a child,” she said, recalling her grandmother’s grief at losing a child to drowning. Forty years later, she said, “Tears would come to her eyes.”
During the turbulent six years of Wyatt’s battle to live, the Wilsons divorced, but they worked together to help their only child. Dan’s medical insurance covered many of the bills, and the Toledo community supported them as well. Barb spent months at a time with Wyatt living in the Ronald McDonald House in Seattle while he received cancer treatment at Children’s Hospital.
At the hospital, Barb said she saw 19 beautiful children fight to live, only to die. One family brought a little girl to the hospital for her first treatment on a Wednesday and she died Friday. Another set of parents watched all four of their boys die before the age of 12. A teenage boy living in the Ronald McDonald House with his mother awoke one morning to learn that his mother had collapsed of a heart attack downstairs and died.
Despite her fear, Barb said she never let Wyatt see her cry.
“You could see the fear in kids’ eyes when the parents would get upset,” she said. When parents stop smiling, children react to the “deer in the headlights” look they see in the eyes of their mother and father.
Many parents wanted to die after burying their children, Barb said. She also contemplated suicide, but couldn’t do that to Wyatt. “He tried so hard to live and for me to end my life, just so pettily, he wouldn’t have been proud of me.”
I cannot begin to imagine the pain these children and their families endured.
I knew Wyatt and his parents only a little through church. Our family attended spaghetti feeds and bought raffle tickets for fund-raisers. Along with so many others in Toledo, we hoped and prayed for a miracle cure that would save his life.
“We wouldn’t have made it without this community,” Barb said, specifically mentioning Mary Rico, Steve McNew, the Ripps and the Kinsmans. “They supported us mentally, physically, food, bills … To have a town come together behind one family like this for six years was just amazing.”
In May 2006, the community dedicated the Wyatt Wilson Memorial Playground in a Toledo park. Although Wyatt is buried in St. Francis Mission’s cemetery, the park is where Barb goes to grieve.
“I see so much sadness at the cemetery. When you go to the park, there’s the big rock there with Wyatt’s picture and the date there … when he was born and when he died. When you look around, it’s happy.”
But Dan, who lives in Auburn, Wash., said he visits the cemetery once or twice a month, bringing flowers and visiting with his son.
Barb and Dan both hop on their Harley Davidson motorcycles for therapy. Wyatt loved riding the Hog with his dad, and Barb began riding while her son was in the hospital. “It was the only thing that would drown out the sound of the hospital.”
Now Barb is hoping the community will help one last time to share recollections of Wyatt’s all-too-brief life in a book. Anyone can contribute a memory or photo online by following this link: http://beta.imemorybook.com/bookshelf/99082/contributions Or contact me at 360-864-6938 or at the email address below.
When he was 9, doctors diagnosed Wyatt with rhabdonmyosarcoma, a rare form of testicular cancer. After a series of surgeries and chemotherapy, he went into remission for two years, but the cancer returned.
Barb recalled one return trip from Seattle in 2004 when she asked her son if he was afraid to die. He shot her that look teenagers give parents who ask a stupid question, then answered: “Why should I be afraid? Grandma and Grandpa are there.”
“I never saw a look of fear in that kid’s eyes ever,” his mother said, adding, “Those six years were everything to me. I got to see him grow up.”
But in December 2004, the family ran out of options.
“Wyatt didn’t want to be in the hospital to die. He wanted to be home,” Barb said. Hospice nurses cared for him at their Toledo home. He lay on a hospital bed in the living room, curled up watching cartoons.
His last night, Wyatt asked his mother, “Why did God give me all this stuff that was so rough?”
“I just put my head down and it’s the first time he ever really saw me cry. And I said, ‘I don’t know, baby, why don’t you ask him? You’ll just have to ask him.’”
Dan, Barb and I all wonder what he answered.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Triumph and Tragedy: 1919 Centralia Massacre performance
June 11, 2007
After graduating from high school over the weekend, three young women from the Twin Cities boarded a plane for a trip to Maryland, where they’ll compete Wednesday in the National History Day 2007 contest.
The girls—Abby Anderson, Marie Jenkins and Emily Weeks—treated a standing-room-only crowd of more than 50 last Wednesday afternoon at the Lewis County Historical Museum to a dry run of the performance they’ll be giving called “Triumph and Tragedy: 1919 Centralia Massacre.”
I enjoyed watching the talented young women bring controversial local history to life in a balanced performance that simultaneously educated and entertained. Before they started, history professor Jody Peterson of Centralia College presented the girls with a check for more than $1,500, money used by the college in the past to host the regional History Day competition, which now takes place at Green River Community College.
After the performance, the girls answered questions from the audience, including what they found most difficult in creating the skit. Finding a balance between two competing storylines—the American Legion’s version and that of the Wobblies, or Industrial Workers of the World—they said, noting during the skit that, “Who shot first is open for debate.”
The route for a parade celebrating the first Armistice Day on Nov. 11, 1919, went past the IWW headquarters twice, and four Legionnaires died in a gunfight that broke out. That evening, when lights flickered out at the jail, a mob grabbed IWW member Wesley Everest and hanged him from the old Mellen Street Bridge. The girls ended the skit with the comment, “History can be remembered without pointing the finger of blame.”
Whether the women rank high at the national contest, they will return home as winners. They successfully competed at regional and statewide contests. They performed in their own community to rave reviews. They researched their subject thoroughly, reviewing articles, books and microfilm at the Timberland Regional Library and digging through oral history interviews and photos at the Lewis County Historical Museum. They published a 23-page bibliography.
As I watched the girls perform, I recalled my own experience in the early 1970s, before the advent of National History Day, when as an eighth-grader I teamed with a friend to create a skit about Bent’s Fort, built in 1833 along the mountain branch of the Santa Fe Trail in southeast Colorado. We performed the roles of fort founders William and Charles Bent and Ceran St. Vrain, with a special appearance by frequent visitor Kit Carson, a legendary frontiersman, scout and former Union Army general. We also built a sugar cube replica of the old adobe fort, spray-painted brown. Our teacher, Ms. Schmeiser, asked if we would donate the replica and the tape recording to the local museum, so we did. I wonder if it’s still there.
As I listened, I heard Anderson say that she and Jenkins first developed a skit on the Centralia Massacre in Diane Pope’s seventh grade class at Centralia Middle School. At the time, Alison Burchett, who is Miss Lewis County, performed the role now held by Emily Weeks of Chehalis. Weeks, also a student of Pope’s, moved to Chehalis but maintained her friendship with Anderson and Jenkins. They built their set, wrote the script, created costumes, and practiced their 10-minute performance after school and on weekends.
The girls credited their former teacher as their inspiration.
“To say that I inspired them was overstating it,” said Pope, who watched the girls’ performance last week. “I’m thrilled with their achievement. I’m just glad that I had a little part of it in the beginning.”
As part of a middle school gifted and talented program, Anderson, Jenkins and Burchett had to complete a humanities course that included creating a National History Day project, Pope said.
“There’s no requirement but lots of kids keep doing it right on through high school,” she said. “They keep doing all that work on their own time.”
In 1993, Pope accompanied a group of five Centralia students to the national competition, where they performed a skit about the Whitman Massacre. Although they didn’t win, they enjoyed touring historic places near Washington, D.C.
She recalled trips to the Washington History Day contest when, whether they won or not, students on the trip home would start planning their projects for the next year.
“All the work resulted in something even if they didn’t win a prize,” she said. “They would always come away feeling really good about what they accomplished.”
Anderson, Jenkins and Weeks should be congratulated for creating history projects and competing statewide and nationally.
And kudos to teachers like Pope and Schmeiser who plant the seeds for a love of history. Sometimes they reap a harvest right away; other times it can take decades before that love of history sprouts—perhaps into a full-time profession.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
After graduating from high school over the weekend, three young women from the Twin Cities boarded a plane for a trip to Maryland, where they’ll compete Wednesday in the National History Day 2007 contest.
