Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Brown Boyz Celebrates a year of success


by Liv Stecker

Brown Boyz feeding fire fighters during the busy fire season



After an eventful summer travelling to local events and catering private parties, Brown Boyz Ohana Eatery celebrated the one year anniversary at their location at 576 N Wynne in Colville on January 6th. In addition to a full schedule feeding fans outside of the building through the warmer months, Brown Boyz expanded their restaurant hours Monday through Friday, 11 AM to 7 PM.


taco Tuesday special!
Specializing in traditional Hawaiian fare, you can grab a plate of their famous Kalua pork, teriyaki beef, yakisoba noodles, delectable coconut chicken and many other mouth watering selections. On Tuesdays, Brown Boyz offers Taco Tuesday, featuring Kalua Smoked Pork over coconut coleslaw, topped with homemade pineapple salsa, avocado, cilantro, BBQ, sriracha. Served on flour or corn tortillas. Other weekly specials, along with the traditional favorites are available as well.


catering for all occasions!
Brown Boyz is available for catering all types of events, indoor or outdoor - weddings, birthdays, retirements… Last summer during the peak of the very busy fire season, the crew was on site at some of the local fire camps to feed hungry firefighters. The spacious restaurant is also available to reserve for private parties and events.


Kimo and Nikole Morrison, along with their dedicated team of friends and family, continue to give back the the community they love so much both with their business and in local school athletic programs.


Stop by Brown Boyz for lunch or dinner during the week, or call ahead for a take-out order, 509-684-2888.  For a taste of the Islands, you won’t be disappointed, in the food or the service. For more information check out their page of Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brownboyzislandbbq/?fref=ts.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Vote YES! For the kids


by Liv Stecker


The Northport School District Board of Directors is seeking voter approval for a continuing $300,000 Maintenance and Operations Levy to maintain ongoing operations for the school district at current levels. The levy rate will be around $1.87 per $1,000 of assessed property value. The levy, once approved, will be collected in 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2020. 

The levy funds will be used to pay for maintenance of the K-12 school buildings and grounds as well as operating costs for the facility that include lighting and heating. Part of the levy budget would include technology improvements, updating and repairing equipment and maintenance school wide. Levy funds would go to offset some of the cost of school athletic programs, to avoid some out of pocket expenses for students.  Music and fine arts programs are also supported by levy funds, keeping our kids in touch with their creative potential offers the lasting benefit of healthy outlets and habits. The levy would cover part of the expense of the swimming lessons provided for K-3rd grade in British Columbia, a program that is vital for the safety of the families living along the river and near many of the local lakes. Necessary equipment for physical education, as well as the expenses of field trips are also supported by levy funds. 

Photo credit: Samantha Cleaver

When and where to vote: 

All voting is done through the mail. Ballots began arriving in mailboxes around January 20th with an election date of February 9th, 2016, by which all ballots MUST be postmarked or dropped off at a location designated within the voting instructions included with your ballot. Drop off locations include the Stevens County Courthouse in Colville, Lake Spokane Elementary School in Nine Mile Falls, Fire District 1 Administration Building in Clayton and the United Church of Christ in Chewelah. 

Levy Equalization:

For every $1.00 we raise locally, the state provides matching funds of approximately $.68. These are levy equalization funds and are designed to help districts with a limited tax base. The state will not give these funds to the local district unless they run and pass a levy. 

Tax Exemptions:

Those who are at least 61 years old and whose household income is less than $35,000 may qualify for an exemption for all or part of this levy. Regardless of age, persons who have a disability which prevents them from employment may also qualify for this exemption. To apply, contact the Stevens County Assessor's Office.

Northport has the lowest levy rate among neighboring districts, Colville and Onion Creek school districts have a levy rate of $2.51, Chewelah: $2.28 and Kettle Falls: $2.26. The rate of $1.87 for Northport is well below average for the area. 

