Emil and Rose Schmitt stand in the door of their boarding house. ~Courtesy of Ed and Rosemary Shattuck private collection.

Bill Greenwood's ark was moored with other houseboats in West Bay. While some enjoyed it, others didn't, and it was finally burned.

~Susan Parish Collection, www.shadow-catchers.com

"Smitty" Schmitt tells some of the history of Olympia. ~Deborah A. Morris photograph.

Our Memories; continued

Practically True Remberences

Practically True

Remembrances

Olympia-born Harold "Smitty" Schmitt, 91, still drives across town twice a day to discuss news and straighten out government affairs with other retired men at the Rib Eye restaurant.

We met up with Smitty and friends shown in the photograph, and what follows are recollections of the past.

Schmitt wrote the following account of a small package making a big point. He entitled it "Old Man Mottman Talking to the Drayman"

"Have you still got that big wagon and the team of horses and the hand truck?" asks George Mottman. "Come down to the store, I've got a package for you to deliver. I want you to hook up the horses and take the package up to a lady at the Maple Park Place. Go to the door and ask if this is where Mrs. (so & so) lives. When she says yes, tell her you have a package to deliver to her from old man Mottman. Then I want you to go back down to the wagon, take your boards out of the back of the wagon and make a ramp down to the ground. Then put this on the hand truck, go back down the ramp, and take it up the walk to her door and deliver it to her. I'm getting (blankety, blank) tired of that woman ordering a spool of thread and wantin' it delivered!"

Ed Shattuck remembers his first encounter with Mottman. "I needed a $32 pair of logger shoes and I only had $27 to my name. If I didn't have the shoes, I couldn't get the job. This was during the Depression and I needed that job. I explained my situation to the salesman and said I'd pay the balance after I got the job. He said I'd have to talk to Mr. Mottman.

"I retold my story to Mr. Mottman who looked me straight in the eyes. He said he believed me and made the arrangements with the clerk downstairs. Yes, sir, Old Man Mottman was a real gentleman. He extended credit to families in need and outfitted all the kids who needed shoes."

Captain Bill's Ark

Chuck Digman had a paper route for The Olympian and delivered Capt. Bill Greenwood's paper. Greenwood had built an ark and lived on it in West Bay waterfront, along with other houseboat dwellers.

"The City of Olympia, in an effort to clean up the waterfront, moved out the dwellers and along with them Capt. Bill and his ark. It wasn't really what you'd call seaworthy, so the City helped him out by torching the old landmark ark," Digman said.

"Bill had wonderful stuff there and us kids were privileged to be invited inside to look at the great reed organ, some Babylon posters, a long Japanese sword and other collections he'd gathered through the years. He was a gentleman, and the neighborhood kids loved him.

"The little bit of residue his living there produced was swept away with each outgoing tide. We never saw him after the fire. Some say he's living on a prairie around here and building another ark."

The Boarding House

Other recollections from Schmitt: "Saturday nights were the fun nights around the big boarding house. That was the time local musicians came to the 'big room,' which filled with city folk, mill workers and anyone who wanted to dance the night away. A big table of food was set and filled with homemade pies that were renowned around the area.

"We colored margarine by busting a powder capsule into a dish with white, lard-like margarine that we then warmed and mixed together to make it yellow. Cardboard was put in the bottom of shoes to cover holes, or sometimes a piece of inner tube cut to fit extended the life of a pair of shoes."

Schmitt worked for Buchanan Mill when he was a teenager, nailing metal bands around shingles.

"There were six mills on West Bay at one time that loaded barges with shingles. We were paid 40 to 45 cents an hour. Buchanan always paid top wages. At 16 I was put on a crane after only a few minutes of training."

Air Raids

Bert Horne remembers the war era:

"When the air raid siren blew, we all had to pull our heavy curtains closed over the windows to block out any light that may be seen by enemy aircraft. The siren was also the signal for the volunteer wardens to patrol the streets and make sure nobody forgot to close their curtains."

"Children at schools brought dimes once a week, to buy stamps to get wartime Savings Bonds."

Those were the days of rationed shoes, tires, vehicle gasoline, coffee, butter, meat, nylon stockings, whisky, cigarettes and many other things. Horne's father owned a 50-foot drag boat named the Marie H, which he used in his commercial fishing business. The boats had to display the name and call sign on top or risk being fired on by the military. Fishers were exempt from gasoline rationing because they were assisting the war effort.

"We were drag fishing for all kinds of fish. Anything that moved, we took," Horne said. "The government took all the fish to feed the armed forces. The troops had priority, and anyone serving them got what they needed. We didn't have to ration much because we had more fuel than we needed, so we'd trade our coupons for sugar, coffee, or whatever we needed. If a guy didn't drink, he'd trade his coupons with someone else. It was a great barter system where everyone helped each other out."

The Olympian Copyright 2000

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