The girls—Abby Anderson, Marie Jenkins and Emily Weeks—treated a standing-room-only crowd of more than 50 last Wednesday afternoon at the Lewis County Historical Museum to a dry run of the performance they’ll be giving called “Triumph and Tragedy: 1919 Centralia Massacre.”
I enjoyed watching the talented young women bring controversial local history to life in a balanced performance that simultaneously educated and entertained. Before they started, history professor Jody Peterson of Centralia College presented the girls with a check for more than $1,500, money used by the college in the past to host the regional History Day competition, which now takes place at Green River Community College.
After the performance, the girls answered questions from the audience, including what they found most difficult in creating the skit. Finding a balance between two competing storylines—the American Legion’s version and that of the Wobblies, or Industrial Workers of the World—they said, noting during the skit that, “Who shot first is open for debate.”
The route for a parade celebrating the first Armistice Day on Nov. 11, 1919, went past the IWW headquarters twice, and four Legionnaires died in a gunfight that broke out. That evening, when lights flickered out at the jail, a mob grabbed IWW member Wesley Everest and hanged him from the old Mellen Street Bridge. The girls ended the skit with the comment, “History can be remembered without pointing the finger of blame.”
Whether the women rank high at the national contest, they will return home as winners. They successfully competed at regional and statewide contests. They performed in their own community to rave reviews. They researched their subject thoroughly, reviewing articles, books and microfilm at the Timberland Regional Library and digging through oral history interviews and photos at the Lewis County Historical Museum. They published a 23-page bibliography.
As I watched the girls perform, I recalled my own experience in the early 1970s, before the advent of National History Day, when as an eighth-grader I teamed with a friend to create a skit about Bent’s Fort, built in 1833 along the mountain branch of the Santa Fe Trail in southeast Colorado. We performed the roles of fort founders William and Charles Bent and Ceran St. Vrain, with a special appearance by frequent visitor Kit Carson, a legendary frontiersman, scout and former Union Army general. We also built a sugar cube replica of the old adobe fort, spray-painted brown. Our teacher, Ms. Schmeiser, asked if we would donate the replica and the tape recording to the local museum, so we did. I wonder if it’s still there.
As I listened, I heard Anderson say that she and Jenkins first developed a skit on the Centralia Massacre in Diane Pope’s seventh grade class at Centralia Middle School. At the time, Alison Burchett, who is Miss Lewis County, performed the role now held by Emily Weeks of Chehalis. Weeks, also a student of Pope’s, moved to Chehalis but maintained her friendship with Anderson and Jenkins. They built their set, wrote the script, created costumes, and practiced their 10-minute performance after school and on weekends.
The girls credited their former teacher as their inspiration.
“To say that I inspired them was overstating it,” said Pope, who watched the girls’ performance last week. “I’m thrilled with their achievement. I’m just glad that I had a little part of it in the beginning.”
As part of a middle school gifted and talented program, Anderson, Jenkins and Burchett had to complete a humanities course that included creating a National History Day project, Pope said.
“There’s no requirement but lots of kids keep doing it right on through high school,” she said. “They keep doing all that work on their own time.”
In 1993, Pope accompanied a group of five Centralia students to the national competition, where they performed a skit about the Whitman Massacre. Although they didn’t win, they enjoyed touring historic places near Washington, D.C.
She recalled trips to the Washington History Day contest when, whether they won or not, students on the trip home would start planning their projects for the next year.
“All the work resulted in something even if they didn’t win a prize,” she said. “They would always come away feeling really good about what they accomplished.”
Anderson, Jenkins and Weeks should be congratulated for creating history projects and competing statewide and nationally.
And kudos to teachers like Pope and Schmeiser who plant the seeds for a love of history. Sometimes they reap a harvest right away; other times it can take decades before that love of history sprouts—perhaps into a full-time profession.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Trips reward students for good grades, behavior
June 4, 2007
Instead of hitting the books, hundreds of local middle school children this month will spend a day plunging down water slides at Wild Waves as a reward for good grades or great behavior. Others will don roller skates, take in a baseball game or enjoy a barbecue at Borst Park.
Incentive trips for local students who excel scholastically or make good behavior choices have been in place at many local school districts for more than a decade.
But they’re new to me, probably because it’s been beyond a quarter of a century since my junior high years.
When I attended school in Longmont, Colo., I remember rejoicing when I received an A on my report card. I enjoyed earning good grades, but it meant something more: free admission to the roller-skating rink.
With six kids in a low-income family, we had very little extra money for recreation. For the most part, we stayed home, played at the school grounds and made our own fun.
But when report cards arrived, we rushed to the roller rink to claim a punch card with a free admission spot for every A received. That’s the only way I learned to skate.
Students should work hard for good grades regardless of any incentives, and they do. But the school-sponsored trips provide an official atta-boy or atta-girl, on top of the satisfaction students derive from doing well.
Third-quarter honor roll students at Mossyrock—those with a 3.0 GPA and no D’s or F’s—will be treated to a baseball game this week. Twenty-four high school kids will see a Mariners’ game and 42 junior high students—more than 40 percent of the school’s enrollment—will watch the Tacoma Rainiers play. Eighty-five Rochester Middle School students who earned a 3.25 GPA for the first two trimesters—17 percent of the enrollment—are visiting Wild Waves today.
What about the kids who struggle academically? Many districts provide a fun end-of-the-year trip for students who make it through the school year without receiving any written infractions for behavior or other problems—a goal attainable by all students.
Centralia Middle School students with good behavior for two years receive a fun outing, such as a trip to Wild Waves or a barbecue at Borst Park. Onalaska students with an 85 percent attendance record and no discipline problems or F’s will be roller-skating tomorrow.
For students achieving a 3.2 GPA or above, Toledo Middle School offered honor roll field trips at the end of the first, second and third quarters—bowling, skating and a Portland Beavers game—but the last quarter trip to Wild Waves is reserved for students who made it through the year without a written infraction.
“The school pays for the bus and driver and getting to the site,” Principal Bill Waag said. “We try to keep the cost of the trip to a minimal amount. The kids come up with the admission fee.”
If a student can’t afford the fee, he said, teachers or others often pitch in to cover the cost. The trips usually take place when the school has a half-day of classes scheduled.
The district started the behavior-only trip three or four years ago, Waag said. This year 160 of the school’s 240 students qualified.
“That’s really a big incentive for kids to make right decisions,” he said. “We tend to have more and more qualified for the trip each year.”
More than 300 Chehalis Middle School students who received no infractions during the year—dubbed All-Stars—will be skating and eating lunch for free at the Centralia Rollerdrome next week. The 317 students represent more than 48 percent of the school’s student body.
“I think it’s worthy because those students who do the right thing and follow the rules, they get rewarded for doing that,” said Sue Austin, librarian. “We’ve got a lot of good kids here. There are just some students that have more trouble with the academics but they certainly behave themselves and are good citizens.”
Chehalis students who earn a 3.5 or higher grade point average, or those who raise their grade point average by half a point, receive a color-coded reward sticker on their ASB cards entitling them to free items or discounts at local businesses. Students who earn a 4.0 grade point average are treated to a special breakfast at school.
You’ve heard the adage, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Well, it turns out Jack isn’t so very dull after all—when hard work means he can play at the end of the year.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is http://www.chaptersoflife.com/ She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Instead of hitting the books, hundreds of local middle school children this month will spend a day plunging down water slides at Wild Waves as a reward for good grades or great behavior. Others will don roller skates, take in a baseball game or enjoy a barbecue at Borst Park.
Incentive trips for local students who excel scholastically or make good behavior choices have been in place at many local school districts for more than a decade.
But they’re new to me, probably because it’s been beyond a quarter of a century since my junior high years.
When I attended school in Longmont, Colo., I remember rejoicing when I received an A on my report card. I enjoyed earning good grades, but it meant something more: free admission to the roller-skating rink.
With six kids in a low-income family, we had very little extra money for recreation. For the most part, we stayed home, played at the school grounds and made our own fun.
But when report cards arrived, we rushed to the roller rink to claim a punch card with a free admission spot for every A received. That’s the only way I learned to skate.