In 2015, Northport Schools received several prestigious academic awards, including     the School of Distinction award, the US News and World Report Silver Medal Award and the  Newsweek “America’s Top High School” Award. The mission statement for Northport school states: “The Northport School District is an innovative school that will inspire lifelong success, empowering students with knowledge, skills and opportunities.” 

A Story worth telling…




Meet Mary Gifford
by Liv Stecker

In late August, 1924, Mary Anderson was born in Craig, Colorado. The fourth out of ten children to Carl and Ione Anderson. She was one of only two girls and a whole herd of strapping boys who helped their father work the family farm. As a small girl, Mary remembers going to school in the wintertime in Colorado in temperatures as low as forty below zero. They would ride horses to school, but when it was the coldest, she tells stories of her older brother using extreme measures to keep the kids warm: “he pulled us off the horse and used the reins to keep us moving” she laughs, to avoid freezing from lack of movement.


 After years in this extreme environment, her father Carl longed for a more temperate climate for farming, “Dad wanted a place he could grow vegetable and fruit”, Mary recollects. Carl was an ingenuitive self-starter, once building a splint for a cow with a broken leg. He built a large camper on the back of a truck, and when her youngest brother was six months old, the family piled and headed west. It took seven days in 1935 to make the trek across four states to get to Washington, where her father had been born. Along the way, Mary remembers that they had several flats. At the time, the solid rubber tires cost $7 to replace. When they camped at night, the oldest boys would sleep outside under the truck while the girls and their parents were stacked inside with all of their belongings. 

After they arrived in Washington, they camped in what is now the Chewelah city park for a month while her parents looked for property to buy. “We went floating down that little creek for our baths,” Mary reminisces. The Depression had dropped real estate values significantly, and the Andersons bought some land with an old house in the town of Gifford, where the family moved in after an infestation of bed bugs was routed. Soon Mr. Anderson had a large farm flourishing, with cows and pigs and the fruit orchard he had been longing for in cold Colorado. 
Mary and her siblings attended the Maude School, a few miles up the road from Gifford, where students from the surrounding area gathered for education. When she reached high school age, she transferred to Hunter’s High School, where she graduated on May 24th, 1943. 

Shortly after her graduation, Mary followed a friend from school to Spokane, where she got a job at Geiger Airfield, building airplanes for the war effort. Mary’s girlfriend was married to a boy in the army, and as he shipped out for service in World War II, the girls were put to work welding and riveting war planes. Mary remembers working high on top of the wings of large planes, scaling ladders with her assigned tool box that she was responsible for. “Before then, I always wore a dress, but we had to wear coveralls. That was the first time I wore slacks.” She says. Mary and her girlfriend shared an apartment on third street in Spokane, taking a segregated bus to the airfield for work. The work force on base was segregated, as well as the military personnel, “the white boys would march by, and after them, the black soldiers.” 




The wartime world was a contrast even to the struggles of the depression. Ration books were issued to citizens in the United States, granting them allotments of grocery staples like flour and sugar. Even if you had the ration stamps to allow you to purchase groceries, you still had to be able to afford the food, and for some families, even the most basic supplies weren’t in the budget. Mary’s family would glean bulk flour and sugar from the grocers when bags were damaged in transit. She tells a story of cookies that were delivered to the local grocery store, and the broken packages were shared with her and her siblings. Most of the food they ate was what they grew as a family. Carl and Ione grew delicious apples, Mary remembers her youngest brother sharing apples, a bite at a time, with a pet pig on the farm. 



During her employment at Geiger Field, Mary went back to Gifford where she married Roland Gifford on May 5th, 1944, the grandson of the town’s founder. Roland had enlisted in the army but was discharged for medical reasons before he was deployed. He drove a grocery truck from Gifford to Spokane, hauling 8 gallon milk cans and other foods from the farms in all kinds of weather. 


