Olympia High School friends. ~Courtesy of Naismith family.

From left, Marvin Holmes, Fran LaFond, an unidentified man, and owner Joe Rolman stand in the doorway of Joe's Shine Parlor, located where the Spar is now. ~Courtesy Marvin Holms private collection.

Laborers prepare Fourth Avenue for improvements under the watchful eye of an interested crowd in 1934. The street was being repaved after the streetcar was descommisioned. Orca Books now occupies the building behind the group. ~Washington State Historical Society.

Our Memories; continued

Fast Boys

Fast Boys

In a Feb. 5, 1870 newspaper report of foul play: "Several fast boys belonging to the district school amused themselves a few evenings ago in piling up the desks, seats, firewood and other moveable articles in the schoolroom, with the evident intention of surprising their teachers, as surprise parties are the rage just now. The tables were turned on the youngsters, however, when the Sheriff politely invited them to visit the office of Magistrate Lane and give an account of their pranks. The principal participators were fined each five dollars and costs, and the others let off with a less penalty, but sufficient it is believed, to deter them from a repetition of such lawless proceedings."

The Law

The late Le Roy Hoage was the son of Roy Hoage who was sheriff from about 1917 to 1935. Le Roy had plenty of stories to tell of early Olympia, and a friend passed along two of them.

Five-year-old Le Roy was left in the country treasurer's office while the sheriff did work elsewhere. Before leaving little Le Roy alone, however, the sheriff told him not to step on the button in the floor of the treasurer's office. The lack of explanation made Le Roy very curious and after awhile he could contain himself no longer -- he stepped on the button.

The movement was immediately followed by an alarm that brought a deputy and city police officers racing into the room with guns drawn. The terrified Le Roy promised to be more careful in the future.

Le Roy also recalled an incident that happened during his father's term as sheriff. He was riding with his father in the sheriff's car, a 1921 Studebaker, and just crossing over the tideflats (now a filled-in paved downtown area) when Sheriff Hoage decided to pull over a motorist. He turned on the red light and the motorist sped away, tossing bottles of moonshine out the window as he drove.

The cars sped though downtown Olympia to the Yelm Highway and past Lacey. The chase finally ended near The Evergreen Ballroom, when the sheriff began shooting at the moonshiner's car.

Le Roy said he could still recall the suspect's vehicle with its trunk, gas tank and wheels being full of bullet holes. No one was hurt.

Old News

In a newspaper clipping from the late 1800s, the editor tells this story: "One of the hobos who escaped from jail a few nights ago has written to Sheriff Prince, expressing his profound gratitude for courtesies shown him during his incarceration. He declares that the food was satisfactory and the attendance exceptionally careful, and that on these accounts and the high personal regard he had for all connected with the jail, he was sorry to take 'French Leave,' but there was one thing neither he nor his pals could stand, and that was the loud, persistent and stentorian snore of the night guard. That was more than human patience could endure, and they concluded to sever the ties that bound them."

Another newspaper clipping from the same era had several colorful paragraphs in the editor's column.

"In a few days more the Chief of Police will begin to lasso some of the many cur dogs that exist in this city. An ordinance to that effect being now in the course of preparation.

"Old Tom O'Garra lingered about the polls all day waiting for the appearance of the man who offered him six bits for his vote. Like the man who struck Billy Patterson, he failed to show up.

"The County Commissioners are about tired of paying the bills of a lot of paupers who live at the county jail. They intend hereafter to try working the bums on the streets so as to at least pay for their keeping.

"A lively scrapping match took place on the Long Dock today between Big Bill, who drives the wood wagon for Percival, and Ed Jones. They were sparring finely when Jones got a lick that knocked him clear across the dock. This angered him, and arising he went for his antagonist, teeth and toe-nails, and whaled him in good shape."

In the 40s

Marguerite Kueckelhan, now 103, moved to Olympia in 1946 with her husband, Lee. She remembers that the population was approximately 18,000.

"In those days the Olympia Brewery was very important in town; it was the biggest thing here. You had the feeling that it sort of held it together.

"Socially and commercially the Schmidts were big people in town," continued Kueckelhan. "Clara Schmidt was enthusiastic about music. She formed the guild and was always raising money to bring people here. Many people of note were in this organization and we met monthly in what's now called 'the mansion.' After performances she always had a big party, inviting the musicians and all of us."

Kueckelhan was part of the volunteer group that started the Olympia Little Theatre two years before World War II. With no permanent building, the actors would perform wherever they could get available space. Props and costumes were stored in homes or garages, then transported to the show setting. Members of the audience paid $1 apiece to sit on wooden benches and watch the show.

The group finally earned enough money for a down payment on a building that once housed a car repair shop, which Kueckelhan described as the dirtiest, greasiest place she'd seen. The price was right and the volunteer theater group went to work cleaning, repairing and painting the building. The Olympia Little Theatre still calls that building home.

In the 1950s, the superintendent of schools talked to the group about the need for children to have more exposure to the theater. Junior Programs was born from that conversation and the work of 10 women. Today there are 277 schools involved, with students from primary and middle schools attending live plays several times a year.

Betty Burkhard Shoblom remembers not being able to get silk hose in the 1940s because of wartime restrictions. The women were creative, however, and used leg paint to conceal their bare legs. Shoblom, who says she never weighed over 100 pounds, was the first female to play the big bass drum in the high school band.

The Olympian Copyright 2000

back to main 150th index