Students should work hard for good grades regardless of any incentives, and they do. But the school-sponsored trips provide an official atta-boy or atta-girl, on top of the satisfaction students derive from doing well.
Third-quarter honor roll students at Mossyrock—those with a 3.0 GPA and no D’s or F’s—will be treated to a baseball game this week. Twenty-four high school kids will see a Mariners’ game and 42 junior high students—more than 40 percent of the school’s enrollment—will watch the Tacoma Rainiers play. Eighty-five Rochester Middle School students who earned a 3.25 GPA for the first two trimesters—17 percent of the enrollment—are visiting Wild Waves today.
What about the kids who struggle academically? Many districts provide a fun end-of-the-year trip for students who make it through the school year without receiving any written infractions for behavior or other problems—a goal attainable by all students.
Centralia Middle School students with good behavior for two years receive a fun outing, such as a trip to Wild Waves or a barbecue at Borst Park. Onalaska students with an 85 percent attendance record and no discipline problems or F’s will be roller-skating tomorrow.
For students achieving a 3.2 GPA or above, Toledo Middle School offered honor roll field trips at the end of the first, second and third quarters—bowling, skating and a Portland Beavers game—but the last quarter trip to Wild Waves is reserved for students who made it through the year without a written infraction.
“The school pays for the bus and driver and getting to the site,” Principal Bill Waag said. “We try to keep the cost of the trip to a minimal amount. The kids come up with the admission fee.”
If a student can’t afford the fee, he said, teachers or others often pitch in to cover the cost. The trips usually take place when the school has a half-day of classes scheduled.
The district started the behavior-only trip three or four years ago, Waag said. This year 160 of the school’s 240 students qualified.
“That’s really a big incentive for kids to make right decisions,” he said. “We tend to have more and more qualified for the trip each year.”
More than 300 Chehalis Middle School students who received no infractions during the year—dubbed All-Stars—will be skating and eating lunch for free at the Centralia Rollerdrome next week. The 317 students represent more than 48 percent of the school’s student body.
“I think it’s worthy because those students who do the right thing and follow the rules, they get rewarded for doing that,” said Sue Austin, librarian. “We’ve got a lot of good kids here. There are just some students that have more trouble with the academics but they certainly behave themselves and are good citizens.”
Chehalis students who earn a 3.5 or higher grade point average, or those who raise their grade point average by half a point, receive a color-coded reward sticker on their ASB cards entitling them to free items or discounts at local businesses. Students who earn a 4.0 grade point average are treated to a special breakfast at school.
You’ve heard the adage, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Well, it turns out Jack isn’t so very dull after all—when hard work means he can play at the end of the year.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is http://www.chaptersoflife.com/ She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Trips reward students for good grades, behavior
Instead of hitting the books, hundreds of local middle school children this month will spend a day plunging down water slides at Wild Waves as a reward for good grades or great behavior. Others will don roller skates, take in a baseball game or enjoy a barbecue at Borst Park.
Incentive trips for local students who excel scholastically or make good behavior choices have been in place at many local school districts for more than a decade.
But they’re new to me, probably because it’s been beyond a quarter of a century since my junior high years.
When I attended school in Longmont, Colo., I remember rejoicing when I received an A on my report card. I enjoyed earning good grades, but it meant something more: free admission to the roller-skating rink.
With six kids in a low-income family, we had very little extra money for recreation. For the most part, we stayed home, played at the school grounds and made our own fun.
But when report cards arrived, we rushed to the roller rink to claim a punch card with a free admission spot for every A received. That’s the only way I learned to skate.
Students should work hard for good grades regardless of any incentives, and they do. But the school-sponsored trips provide an official atta-boy or atta-girl, on top of the satisfaction students derive from doing well.
Third-quarter honor roll students at Mossyrock—those with a 3.0 GPA and no D’s or F’s—will be treated to a baseball game this week. Twenty-four high school kids will see a Mariners’ game and 42 junior high students—more than 40 percent of the school’s enrollment—will watch the Tacoma Rainiers play. Eighty-five Rochester Middle School students who earned a 3.25 GPA for the first two trimesters—17 percent of the enrollment—are visiting Wild Waves today.
What about the kids who struggle academically? Many districts provide a fun end-of-the-year trip for students who make it through the school year without receiving any written infractions for behavior or other problems—a goal attainable by all students.
Centralia Middle School students with good behavior for two years receive a fun outing, such as a trip to Wild Waves or a barbecue at Borst Park. Onalaska students with an 85 percent attendance record and no discipline problems or F’s will be roller-skating tomorrow.
For students achieving a 3.2 GPA or above, Toledo Middle School offered honor roll field trips at the end of the first, second and third quarters—bowling, skating and a Portland Beavers game—but the last quarter trip to Wild Waves is reserved for students who made it through the year without a written infraction.
“The school pays for the bus and driver and getting to the site,” Principal Bill Waag said. “We try to keep the cost of the trip to a minimal amount. The kids come up with the admission fee.”
If a student can’t afford the fee, he said, teachers or others often pitch in to cover the cost. The trips usually take place when the school has a half-day of classes scheduled.
The district started the behavior-only trip three or four years ago, Waag said. This year 160 of the school’s 240 students qualified.
“That’s really a big incentive for kids to make right decisions,” he said. “We tend to have more and more qualified for the trip each year.”
More than 300 Chehalis Middle School students who received no infractions during the year—dubbed All-Stars—will be skating and eating lunch for free at the Centralia Rollerdrome next week. The 317 students represent more than 48 percent of the school’s student body.
“I think it’s worthy because those students who do the right thing and follow the rules, they get rewarded for doing that,” said Sue Austin, librarian. “We’ve got a lot of good kids here. There are just some students that have more trouble with the academics but they certainly behave themselves and are good citizens.”
Chehalis students who earn a 3.5 or higher grade point average, or those who raise their grade point average by half a point, receive a color-coded reward sticker on their ASB cards entitling them to free items or discounts at local businesses. Students who earn a 4.0 grade point average are treated to a special breakfast at school.
You’ve heard the adage, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Well, it turns out Jack isn’t so very dull after all—when hard work means he can play at the end of the year.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Instead of hitting the books, hundreds of local middle school children this month will spend a day plunging down water slides at Wild Waves as a reward for good grades or great behavior. Others will don roller skates, take in a baseball game or enjoy a barbecue at Borst Park.
Incentive trips for local students who excel scholastically or make good behavior choices have been in place at many local school districts for more than a decade.
But they’re new to me, probably because it’s been beyond a quarter of a century since my junior high years.
When I attended school in Longmont, Colo., I remember rejoicing when I received an A on my report card. I enjoyed earning good grades, but it meant something more: free admission to the roller-skating rink.
With six kids in a low-income family, we had very little extra money for recreation. For the most part, we stayed home, played at the school grounds and made our own fun.
But when report cards arrived, we rushed to the roller rink to claim a punch card with a free admission spot for every A received. That’s the only way I learned to skate.
Students should work hard for good grades regardless of any incentives, and they do. But the school-sponsored trips provide an official atta-boy or atta-girl, on top of the satisfaction students derive from doing well.
Third-quarter honor roll students at Mossyrock—those with a 3.0 GPA and no D’s or F’s—will be treated to a baseball game this week. Twenty-four high school kids will see a Mariners’ game and 42 junior high students—more than 40 percent of the school’s enrollment—will watch the Tacoma Rainiers play. Eighty-five Rochester Middle School students who earned a 3.25 GPA for the first two trimesters—17 percent of the enrollment—are visiting Wild Waves today.
What about the kids who struggle academically? Many districts provide a fun end-of-the-year trip for students who make it through the school year without receiving any written infractions for behavior or other problems—a goal attainable by all students.
Centralia Middle School students with good behavior for two years receive a fun outing, such as a trip to Wild Waves or a barbecue at Borst Park. Onalaska students with an 85 percent attendance record and no discipline problems or F’s will be roller-skating tomorrow.
For students achieving a 3.2 GPA or above, Toledo Middle School offered honor roll field trips at the end of the first, second and third quarters—bowling, skating and a Portland Beavers game—but the last quarter trip to Wild Waves is reserved for students who made it through the year without a written infraction.