Mary and Roland moved to Colville where they lived when their daughter Marlene was born. Mary worked at Pinewood Terrace for a brief time. Shortly after her birth they built a house in Gifford and moved back to the their hometown, where two years later, Mary succeeded her mother-in-law as the local post mistress for the town of Gifford. The Giffords ran the post office out of their small house where Mary also raised their two children, while Roland continued the grocery and mail delivery, before he began logging. 



In addition to her own children, Mary took in her husband’s youngest brother for many years, raising him as her own. She was well equipped for her job as a mother, since most of her younger brothers considered her their “second mother.” Their home was not only the local post office, it also served as a grocery store and service station for a time, and Mary managed the whole thing, with children in tow. When her son Ron was little, he once went missing. Mary and her daughter searched for him and finally found him asleep on a pile of mail sacks under the counter of the post office. 
The Gifford’s house and post office was located on a busy intersection in Gifford, where Mary witnessed 22 accidents in the 60 years she lived there. She would frequently be the first one to the scene of the wreck, helping injured passengers. Often, drivers would cut the corner across her yard, leaving her to run a string along the far side of her lawn that her children and grandchildren were strictly forbidden to cross. One young grandson crossed the taboo line and Mary says that she “warmed his seat up” quite a bit. The trespass was never repeated. 

Mary also served as the first official bus driver for the Maude school. When her son was a youngster, she remembers slip-sliding backwards down a hill in the auto. Her son was making loud proclamations from the backseat, so Mary made him get out and wait by the side of the road for her to go up the hill and collect the students at the top. 



Mary served as postmaster in Gifford until her retirement in 1986. She was also a member of the Stranger Creek Grange and the Daisy-Gifford Homemakers Club for over 60 years. Active in the Church of God, Mary never missed a step in maximizing her role as a mother, a postmaster, a wife and a neighbor. She lost her husband Roland in 1997 after 53 years of marriage, but she remained in Gifford until 2010, when she moved to Colville to be closer to her children and grandchildren. Still a pert and sassy 91 year old, she uses her scooter to get around and walks her dog Dukey almost every day. 



A laid back and humble lady, Mary was insistent that her story wasn’t that interesting. In spite of her cross country move with a large family in the midst of the depression, her stint as a real-life Rosie The Riveter during the Great War, and six decades of community service, raising three generations of children, Mary was still unconvinced that there would be an audience for her experiences, but she dutifully saved photographs and souvenirs, documenting family history and events over the course of almost a hundred years. But Mary doesn’t know that she is a hero hailing from the Greatest Generation, characterized by service and sacrifice and the selfless mission of community building. For nearly a century, Mary has quietly been laying down the stepping stones of history, from Colorado to the little town of Gifford, and now in Colville, where she is a delight to everyone who knows her, and her life is definitely a story worth telling. 

Painting the winding path

Photo credit: Stephen Stinson for the publication "Artists Among Us" 

by Liv Stecker 

The pathway through life that makes us who we are has an influence on everything we do, and nowhere is this more visible than the in the work of an artist. For Linda Hyatt Cancel, all of the twists and turns along the way have brought her full circle in both her life and her work, as she finds herself back in her childhood home, painting the world she grew up in. 

When Linda was a small child, her father graduated from the University of Idaho with a teaching degree and took the first job he was offered - in tiny little Northport, Washington. Linda spent her earliest years as a mini-mascot for the school, cheering at all of the sporting events before she was old enough to attend school. Eventually her father was offered a job in Kettle Falls and then in Colville, where he eventually retired. Her parents built a home nestled in the hills between Colville and Kettle Falls, using building materials salvaged from historic buildings from the old Kettle Falls. Linda has fond memories of growing up in the area, in spite of hardships her family faced. When Linda was 7 she had her first job at Meyers Falls Cemetery, picking up dead flowers from the graves for a penny a canful. 
"Dark and Stormy November" 

At 12 years old, Linda’s mother arranged for an artist of local renown, William Pogue, to give her daughter painting lessons. Pogue had established himself as an accomplished artist in the Spokane area before retiring in Kettle Falls. For six years, Linda developed her passion for fine art, learning the effects of light, color and shape in oil painting. 

