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| Volume XLII, Number 4 & Volume XLIII 1 Winter 2006 & Spring 2007 |
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| The
Sou'wester |
| ISSN #0038-4984
Copyright, 2007, by the Pacific County Historical Society. No portion of this publication may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the Society's Editorial Board. The Sou'wester is a quarterly
publication of the Pacific County Historical Society and Museum.
The Pacific County Historical Society is a non-profit 501(C)(3) organization,
located in South Bend, Washington.
In addition to the Sou'wester, the Society publishes a quarterly newsletter for its members and operates the Pacific County Historical Society Museum in South Bend, Washington.
The history of Raymond is rich with great stories and we’ve only scratched the proverbial surface. Early Raymond was such an intriguing melting pot of immigrants and cultures that there is ample material for at least another Sou’wester, at the very least. We’re still behind with our publications in spite of producing three double (more like triple) publications in a row. There’s another in the works for fall featuring South County history and we’re working hard to catch up and stay on track with 16 to 24 page quarterly issues. We have received considerable feedback about the railroad issue. Your comments and, yes, corrections are appreciated and it’s rewarding to know that our work is read. My wife, Denise, has once again provided an invaluable service for us by relentlessly proofreading and cleaning things up and Doug and I are both grateful for her work. Steve Rogers, PCHS president
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A bird's eye view of Raymond. (PCHS photo) Larger Image |
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“By the time of his death, the former logger had become an almost legendary figure for anyone in the Pacific Northwest with an interest in writing, journalism, history, current affairs, or the area’s leading industry, forest products. His byline in magazines and newspapers, including the Oregonian for 36 years, was known to readers across the country. Author of three dozen books and one of the nation’s most popular historians and commentators, he taught at Harvard, lectured at Reed College, and was known as the “Lumberjack Boswell.” He was the nation’s leading spokesperson for what he called the “Far Corner” – Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. As one scholar recently wrote, “he single-handedly put the region on the literary map in the mid-20th century.”Here, from Holbrook’s book Far Corner: A Personal View of the Pacific Northwest, are his words about Raymond during the depression years ca. 1935. Where the railroad that came to tidewater was once a city of five thousand, all of it built either on pilings or on dredged-in land. Its business district contained several new concrete buildings, but also block on block structures straight out of Western or Yukon fiction; false-front establishments, many with fearsome architectural embellishments, called pool rooms, card rooms, tobacco stores, clothing stores, hotels, rooming houses, sports centers, restaurants, and what not. A big business on First Street was the retailing of moonshine and homemade beers and wines, all illegal in the days of Prohibition. The upstairs of many of these places were made into rooms for transients, and there was generally believed to be a chambermaid for every room. |
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The sidewalks and some of the streets were planks set on stringers supported by piling. At low tide they were about ten feet above water; andFrom Stewart Holbrook’s Far Corner. (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1952. pp. 13-14.) |
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The street has never been more than four and a half blocks in length, and in its heyday it could, at times, exude an urban, eclectic aura. In its heyday, it was a place with a rich ethnic mix of characters: Finns, Poles, Swedes, Swede Finns, Chinese, Lebanese, Lithuanians, Jews, Ossetians (a part of Russia), Latvians, Germans, Austrians, Norwegians, and more. It was a busy place, cosmopolitan in character, and in its earliest days the social and business center of Raymond. Imagine a weekday morning walk down woodplanked First Street in 1920. There would have been the aroma of fresh baked breads and pastries wafting from the Finn and Greek bakeries, and of the coffee from the Greek coffee house. Further along, an early bird restaurateur would be picking up special cuts at one of the meat markets. To be ready for the lunch crowd, the roasts would have to be in the ovens soon. The early morning street was a busy place, and in the background, the din of the nearby mill machinery accompanied the chatter of merchants opening their shops, and of Finnish or Lithuanian mill workers making their way from the rooming houses to their jobs at one of the several sawmills. |
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| Many mill workers would lunch
at one of the several cafes on the street, typically featuring their blue
plate specials. Today’s oldest citizens, who were youngsters in the
late 1920s and 1930s, might recall the hectic lunchtime at places like
the
Royal Grill, Eagle Café, Moose Café, or the Sunday dinners at the Lincoln Hotel. Forget the myth that First Street was nothing more than a skid row, as it was nothing of the sort in its early days. Granted, the block between Commercial and Alder Streets was the “bowery” part of town, but the remaining three blocks included the heart of the city. During the 1910s and 1920s First Street housed the city hall, two banks, law offices, groceries, meat markets, labor temples, women and men’s clothing shops, fraternal organizations, a mortuary, a variety of other family businesses, and close to a dozen cafes. For entertainment and relaxation, there was a movie theatre, a Finnish sauna, Russian bath house, a piano and sheet music shop, confectionary shops, ice cream parlors, and for a short time, a small gymnasium. There were several rooming houses and hotels. And yes, between Commercial and Alder streets, in small upstairs hotels and private rooms, sailors and loggers visited the “ladies of the night.” Willapa Bay was a favorite stop for seamen on the cargo ships making regular visits to the sawmills, and it was known that Raymond endured a worldwide reputation among the sailors of the international merchant fleet. |
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| Prior to the First World War
there were more retail businesses on First Street and its neighboring side
streets than in all of modern day Raymond. In those days there were
at least a dozen saloons, squeezed into the single city block, on the street’s
south end, between Commercial and Alder. As late as the 1930s, shopkeepers
on the north end (the other three blocks) would warn customers and families
to stay away from “that part of town.”
A series of anti-beer and liquor laws, dating from 1913, and lasting until 1933, began to affect the saloon owners and shopkeepers, especially the European-born. The prohibition era, combined with the movement of Raymond’s commercial district toward Third Street and beyond, led to significant changes in the 1930s and 1940s, which is more recognizable in the memories of today’s group of senior citizens. The days of Prohibition in Raymond, South Bend, and the Willapa Valley is a story unto itself but Raymond’s saloons managed to stay in business as pool halls and “social clubs.” Bootleggers and police were kept busy. At least one dairy farmer supplemented his income by delivering milk bottles painted white, filled with the product of a secret still. The youngsters who grew up between World War II and the Vietnam War recall a different First Street. By then it was a collection of beer parlors, card rooms, aging rooming houses, and a few fading grocery stores and cafes. Two or three houses of prostitution, historically tolerated by the city and police, continued to operate, but a corrosive political climate had turned against the “old days.” People growing up during those years have their own memories of the area, and some may have been told by parents to stay away from “that street.” Searching back before the ‘forties, to the period of time between 1903 and 1930, the amateur sleuth can discover a street that had been the city’s focal place of business and social life. Even in the years immediately following World War II, through the 1950s, First Street clung to its former character, its businesses and social gatherings still reflecting a vibrant role in the life of the city. The First Street of Raymond’s early years is a dimming memory; Ray Wheaton’s “Howling Wilderness” is gone. The few older buildings still standing are the lamentable relics of a more glorious, or possibly infamous, past. The Cedar Tavern finally closed just a few years ago, a crumbling reminder of what once was. And as for the glory years, an accurate communal memory threatens to fade and disappear, as the men and women who recall the area’s youthful exuberance grow old and pass on. |
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After prohibition was lifted in 1933, there was a big change, and beer parlors and bars were located in various parts of town. Here is an incomplete list of the saloons and bars between the years 1904 and 1920: |
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It was all about timber, and three years prior to the building of the Siler-Cram mill, the Willapa Harbor Pilot printed the following:
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