“The school pays for the bus and driver and getting to the site,” Principal Bill Waag said. “We try to keep the cost of the trip to a minimal amount. The kids come up with the admission fee.”
If a student can’t afford the fee, he said, teachers or others often pitch in to cover the cost. The trips usually take place when the school has a half-day of classes scheduled.
The district started the behavior-only trip three or four years ago, Waag said. This year 160 of the school’s 240 students qualified.
“That’s really a big incentive for kids to make right decisions,” he said. “We tend to have more and more qualified for the trip each year.”
More than 300 Chehalis Middle School students who received no infractions during the year—dubbed All-Stars—will be skating and eating lunch for free at the Centralia Rollerdrome next week. The 317 students represent more than 48 percent of the school’s student body.
“I think it’s worthy because those students who do the right thing and follow the rules, they get rewarded for doing that,” said Sue Austin, librarian. “We’ve got a lot of good kids here. There are just some students that have more trouble with the academics but they certainly behave themselves and are good citizens.”
Chehalis students who earn a 3.5 or higher grade point average, or those who raise their grade point average by half a point, receive a color-coded reward sticker on their ASB cards entitling them to free items or discounts at local businesses. Students who earn a 4.0 grade point average are treated to a special breakfast at school.
You’ve heard the adage, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Well, it turns out Jack isn’t so very dull after all—when hard work means he can play at the end of the year.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Wall offers chance to honor the Cost of Freedom
May 28, 2007
You and I can attend any church we want. We can gather in public and discuss—or even criticize—our government and our leaders. We can buy guns to protect ourselves.
These are just a few of the many freedoms we enjoy in the wonderful country of ours, the United States of America. But the freedoms we often take for granted came with a price—many heartaches and tears as brave men and women fell in battle—and that’s the true Cost of Freedom.
On this Memorial Day, we should remember all those men and women who have paid the ultimate price for securing our freedoms. We can honor them again next month, when the American Veterans Traveling Tribute comes to the Veterans Memorial Museum in Chehalis June 20 through 24, in conjunction with the museum’s Vietnam Veterans Remembrance Day June 23.
The tribute features:
A 370-foot-long, 80 percent replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in our nation’s capital, listing the names of 58,453 people who died or went missing in Vietnam.
Nine panels with dog tags mark the names of military men and women who died for our country since 1973—in Desert Storm, Saudi Arabia, Libya, Lebanon, El Salvador, Grenada, Panama, Somalia, and aboard the USS Cole.
Another panel listing the names of all 2,948 civilians killed during the terrorist attack on our nation Sept. 11, 2001.
Other memorials recognizing the thousands of military men and women who died during the Korean War, World War II and World War I, the Spanish-American War, the Civil War, the Mexican War, the War of 1812, and the Revolutionary War.
Three honored guests will speak:
Sergeant Major Norm Hayes served in both the Vietnam War and the War on Terrorism.
Col. Bob Howard is an Alabama native who served five tours in Vietnam with the Green Berets. He won the Congressional Medal of Honor recipient, and is one of America’s most decorated soldiers—and perhaps the single most decorated soldier from the Vietnam War.
And Pat Swanson, a local Army veteran, will speak during closing ceremonies.
Before visiting the wall, we can learn more about many of the Pacific Northwest veterans who served in Vietnam, thanks to a fabulous Internet Web site called Faces from the Wall, at http://www.facesfromthewall.com/ According to the site, put together by Darilee Bednar of Marysville, Wash., the effort started in 2002 to “place faces to the names of the 1,050 Washington State men whose names are on the Vietnam Memorial Wall.” The site, which includes some photos of the veterans, lists information about 23 men from Lewis County who died or went missing during the Vietnam War.
The site includes information on veterans from Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana. It also has grown to include Washington veterans who served in Korea, Afghanistan and Iraq as well as American civilians who died in Vietnam and Laos.
Nobody wants war. It’s never the first option—always the last resort—but sometimes we must fight to protect our freedom. We did not ask to be attacked on Sept. 11th, just as we never asked to be attacked on Dec. 7, 1941, at Pearl Harbor.
History shows that many innocent Jewish men, women and children perished in concentration camps during those years when the United States hesitated to enter World War II. If we had refused to fight after the attack on Pearl Harbor, where would we be today? Would we be free to gather, worship, speak, and criticize?
Thank God we have brave men and women who are willing to fight for this nation. We must support those troops who face danger daily to protect freedom here and abroad.
Given the fact that millions of young Americans have served in our military throughout the centuries to protect our way of life, we should be able to take a few hours next month to let our servicemen and women know that they—and their sacrifices—will never be forgotten.
Visit the American Veterans Traveling Tribute at the museum June 20 through 24. Reassure the military men and women who returned home that we cherish the freedoms we enjoy—we recognize the price paid by those who didn’t survive—and we will always honor and appreciate the Cost of Freedom.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
You and I can attend any church we want. We can gather in public and discuss—or even criticize—our government and our leaders. We can buy guns to protect ourselves.
These are just a few of the many freedoms we enjoy in the wonderful country of ours, the United States of America. But the freedoms we often take for granted came with a price—many heartaches and tears as brave men and women fell in battle—and that’s the true Cost of Freedom.
On this Memorial Day, we should remember all those men and women who have paid the ultimate price for securing our freedoms. We can honor them again next month, when the American Veterans Traveling Tribute comes to the Veterans Memorial Museum in Chehalis June 20 through 24, in conjunction with the museum’s Vietnam Veterans Remembrance Day June 23.
The tribute features:
A 370-foot-long, 80 percent replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in our nation’s capital, listing the names of 58,453 people who died or went missing in Vietnam.
Nine panels with dog tags mark the names of military men and women who died for our country since 1973—in Desert Storm, Saudi Arabia, Libya, Lebanon, El Salvador, Grenada, Panama, Somalia, and aboard the USS Cole.
Another panel listing the names of all 2,948 civilians killed during the terrorist attack on our nation Sept. 11, 2001.
Other memorials recognizing the thousands of military men and women who died during the Korean War, World War II and World War I, the Spanish-American War, the Civil War, the Mexican War, the War of 1812, and the Revolutionary War.
Three honored guests will speak:
Sergeant Major Norm Hayes served in both the Vietnam War and the War on Terrorism.
Col. Bob Howard is an Alabama native who served five tours in Vietnam with the Green Berets. He won the Congressional Medal of Honor recipient, and is one of America’s most decorated soldiers—and perhaps the single most decorated soldier from the Vietnam War.
And Pat Swanson, a local Army veteran, will speak during closing ceremonies.
Before visiting the wall, we can learn more about many of the Pacific Northwest veterans who served in Vietnam, thanks to a fabulous Internet Web site called Faces from the Wall, at http://www.facesfromthewall.com/ According to the site, put together by Darilee Bednar of Marysville, Wash., the effort started in 2002 to “place faces to the names of the 1,050 Washington State men whose names are on the Vietnam Memorial Wall.” The site, which includes some photos of the veterans, lists information about 23 men from Lewis County who died or went missing during the Vietnam War.
The site includes information on veterans from Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana. It also has grown to include Washington veterans who served in Korea, Afghanistan and Iraq as well as American civilians who died in Vietnam and Laos.
Nobody wants war. It’s never the first option—always the last resort—but sometimes we must fight to protect our freedom. We did not ask to be attacked on Sept. 11th, just as we never asked to be attacked on Dec. 7, 1941, at Pearl Harbor.
History shows that many innocent Jewish men, women and children perished in concentration camps during those years when the United States hesitated to enter World War II. If we had refused to fight after the attack on Pearl Harbor, where would we be today? Would we be free to gather, worship, speak, and criticize?
Thank God we have brave men and women who are willing to fight for this nation. We must support those troops who face danger daily to protect freedom here and abroad.
Given the fact that millions of young Americans have served in our military throughout the centuries to protect our way of life, we should be able to take a few hours next month to let our servicemen and women know that they—and their sacrifices—will never be forgotten.