Immediately after graduation, Linda headed to Spokane, where she enrolled in community college and got a two year degree in Visual Merchandising and Display Design, extending her professional knowledge of developing creations pleasing to the eye. After college, Linda began to work in retail merchandising displays, managing contracts for large department stores in the Spokane area until she moved to the east coast with her husband at the time. 

Raising four children in New Jersey, Linda set aside her love of painting for a time to focus on life with a family, but after a move to South Carolina, she decided it was time to pick up the brushes again. She started painting a body of work and submitting her pieces to local competitions and galleries. Immediately, she began to win awards. The Carolina Gallery in Spartanburg picked her up as an artist in residence, and she was awarded the contract to provide artwork for the local hospital system. 
"Where the 14' alligator lives... But he won't hurt you"

For Linda, she says her artwork is a diary of where she has been in life. “The Pacific Northwest, and especially Stevens County scenes are not as literal as they appear - there is always a story.” She says with a mysterious smile. The Silverado Express became aware of Linda’s work when the paper inadvertently printed one of her paintings as an uncredited photograph in a story in August of 2015. The startlingly realistic depiction of the projection building at AutoView Drive In Theater hearkens to Linda’s days as a young child in Stevens County. Her family was struggling through the illness of her sister, who eventually lost her battle with a rare form of brain cancer. Linda says the fondest memories of those times were car rides along the highway near the Drive In, sharing a Twin Pop popsicle with her sister, and wondering what it was like to see a movie at the theater. The title of the painting, “I Just Wanted To See The Show”, tells the story of the young child on the outside looking in, perhaps climbing the tree to peer over the building, hoping to catch a glimpse of the film that her family couldn’t afford. 
"I just wanted to see the show" in the artist's home



All of Linda’s works reflect her fascination with life, and her experiences along the way. “The pieces that I love the most have not sold,” she muses, “probably because they are so personal.” The struggles in her life are gifts for Linda to draw inspiration of. Loss and new beginnings are common themes in her depictions of landscapes in twilight, an occurrence that she notes happens both in the morning and the evening. Another repeating image for Linda is a bird’s nest, some with small eggs nestled safely within, representing her role as a mother and her understanding of nurture and protection in nature. 

"Play Freebird"

Linda has also painted a series of images of Santa Claus - after her work in South Carolina brought her into contact with a real life version of the Jolly Old Elf - Clifford Snider who ran a printing shop nearby. Cliff became Linda’s inspiration for line of paintings that capture his true-to-life work as Santa Claus for a multitude of non-profit and charity organizations. Beyond the literal joy of bringing Santa to life, her paintings are a representation of child-like faith and hope. 

Cliff Snider with the artist and one of her renderings of Santa Claus


In 2014, Linda returned home to the Colville area after her father passed away, to find her mother unexpectedly ill. She rearranged her plans and moved home to care for her mother for the next ten months, giving her a chance to reconnect with her roots and reevaluate her situation. “Life takes you in a direction,” she says, and you have to have an open heart.” Being home felt so right to Linda, that after her mother passed away, she packed up her studio in South Carolina and moved it back to the Northwest, into her childhood home, where she has converted several rooms into a working studio. “I have established myself well enough that I can work anywhere, but I never expected to come back here, to my house. But I am so happy to be back!” she says exuberantly. She serves on the association board for the Meyers Falls Cemetery where she began earning money as a small child. Continuing her work with the galleries down south, she has begun to build a network with artists and galleries in the Pacific Northwest as well. “I still can’t wrap my head around it, how everything fell into place.” she says. 