Visit the American Veterans Traveling Tribute at the museum June 20 through 24. Reassure the military men and women who returned home that we cherish the freedoms we enjoy—we recognize the price paid by those who didn’t survive—and we will always honor and appreciate the Cost of Freedom.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
Toastmasters helps improve public speaking skills
May 21, 2007
An American survey shows that people fear public speaking more than they worry about dying. According to Dale Carnegie literature, public speaking topped the list of the 14 worst human fears, followed by heights, insects and bugs, financial problems, deep water, sickness and death.
“That means if you’re the average person, if you have to be at a funeral, you would rather be in the casket than doing the eulogy,” Jerry Seinfeld said in 1998, in “I’m Telling You for the Last Time.”
I can believe it. Two years ago, I received a call from the powers-that-be in the Association of Personal Historians asking if I would organize its 2006 international conference in Portland. I hesitated—not because I worried about planning the conference, which I knew I could do, but because I trembled at the thought of speaking in front of hundreds of people.
After agreeing to organize the event, I attended the 2005 conference at Grand Rapids, Mich., where I was scheduled to briefly mention our plans. Terrified, I stood before 160-plus people and rapidly babbled about speakers, the city, and who knows what else. Afterward, our APH operations manager told me, “Julie, you’re supposed to take a breath at the periods.”
Back in the mid-1980s, as a Chronicle reporter, I had been invited to White Pass High School’s career day to talk about life in journalism. I prepared my remarks, which were supposed to last for a half-hour, and rushed through everything within 10 minutes. Feeling like a failure, I joined Toastmasters for a short time, which met at the Back Door Restaurant in Chehalis, I believe. But I never stuck with it. How I wish I had!
In the late 1980s, I remember sitting in a room with fellow reporters at the Daily News in Longview, where we were supposed to share some of our favorite writing. I started reading the lyrics to a powerful Irish song but my voice shook, my stomach churned, my heart beat quickly and my voice trailed off …
So, in February 2006, I persuaded my friend, Edna Fund, to accompany me to a gathering of the Chehalis-Centralia Toastmasters, which meets at noon Mondays in the Hanson Building at Centralia College. We both joined.
The first Toastmasters club met Oct. 22, 1924, in the YMCA at Santa Ana, Calif., with the aim of helping others to speak more effectively. Since then, Toastmasters International has helped nearly four million men and women learn and practice public speaking, and now has 211,000 members in 10,500 clubs in 90 countries, according to its press release.
A typical Toastmasters club meets weekly or biweekly to learn and practice public speaking skills. The Chehalis-Centralia Toastmasters Club No. 1290, which members like to refer to as The Mighty 1290, usually has 20-plus members who gather in a semi-circle with a lectern front and center where each week people give prepared speeches and others take on roles as toastmaster, joke teller, leader of the invocation and flag salute, timer, grammarian and general evaluator.
Crucial to the meetings are the evaluators—club members who volunteer to offer positive feedback and constructive criticism of the prepared speeches. From the evaluations, speakers learn what worked in their speeches and how they can improve their public speaking skills.
One of the Mighty 1290’s master evaluators is Harry Green, who won the club, area and division speech evaluation contests this spring and competed Saturday at the district level, where he performed well but didn't place among the top three contestants out of 60 clubs in Western Washington.
Newcomers also learn from the more seasoned public speakers in the club, such as Green, John Panesko, Bob Killillay, Cindie Jackson, Dave Clark, Roland Jones and Lois Lockhart, among others.
Joining a Toastmasters club is easy. It’s also affordable, with dues of less than $100 a year. The group offers a supportive environment to learn how to speak in public without fear and trembling, improving with each speech. Members also enhance their impromptu speaking skills by answering a question posed by that day’s topicmaster. Each member usually must answer the question in 45 seconds to one minute 15 seconds.
As 2006 progressed, I received a couple of invitations to speak before the Northwest Independent Editors Guild and the Chehalis Rotary. In the past, I would have answered such requests with an emphatic, “No.” But, because of Toastmasters training, I agreed to speak.
By the time October rolled around, I felt ready to speak at the international conference. I practiced the speech at Toastmasters the Monday before I had to give it before 260-plus people on Thursday.
I spoke slowly and enunciated clearly. I involved the audience. I still trembled a bit but few people noticed.
Afterward, in the hallway prior to our keynote speaker’s session, the former APH president—a woman from Houston who now lives in New York—stopped me. “Julie,” she said, “I just have to ask—Did you join Toastmasters?”
If Toastmasters helped me improve my public speaking skills, it can do wonders for anyone. Visit a meeting to see what it’s like, and then decide whether to join.
May 14 column
East county towns may be lost, but their history is never forgotten
Water skiers skimming over the glassy blue surface of Riffe Lake may never realize that beneath the deep waters once resided the citizens of Kosmos, Fulton, Nesika and Riffe.
An exhibit that opened Saturday and runs until October at the Lewis County Historical Museum focuses on stories from the east end of the county. Since the museum is in Chehalis, sometimes people in the outlying areas of the county may feel their history is ignored or forgotten. That’s one reason the museum is hosting the exhibit, called “If Towns and Dams Could Talk.”
It’s admirable to reach out to the smaller communities and display their histories in the museum, which bears the name “Lewis County” Historical Museum. History is worth preserving, whether it’s an individual’s, a community’s, a city’s or that of a metropolis. Is Seattle’s history more important to preserve than that of Centralia or Chehalis, just because more people live there? The display on the East End stories is likely to be followed by exhibits highlighting the southern part of the county, the western part and other small communities.
Put together by volunteer curator and museum board member Margie Koher-Lloyd, the exhibit features a display board noting the location of many small communities east of Cinebar and Salkum that were started by early settlers in the late 1800s.
Visitors to the museum will see the wood-framed front door of Joseph and Alice Chilcoat, the first family to settle in the Big Bottom. They’ll see old boxes that once held letters delivered to the Glenoma Post Office; a telephone switchboard discarded as trash by the Eatonville Telephone Co. and retrieved by Van McDaniel’s father, who refurbished it for use in the McDaniel Telephone Co.; and one of the first automatic answering machines—a laptop-sized thee-inch-high Code-A-Phone that debuted in 1957 and weighs nearly 50 pounds.
Artist Sylvia Livermore of Cinebar painted a beautiful winter mountain scene of White Pass as a backdrop for a mannequin on snowshoes with old-fashioned skis and antique sled beside him.
Center stage is an official soap box derby car driven by Harry Richard Hall of Morton in the 1957 Tacoma Soap Box Derby. The green car, which promotes the Morton Loggers Jubilee in red lettering highlighted with yellow shadows, weighed 249½ pounds with Harry at the wheel, while the limit for derby entries was 250 pounds. Behind the car sits the “Fast Time” trophy won by the 14-year-old boy.
Tacoma Power loaned the museum its six-by-six-foot octagon replica of the Mossyrock Dam, which was built in 1968 and backed up the Cowlitz River to create Riffe Lake above the former communities. The utility company purchased the land from property owners and Koher-Lloyd said most of the homes were moved, burned or destroyed. From a boat launch at Riffe Lake, she said, you can still see a cement slab or two and one of the streets of Kosmos (pronounced Koz-mus).
But the highlight for me sat behind glass, a beautiful pink friendship quilt painstakingly pieced together in 1930 by 20 members of the Ladies Aid of the Randle Methodist Church. In April 1930, the society decided to create the friendship quilt to raise money for needy children and families as well as the minister’s $10 monthly fee.
Each of the 20 blue, gray, orange and other colorful squares bears the embroidered name of the person who created it. Looking at the names, I could envision the women—and one man, Forest Service worker John Kirkpatrick—gathered together stitching the fabric and friendships as they worked. One of the women was Koher-Lloyd’s grandmother, Bertha Machill Koher, a German immigrant who married another German immigrant in North Dakota and settled in the Big Bottom Valley in 1890. Working beside her on the quilt were two daughters, Mae Koher Moore and Ella Koher Green, and a daughter-in-law, Ola Jordan Koher.
The ladies sold tickets for the raffle, raising two dollars, but then Max Ogen bought the hand-tied quilt outright for $25. It remained in his family for years, until his daughter, Dorothy Ogen Chubbuck, who lived in California at the time, gave it to a friend who might appreciate it—June Gerwig. After examining it, Gerwig recognized the names of Koher-Lloyd’s relatives, so she gave the quilt to her.
Now Koher-Lloyd, a native of Glenoma who graduated from the White Pass High School in 1964 but now lives in Chehalis, said she plans to donate the friendship quilt to the White Pass Country Historical Society’s museum when it opens, hopefully this summer in the old Packwood Grade School.
The beautiful old quilt, which has been displayed at the State Capitol Museum in Olympia as well as in Spokane, will remain in the Packwood museum permanently as testimony to a friendship knitted together in a small rural community.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
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An American survey shows that people fear public speaking more than they worry about dying. According to Dale Carnegie literature, public speaking topped the list of the 14 worst human fears, followed by heights, insects and bugs, financial problems, deep water, sickness and death.
“That means if you’re the average person, if you have to be at a funeral, you would rather be in the casket than doing the eulogy,” Jerry Seinfeld said in 1998, in “I’m Telling You for the Last Time.”
I can believe it. Two years ago, I received a call from the powers-that-be in the Association of Personal Historians asking if I would organize its 2006 international conference in Portland. I hesitated—not because I worried about planning the conference, which I knew I could do, but because I trembled at the thought of speaking in front of hundreds of people.
After agreeing to organize the event, I attended the 2005 conference at Grand Rapids, Mich., where I was scheduled to briefly mention our plans. Terrified, I stood before 160-plus people and rapidly babbled about speakers, the city, and who knows what else. Afterward, our APH operations manager told me, “Julie, you’re supposed to take a breath at the periods.”
Back in the mid-1980s, as a Chronicle reporter, I had been invited to White Pass High School’s career day to talk about life in journalism. I prepared my remarks, which were supposed to last for a half-hour, and rushed through everything within 10 minutes. Feeling like a failure, I joined Toastmasters for a short time, which met at the Back Door Restaurant in Chehalis, I believe. But I never stuck with it. How I wish I had!
In the late 1980s, I remember sitting in a room with fellow reporters at the Daily News in Longview, where we were supposed to share some of our favorite writing. I started reading the lyrics to a powerful Irish song but my voice shook, my stomach churned, my heart beat quickly and my voice trailed off …
So, in February 2006, I persuaded my friend, Edna Fund, to accompany me to a gathering of the Chehalis-Centralia Toastmasters, which meets at noon Mondays in the Hanson Building at Centralia College. We both joined.
The first Toastmasters club met Oct. 22, 1924, in the YMCA at Santa Ana, Calif., with the aim of helping others to speak more effectively. Since then, Toastmasters International has helped nearly four million men and women learn and practice public speaking, and now has 211,000 members in 10,500 clubs in 90 countries, according to its press release.
A typical Toastmasters club meets weekly or biweekly to learn and practice public speaking skills. The Chehalis-Centralia Toastmasters Club No. 1290, which members like to refer to as The Mighty 1290, usually has 20-plus members who gather in a semi-circle with a lectern front and center where each week people give prepared speeches and others take on roles as toastmaster, joke teller, leader of the invocation and flag salute, timer, grammarian and general evaluator.
Crucial to the meetings are the evaluators—club members who volunteer to offer positive feedback and constructive criticism of the prepared speeches. From the evaluations, speakers learn what worked in their speeches and how they can improve their public speaking skills.
One of the Mighty 1290’s master evaluators is Harry Green, who won the club, area and division speech evaluation contests this spring and competed Saturday at the district level, where he performed well but didn't place among the top three contestants out of 60 clubs in Western Washington.
Newcomers also learn from the more seasoned public speakers in the club, such as Green, John Panesko, Bob Killillay, Cindie Jackson, Dave Clark, Roland Jones and Lois Lockhart, among others.
Joining a Toastmasters club is easy. It’s also affordable, with dues of less than $100 a year. The group offers a supportive environment to learn how to speak in public without fear and trembling, improving with each speech. Members also enhance their impromptu speaking skills by answering a question posed by that day’s topicmaster. Each member usually must answer the question in 45 seconds to one minute 15 seconds.
As 2006 progressed, I received a couple of invitations to speak before the Northwest Independent Editors Guild and the Chehalis Rotary. In the past, I would have answered such requests with an emphatic, “No.” But, because of Toastmasters training, I agreed to speak.
By the time October rolled around, I felt ready to speak at the international conference. I practiced the speech at Toastmasters the Monday before I had to give it before 260-plus people on Thursday.
I spoke slowly and enunciated clearly. I involved the audience. I still trembled a bit but few people noticed.
Afterward, in the hallway prior to our keynote speaker’s session, the former APH president—a woman from Houston who now lives in New York—stopped me. “Julie,” she said, “I just have to ask—Did you join Toastmasters?”
If Toastmasters helped me improve my public speaking skills, it can do wonders for anyone. Visit a meeting to see what it’s like, and then decide whether to join.
May 14 column
East county towns may be lost, but their history is never forgotten
Water skiers skimming over the glassy blue surface of Riffe Lake may never realize that beneath the deep waters once resided the citizens of Kosmos, Fulton, Nesika and Riffe.
An exhibit that opened Saturday and runs until October at the Lewis County Historical Museum focuses on stories from the east end of the county. Since the museum is in Chehalis, sometimes people in the outlying areas of the county may feel their history is ignored or forgotten. That’s one reason the museum is hosting the exhibit, called “If Towns and Dams Could Talk.”
It’s admirable to reach out to the smaller communities and display their histories in the museum, which bears the name “Lewis County” Historical Museum. History is worth preserving, whether it’s an individual’s, a community’s, a city’s or that of a metropolis. Is Seattle’s history more important to preserve than that of Centralia or Chehalis, just because more people live there? The display on the East End stories is likely to be followed by exhibits highlighting the southern part of the county, the western part and other small communities.
Put together by volunteer curator and museum board member Margie Koher-Lloyd, the exhibit features a display board noting the location of many small communities east of Cinebar and Salkum that were started by early settlers in the late 1800s.
Visitors to the museum will see the wood-framed front door of Joseph and Alice Chilcoat, the first family to settle in the Big Bottom. They’ll see old boxes that once held letters delivered to the Glenoma Post Office; a telephone switchboard discarded as trash by the Eatonville Telephone Co. and retrieved by Van McDaniel’s father, who refurbished it for use in the McDaniel Telephone Co.; and one of the first automatic answering machines—a laptop-sized thee-inch-high Code-A-Phone that debuted in 1957 and weighs nearly 50 pounds.
Artist Sylvia Livermore of Cinebar painted a beautiful winter mountain scene of White Pass as a backdrop for a mannequin on snowshoes with old-fashioned skis and antique sled beside him.
Center stage is an official soap box derby car driven by Harry Richard Hall of Morton in the 1957 Tacoma Soap Box Derby. The green car, which promotes the Morton Loggers Jubilee in red lettering highlighted with yellow shadows, weighed 249½ pounds with Harry at the wheel, while the limit for derby entries was 250 pounds. Behind the car sits the “Fast Time” trophy won by the 14-year-old boy.
Tacoma Power loaned the museum its six-by-six-foot octagon replica of the Mossyrock Dam, which was built in 1968 and backed up the Cowlitz River to create Riffe Lake above the former communities. The utility company purchased the land from property owners and Koher-Lloyd said most of the homes were moved, burned or destroyed. From a boat launch at Riffe Lake, she said, you can still see a cement slab or two and one of the streets of Kosmos (pronounced Koz-mus).
But the highlight for me sat behind glass, a beautiful pink friendship quilt painstakingly pieced together in 1930 by 20 members of the Ladies Aid of the Randle Methodist Church. In April 1930, the society decided to create the friendship quilt to raise money for needy children and families as well as the minister’s $10 monthly fee.