The artist's in home studio


Linda’s professional accomplishments offer a long list of prestigious awards, displays and gallery exhibitions. Her work, as well as links to the galleries where she is featured, can be found on her website, lindahyattcancel.com. In 2016, Linda is looking forward to becoming established as the Lake Roosevelt National Recreation Area Artist In Residence, a program developed by the National Park Service as a way to create a connection between local artists, the nature they depict and the community they live in. For Linda, since her beginning as a 12 year old taking lessons in the Barney’s Junction area, the old Kettle Falls has special meaning to her. “I love this place. I live it. I breathe it.” These are the landscapes that Linda is focusing on in her work right now, the beaches and mountains along the stretches of Lake Roosevelt. After a collection of her works are displayed at the National Recreation Area headquarters, one piece will be part of the permanent collection. Additionally, Linda’s work will be featured in a display at the Northwest Museum of Arts and Culture in Spokane this September through January. 
Linda at home with her artwork

From her humble beginnings in North Stevens County, to the wide range of life experience in the north east and south of the United States, Linda’s life continues to tell a story on canvas in color and light that communicates some things that words cannot. As a mother, a daughter, an artist and a person, Linda shares her gift of imagination and translation through oil and pigments, painting for us the full pathway of life: the highs and lows, joys and sorrows, beginnings and ends.

Be Mine


Why we celebrate St. Valentine’s Day
By Liv Stecker 

Before you write off Valentine’s Day as another invention of American corporations in the quest for perpetual revenue from mass produced greeting cards and several thousand tons of seasonal candy, take a moment to consider the long, if not convoluted, history behind the holiday. Long before it was chocolates and diamonds and fancy dinner dates, Saint Valentine’s Day became a celebration of enduring love. 

Valentine of Rome was a Christian saint in the 5th century who was martyred in 496 AD for his faith. He was buried on February 14th, and the anniversary of his death was observed by the Catholic Church after he was canonized. According to legend, Saint Valentine wore an amethyst ring embedded with the image of cupid. He officiated at the illegal Christian weddings of Roman Soldiers, who were forbidden to marry, as the Emperor Claudius II believed that married men did not make for good soldier material. It was said soldiers would recognize him by his cupid ring and request the performance of his secret nuptials. The amethyst later became the birthstone for the month of February, and is said to bring love. St. Valentine is said to have cut hearts out of parchment and given them to the soldiers that he ministered to, beginning the tradition of heart shaped cards. 

Eventually Valentine was imprisoned for his Christian ministry, and while in jail, he is said to have healed his jailer’s daughter, Julia, from blindness. A letter sent from his jail cell to the girl was signed “from your Valentine”, perhaps the first Valentine ever sent. After his death, Julia planted an almond tree with pink blossoms near his grave. The almond tree is still symbolic of undying love and friendship. 

The Catholic Church removed St. Valentine’s day from the General Roman Calendar in 1969, but the holiday was well rooted in tradition across the globe by that time. Speculation has tied the holiday to the ancient Roman feast of Lupercalia, a three day celebration of fertility in mid February, but there has been no traceable connection to this observance and the later resurgence of the romantic theme appointed to February 14th by poets and lovers who were far removed from Rome’s pagan roots. 

The first romantic association with the church holiday of St. Valentine’s Day wasn’t until nearly a thousand years later, when Geoffrey Chaucer, the English poet, penned the verse: For this was on seynt Volantynys day, Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make. ["For this was on St. Valentine's Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate."] Later, scholars would argue that the Valentine he referred to was not Valentine of Rome, but the feast of St. Valentine of Genoa, who died nearly 100 years before Valentine of Rome, which was observed in early May, a time more likely for the mating of birds in Britain. 

Whatever the reference really meant, Valentine’s Day was securely established as a celebration of love on February 14th by the beginning of the 15th century. Following Chaucer’s lead, French and English poets latched on to the theme and over the next 200 years, references to Valentine’s day, featuring birds and romantic love surfaced across Europe. The oldest surviving Valentine came from Charles, Duke of Orleans, referring to his wife as his  “very sweet Valentine” while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London in the 1400s: Je suis desja d'amour tanné, Ma tres doulce Valentinée… Even Shakespeare gave a nod to the holiday in Hamlet in the early 1600s. 