Each of the 20 blue, gray, orange and other colorful squares bears the embroidered name of the person who created it. Looking at the names, I could envision the women—and one man, Forest Service worker John Kirkpatrick—gathered together stitching the fabric and friendships as they worked. One of the women was Koher-Lloyd’s grandmother, Bertha Machill Koher, a German immigrant who married another German immigrant in North Dakota and settled in the Big Bottom Valley in 1890. Working beside her on the quilt were two daughters, Mae Koher Moore and Ella Koher Green, and a daughter-in-law, Ola Jordan Koher.
The ladies sold tickets for the raffle, raising two dollars, but then Max Ogen bought the hand-tied quilt outright for $25. It remained in his family for years, until his daughter, Dorothy Ogen Chubbuck, who lived in California at the time, gave it to a friend who might appreciate it—June Gerwig. After examining it, Gerwig recognized the names of Koher-Lloyd’s relatives, so she gave the quilt to her.
Now Koher-Lloyd, a native of Glenoma who graduated from the White Pass High School in 1964 but now lives in Chehalis, said she plans to donate the friendship quilt to the White Pass Country Historical Society’s museum when it opens, hopefully this summer in the old Packwood Grade School.
The beautiful old quilt, which has been displayed at the State Capitol Museum in Olympia as well as in Spokane, will remain in the Packwood museum permanently as testimony to a friendship knitted together in a small rural community.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
.
May 14, 2007
May 14 column
East county towns may be lost, but their history is never forgotten
Water skiers skimming over the glassy blue surface of Riffe Lake may never realize that beneath the deep waters once resided the citizens of Kosmos, Fulton, Nesika and Riffe.
An exhibit that opened Saturday and runs until October at the Lewis County Historical Museum focuses on stories from the east end of the county. Since the museum is in Chehalis, sometimes people in the outlying areas of the county may feel their history is ignored or forgotten. That’s one reason the museum is hosting the exhibit, called “If Towns and Dams Could Talk.”
It’s admirable to reach out to the smaller communities and display their histories in the museum, which bears the name “Lewis County” Historical Museum. History is worth preserving, whether it’s an individual’s, a community’s, a city’s or that of a metropolis. Is Seattle’s history more important to preserve than that of Centralia or Chehalis, just because more people live there? The display on the East End stories is likely to be followed by exhibits highlighting the southern part of the county, the western part and other small communities.
Put together by volunteer curator and museum board member Margie Koher-Lloyd, the exhibit features a display board noting the location of many small communities east of Cinebar and Salkum that were started by early settlers in the late 1800s.
Visitors to the museum will see the wood-framed front door of Joseph and Alice Chilcoat, the first family to settle in the Big Bottom. They’ll see old boxes that once held letters delivered to the Glenoma Post Office; a telephone switchboard discarded as trash by the Eatonville Telephone Co. and retrieved by Van McDaniel’s father, who refurbished it for use in the McDaniel Telephone Co.; and one of the first automatic answering machines—a laptop-sized thee-inch-high Code-A-Phone that debuted in 1957 and weighs nearly 50 pounds.
Artist Sylvia Livermore of Cinebar painted a beautiful winter mountain scene of White Pass as a backdrop for a mannequin on snowshoes with old-fashioned skis and antique sled beside him.
Center stage is an official soap box derby car driven by Harry Richard Hall of Morton in the 1957 Tacoma Soap Box Derby. The green car, which promotes the Morton Loggers Jubilee in red lettering highlighted with yellow shadows, weighed 249½ pounds with Harry at the wheel, while the limit for derby entries was 250 pounds. Behind the car sits the “Fast Time” trophy won by the 14-year-old boy.
Tacoma Power loaned the museum its six-by-six-foot octagon replica of the Mossyrock Dam, which was built in 1968 and backed up the Cowlitz River to create Riffe Lake above the former communities. The utility company purchased the land from property owners and Koher-Lloyd said most of the homes were moved, burned or destroyed. From a boat launch at Riffe Lake, she said, you can still see a cement slab or two and one of the streets of Kosmos (pronounced Koz-mus).
But the highlight for me sat behind glass, a beautiful pink friendship quilt painstakingly pieced together in 1930 by 20 members of the Ladies Aid of the Randle Methodist Church. In April 1930, the society decided to create the friendship quilt to raise money for needy children and families as well as the minister’s $10 monthly fee.
Each of the 20 blue, gray, orange and other colorful squares bears the embroidered name of the person who created it. Looking at the names, I could envision the women—and one man, Forest Service worker John Kirkpatrick—gathered together stitching the fabric and friendships as they worked. One of the women was Koher-Lloyd’s grandmother, Bertha Machill Koher, a German immigrant who married another German immigrant in North Dakota and settled in the Big Bottom Valley in 1890. Working beside her on the quilt were two daughters, Mae Koher Moore and Ella Koher Green, and a daughter-in-law, Ola Jordan Koher.
The ladies sold tickets for the raffle, raising two dollars, but then Max Ogen bought the hand-tied quilt outright for $25. It remained in his family for years, until his daughter, Dorothy Ogen Chubbuck, who lived in California at the time, gave it to a friend who might appreciate it—June Gerwig. After examining it, Gerwig recognized the names of Koher-Lloyd’s relatives, so she gave the quilt to her.
Now Koher-Lloyd, a native of Glenoma who graduated from the White Pass High School in 1964 but now lives in Chehalis, said she plans to donate the friendship quilt to the White Pass Country Historical Society’s museum when it opens, hopefully this summer in the old Packwood Grade School.
The beautiful old quilt, which has been displayed at the State Capitol Museum in Olympia as well as in Spokane, will remain in the Packwood museum permanently as testimony to a friendship knitted together in a small rural community.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
May 14 column
East county towns may be lost, but their history is never forgotten
Water skiers skimming over the glassy blue surface of Riffe Lake may never realize that beneath the deep waters once resided the citizens of Kosmos, Fulton, Nesika and Riffe.
An exhibit that opened Saturday and runs until October at the Lewis County Historical Museum focuses on stories from the east end of the county. Since the museum is in Chehalis, sometimes people in the outlying areas of the county may feel their history is ignored or forgotten. That’s one reason the museum is hosting the exhibit, called “If Towns and Dams Could Talk.”
It’s admirable to reach out to the smaller communities and display their histories in the museum, which bears the name “Lewis County” Historical Museum. History is worth preserving, whether it’s an individual’s, a community’s, a city’s or that of a metropolis. Is Seattle’s history more important to preserve than that of Centralia or Chehalis, just because more people live there? The display on the East End stories is likely to be followed by exhibits highlighting the southern part of the county, the western part and other small communities.
Put together by volunteer curator and museum board member Margie Koher-Lloyd, the exhibit features a display board noting the location of many small communities east of Cinebar and Salkum that were started by early settlers in the late 1800s.
Visitors to the museum will see the wood-framed front door of Joseph and Alice Chilcoat, the first family to settle in the Big Bottom. They’ll see old boxes that once held letters delivered to the Glenoma Post Office; a telephone switchboard discarded as trash by the Eatonville Telephone Co. and retrieved by Van McDaniel’s father, who refurbished it for use in the McDaniel Telephone Co.; and one of the first automatic answering machines—a laptop-sized thee-inch-high Code-A-Phone that debuted in 1957 and weighs nearly 50 pounds.
Artist Sylvia Livermore of Cinebar painted a beautiful winter mountain scene of White Pass as a backdrop for a mannequin on snowshoes with old-fashioned skis and antique sled beside him.
Center stage is an official soap box derby car driven by Harry Richard Hall of Morton in the 1957 Tacoma Soap Box Derby. The green car, which promotes the Morton Loggers Jubilee in red lettering highlighted with yellow shadows, weighed 249½ pounds with Harry at the wheel, while the limit for derby entries was 250 pounds. Behind the car sits the “Fast Time” trophy won by the 14-year-old boy.
Tacoma Power loaned the museum its six-by-six-foot octagon replica of the Mossyrock Dam, which was built in 1968 and backed up the Cowlitz River to create Riffe Lake above the former communities. The utility company purchased the land from property owners and Koher-Lloyd said most of the homes were moved, burned or destroyed. From a boat launch at Riffe Lake, she said, you can still see a cement slab or two and one of the streets of Kosmos (pronounced Koz-mus).
But the highlight for me sat behind glass, a beautiful pink friendship quilt painstakingly pieced together in 1930 by 20 members of the Ladies Aid of the Randle Methodist Church. In April 1930, the society decided to create the friendship quilt to raise money for needy children and families as well as the minister’s $10 monthly fee.
Each of the 20 blue, gray, orange and other colorful squares bears the embroidered name of the person who created it. Looking at the names, I could envision the women—and one man, Forest Service worker John Kirkpatrick—gathered together stitching the fabric and friendships as they worked. One of the women was Koher-Lloyd’s grandmother, Bertha Machill Koher, a German immigrant who married another German immigrant in North Dakota and settled in the Big Bottom Valley in 1890. Working beside her on the quilt were two daughters, Mae Koher Moore and Ella Koher Green, and a daughter-in-law, Ola Jordan Koher.
The ladies sold tickets for the raffle, raising two dollars, but then Max Ogen bought the hand-tied quilt outright for $25. It remained in his family for years, until his daughter, Dorothy Ogen Chubbuck, who lived in California at the time, gave it to a friend who might appreciate it—June Gerwig. After examining it, Gerwig recognized the names of Koher-Lloyd’s relatives, so she gave the quilt to her.
Now Koher-Lloyd, a native of Glenoma who graduated from the White Pass High School in 1964 but now lives in Chehalis, said she plans to donate the friendship quilt to the White Pass Country Historical Society’s museum when it opens, hopefully this summer in the old Packwood Grade School.
The beautiful old quilt, which has been displayed at the State Capitol Museum in Olympia as well as in Spokane, will remain in the Packwood museum permanently as testimony to a friendship knitted together in a small rural community.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
May 7, 2007
I toiled as a reporter for ten years. I worked as an editor for nine years. I’ve run my own personal history business for seven years. And, starting today, I’m trying my hand at writing a column.
Eons ago, I wrote a ski column for The Daily News in Longview during my young, single days when I could afford to ski. Now I’m an older mom with little excess money or energy beyond what I give to my two children—my 12-year-old son and almost 6-year-old daughter.
What I’d like to highlight in this column are the people, places, events and goings-on in Lewis County. I have a particular fondness for veterans: I see the Veterans Memorial Museum as a jewel in our midst. We have tiles on the Wall of Honor—for my mother’s uncle, who served in France during WWI, and for my mom’s brothers who served in WWII, one aboard a Navy ship in the South Pacific and the other flying P-51s over the hump of China. My father served in Korea. My husband served in Vietnam.
I am so grateful for the sacrifices brave men and women have made to secure the freedoms we enjoy. I’m not a warmonger, but I believe in defending the American way of life when it’s threatened. I’m a fan of the Veterans Memorial Museum’s motto—they shall not be forgotten.
Born in Iowa and raised in Colorado, I graduated from high school in Vancouver, Wash., and four years later left the University of Washington with a degree in communications and political science. I worked as a reporter for The Lewis River News and Kalama Bulletin (1983 to 1984), The Chronicle (from 1984 to 1987) and The Daily News, where I later accepted a position as assistant city editor (1987 to 2000).
During the early 1990s, while working as a journalist, I decided I wanted to preserve my parents’ stories for my children—if and when I ever had them. Using a huge camcorder on a tripod, I interviewed my father and then my mother about their lives. In 1993, my mother and I traveled through Europe; I later transcribed our trip journals, added photos and created a keepsake book for her 60th birthday. My mother-in-law, whom I never met, wrote in two spiral notebooks her recollections of leaving her home in England in 1920 for a new life in America. I turned her story into a book with photos. I interviewed my father-in-law, who was 99 and two months when he died, about his life and titled his book “Spanning a Century.”
My passion for preserving my own family’s stories led to creation of my business, Chapters of Life, where I help others do the same.
While working in the newsroom, I tried to maintain my objectivity. I never joined local organizations because I needed to cover them. I tended to keep my political opinions to myself. I endeavored to report both sides of every issue.
As a professional writer, I have won awards for what I’ve penned; other times, I wish I could have retracted words that made it into print. I believe in working hard and doing your best, but sometimes I fall short. I guess that makes me human.
Nowadays, I can join as many groups as I like. I’m a member of the Chehalis-Centralia Toastmasters, otherwise known as The Mighty 1290. I’m a Republican precinct committee officer. I’m newsletter editor for the Women’s Entrepreneur Organization in Vancouver. I participated in local efforts to honor the Rosie the Riveters and joined in the Ezra Meeker Pioneer Days. I love this community and the people who live here.
In writing this column, I need your help. What will I write about? I’d love to have your ideas or suggestions for future columns. Please email me at the address below.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
I toiled as a reporter for ten years. I worked as an editor for nine years. I’ve run my own personal history business for seven years. And, starting today, I’m trying my hand at writing a column.
Eons ago, I wrote a ski column for The Daily News in Longview during my young, single days when I could afford to ski. Now I’m an older mom with little excess money or energy beyond what I give to my two children—my 12-year-old son and almost 6-year-old daughter.
What I’d like to highlight in this column are the people, places, events and goings-on in Lewis County. I have a particular fondness for veterans: I see the Veterans Memorial Museum as a jewel in our midst. We have tiles on the Wall of Honor—for my mother’s uncle, who served in France during WWI, and for my mom’s brothers who served in WWII, one aboard a Navy ship in the South Pacific and the other flying P-51s over the hump of China. My father served in Korea. My husband served in Vietnam.
I am so grateful for the sacrifices brave men and women have made to secure the freedoms we enjoy. I’m not a warmonger, but I believe in defending the American way of life when it’s threatened. I’m a fan of the Veterans Memorial Museum’s motto—they shall not be forgotten.
Born in Iowa and raised in Colorado, I graduated from high school in Vancouver, Wash., and four years later left the University of Washington with a degree in communications and political science. I worked as a reporter for The Lewis River News and Kalama Bulletin (1983 to 1984), The Chronicle (from 1984 to 1987) and The Daily News, where I later accepted a position as assistant city editor (1987 to 2000).
During the early 1990s, while working as a journalist, I decided I wanted to preserve my parents’ stories for my children—if and when I ever had them. Using a huge camcorder on a tripod, I interviewed my father and then my mother about their lives. In 1993, my mother and I traveled through Europe; I later transcribed our trip journals, added photos and created a keepsake book for her 60th birthday. My mother-in-law, whom I never met, wrote in two spiral notebooks her recollections of leaving her home in England in 1920 for a new life in America. I turned her story into a book with photos. I interviewed my father-in-law, who was 99 and two months when he died, about his life and titled his book “Spanning a Century.”
My passion for preserving my own family’s stories led to creation of my business, Chapters of Life, where I help others do the same.
While working in the newsroom, I tried to maintain my objectivity. I never joined local organizations because I needed to cover them. I tended to keep my political opinions to myself. I endeavored to report both sides of every issue.
As a professional writer, I have won awards for what I’ve penned; other times, I wish I could have retracted words that made it into print. I believe in working hard and doing your best, but sometimes I fall short. I guess that makes me human.
Nowadays, I can join as many groups as I like. I’m a member of the Chehalis-Centralia Toastmasters, otherwise known as The Mighty 1290. I’m a Republican precinct committee officer. I’m newsletter editor for the Women’s Entrepreneur Organization in Vancouver. I participated in local efforts to honor the Rosie the Riveters and joined in the Ezra Meeker Pioneer Days. I love this community and the people who live here.
In writing this column, I need your help. What will I write about? I’d love to have your ideas or suggestions for future columns. Please email me at the address below.
Julie McDonald Zander is a personal historian and former journalist who lives in Toledo. She owns Chapters of Life, a company dedicated to preserving the past, one family’s story at a time. Her Web site is www.chaptersoflife.com She can be reached at memorybooks@chaptersoflife.com
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