Mass productions of romantic poetry, cards and love notes was well underway in England by the end of the 18th century, and in 1847, the first commercially produced Valentines were available in the United States. It wasn’t until the late 1900s that the traditional note giving escalated to chocolates and jewelry. This became a trend in the United States when the candy and diamond industries saw potential for growth. It is estimated that over 190 million Valentines were sent in the United States in 2015, not including homemade exchanges between school age children. The average amount spent on a Valentine’s day gift in the US last year was $131. 

However you choose to observe (or not) the festival of love that is Valentine’s Day, the story of St. Valentine, perhaps embellished over the years, is a good excuse to let the ones we love know that we are thinking of them. It’s also a good chance to break out the scissors and glue stick and show our love with a little bit of creativity and personal attention. Maybe we don’t need diamonds and puppies to tell our Valentine’s how much they mean to us, but since the middle ages, we’ve been using poetry to get our point across. The cliche “Roses are Red” rhyme began in 1590, with Edmund Spenser's epic poem The Faerie Queene, but was adapted into a nursery rhyme in 1784 from Gammar Gurton’s Garland: 

The rose is red, the violet's blue,
The honey's sweet, and so are you.
Thou are my love and I am thine;
I drew thee to my Valentine:
The lot was cast and then I drew,
And Fortune said it shou'd be you.







The Impossible Dream


71 years of marriage and adventure
by Liv Stecker 

When Frank Johnson, Jr. got a flat tire in front of the little house in Renton, Washington, he had no idea about the lifelong adventure that was about to begin. He and his buddy, Jimmy Wendell, a “lady killer” by Frank’s standards, were more than a little delighted to be stranded near a house full of pretty high school girls, as he recalls, but one in particular caught his eye when he asked to use their phone. Kathleen Kells was fresh out of high school, and the way she tells the story it was love at first sight. Franks and “Teenie” (Kathleen) were an item right off. “Jimmy Wendell showed up with Frank at our house, and after that, we were dating!” She laughs, as if it were the most natural thing ever. 


Kathleen was one of six children born to the only doctor in Kirkland at the time, who was killed in a car accident before she turned 3. The large family went from the comfortable lifestyle to borderline poverty almost overnight. “When I look back over it, I wouldn’t change a thing, which is amazing to me.” Teenie muses. Though they were poor, she said her family was happy and loved each other, and they didn’t seem to notice what they had to do without. Her upbringing prepared her for the series of adventures that she would follow Frank through. 


The attack at Pearl Harbor happened that year, and  Frank enlisted in the US Navy as World War II began to escalate. Teenie joined the war effort at Boeing and went to work as a real life Rosie the Riveter, building airplanes in a largely female workforce. “I thought it was a fun thing to do, because most of the men were gone, so it was a lot of women.” She reminisces. For three and a half years, Frank was deployed as a sonar technician on the USS Halford, DD-480, a destroyer that was launched in 1942 and spent a large part of war time in the Pacific Theater. 



On Valentine’s Day, 1945, the Halford was patrolling Saipan Harbor in a smoke screen laid down for protection from a kamikaze attack,“There were airplanes coming from all directions,” Frank recalls, and in the confusion the Halford lost contact with a freighter and accidentally rammed the large ship, collapsing the bow of the destroyer like an accordion. The Halford was dry docked nearby for emergency repairs to the bow, and then sent back to the naval base at Vallejo, in California. Frank made the most of his shore leave at the end of March, 1945, by making his way up to Seattle to find Teenie and marry her. 

The couple was married at a church in the University District in Seattle where Kathleen was living at the time, and then went to Vancouver, BC for a brief honeymoon. “I had made about six thousand dollars playing poker on board the ship,” Frank tells the story of their return to California, “That was a lot of money back then.” He took Teenie, her three sisters and an aunt to the San Francisco area where they stayed for six weeks in quonset hut housing while they waited for his ship repairs to finish. Nearly every night, the group went to San Francisco where they danced and went to clubs and enjoyed the nightlife of the big city. Both Frank and Teenie smile at the memory of what they call their “real honeymoon”, with a bevy of female family members in tow. In May of that year, the Halford set out to sea again with Frank on board, and Teenie went back to Boeing, where she worked until December, when their first daughter was born. 



Frank completed his naval service at the end of 1945 and went to work in Seattle for the 13th Naval District doing clerical work. Before long, he grew restless in his job, and took a new position with the Seattle Police Department in the booking office. A curious fellow, always looking for adventure, Frank liked this job a little better than the Naval District: “I met all the interesting people who decided to make problems for society.” He chuckles. The Johnsons bought a little white house in the Fremont district, but Frank was working nights for the Police Department, and Teenie didn’t like having him gone all night. He left that job and went to work for Texaco, where he remained for 15 years, during which time they had two more children. 

Their youngest son, Justin, was born 11 years after the second - a surprise that Teenie says was the highlight of her life. “I thought we were all done! But he was a special gift that came along.” She calls the unexpected baby her favorite gift from God. When Justin was very young, Frank and Teenie realized that the potential for moving up with Texaco was limited, so they sold everything they owned in the Seattle area and bought a hunting guide company that provided horse packing for trips into the mountains west of Yakima. “We inherited a truck, put everything into it and headed to the mountains.” Frank says.They moved into a primitive house in the woods and left the city to pursue one of Frank’s passions. 



Every spare minute, Frank had spent hunting or fishing, often with the kids in tow, and taking on the outfitting company was a chance to do what he loved for a living. The hosted eight day pack trips along the Wonderland Trail at Mt. Rainier, one of which Teenie joined him for. “I had never even been on a horse!” she says, “I got to go on the trip and some of those women were so good - they helped me learn how to start a fire and cook food!” She got a taste of the rugged life that her husband and children loved. The Johnsons built a new house and shortly afterward, the makeshift cabin they had been living in burnt to the ground. 



The company offered different types of guiding and packing for outdoor sportsmen, and during one trip, Frank had to take over guiding a mountaineering group on Mt. Adams without time to take the large multi-purpose truck and horse trailer back to the ranch. Teenie was stuck driving the cumbersome outfit down the winding switchbacks of Mt. Adams with a 2 speed rear end and complicated gear shifting system in the truck that the family had inherited. “She was a good sport,” Frank laughs, “to go along with it.” Teenie says there was no choice, and even though she had no experience operating the truck or negotiating the trailer around the hairpin turns, it had to be done. 


The Johnsons operated the packing company,  Indian Creek Corral, for 8 years, while Frank worked at White Pass ski resort as a lift operator in the winter season. One night coming down the ski hill, Frank said he was in too much of a hurry and broke both of the bones in his lower leg, ending his career in the packing business after several months in a cast. When he tried to return to the trail with his horses in a walking cast, he injured his knee severely clearing brush for a pack train. He was helicoptered out of the wilderness and his teenage daughter and son had to guide the train of pack “dudes” back out. Frank says the injury ultimately made a court reporter out of him, as he and Teenie realized that it was time for a career change. 

They moved to California, and after a brief try working at a thoroughbred horse ranch, Kathleen saw an ad in the newspaper for court reporter training. Frank enrolled for a year of training in Los Angeles and went straight to work in that area as a reporter until he found an open position in John Day, Oregon, working with a Judge who served six counties. For eight years he worked in rural eastern Oregon, traveling with the judge to small towns around the country. In the meantime, Frank invested in a Mooney Mark 21 airplane and learned how to fly it. 

As their youngest son Justin became involved in high school sports, Frank realized he was gone so much that he was missing most of his kids major milestones while he traveled around the state. He took a new job in the Miami area, but they weren’t in Florida long before the whole family missed the western states, so they moved back, first to Boise, then back to John Day, the Monterey area of California, and eventually, back to Seattle. “I love Seattle the most, it was always home to me.” Says Teenie, who was happy to back in her childhood home. Frank acquired a sailboat during their time in Seattle, and learned to sail. Frank laughs about how good natured Kathleen was about his many hobbies and career changes. “She went along with everything!” and Kathleen says she wouldn’t change a thing. “I have never not wanted to do what he wanted to do - it just felt natural.” 

Frank retired in 1986 and for twenty years, the couple spent every winter together in Mexico, loading a boat on top of a truck canopy and pulling a 31 foot trailer down to the beaches of Mexico. For the first ten years they stayed near Guadalajara, and then they began spending winters on the Barra De Navidad, where Frank could deep sea fish to his heart’s content. 

In 2000, the couple moved to Kettle Falls to be near their youngest son and grandchildren. Still riding horses until last year when he suffered a fall that set him back, Frank and Teenie have remained as active as life would allow. Teenie often asks her son Justin, a talented musician, to perform her favorite song for her at his shows. “The Impossible Dream”, from the play Man of La Mancha, is a fitting theme for a couple who have spent more than 70 years chasing down their dreams together. Frank and Teenie will celebrate their 71st wedding anniversary in March - a landmark that seems as much like the impossible dream as anything these days. Through war times and peace, rich and poor, highs and lows, Frank and Teenie tell the story of more than seven decades of commitment, devotion and adventure together. 

“Enjoy the moments”


Honoring the memory of the boy next door
by Liv Stecker

Nate Moats was an all-around good guy. The only brother in a family with three sisters, his effervescent charm made him an effortless ladies man and the guy everybody loved. Throughout school Nate had one goal - to get on his own and start building a life. A single dad for most of his adult life, Nate was a hard worker who believed in making life exactly what you wanted it to be. “He was all about working, and making life better.” His sister Debbie says fondly. He moved to Colville when his daughter was young to manage the local branch of Sears, and made friends instantly wherever he went. He was loved by his employees, his sisters and his neighbors. Being a father was his number one joy in life, and after moving around from California to Montana and Idaho, he and his daughter Kassy found a community they loved in Eastern Washington. 

Around Christmas time in 2012, Nate knew that something was wrong. He confided in his sister Debbie that he thought maybe he had throat cancer and had made an appointment with a doctor to find out why he was having issues swallowing and speaking. His diagnosis came in early 2013 like a shockwave to him and his family: Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or ALS. 

ALS was formerly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, after the strong, young baseball great lost his life to the debilitating illness in 1941 at the age of 37. ALS is the degeneration of motor neurons that control communication between the spinal cord and the muscles of the body, leading to eventual loss of all muscle control. There are two types of ALS: sporadic and familial, with sporadic accounting for more than 90% of cases in the US. The disease usually affects approximately 20,000 people in the United States between the ages of 40-70, and it is always fatal. 

Nate and his family were devastated with the news. In Nate’s case, the aggressive form of ALS that begins in the throat had about a two year survival time, but since they were unsure of the duration before his diagnosis, it was hard for doctors to estimate the time that Nate would have left. Immediately his family rallied around him, his sisters formulating a plan for the around-the-clock care that he would need at some point in the near future. 

As ALS progresses, the victim of the disease begins to lose motor control and is unable to perform simple tasks in day-to-day life. Eventually the ability to walk goes away, and ultimately the involuntary movements of breathing and circulation become impaired. For Nate, the change happened over the course of a year. ALS has often been referred to as the worst possible way to die, since the victim remains mentally cognizant through the entire process, experiencing a complete loss of bodily control. From a strapping young man, only 43 years old, he gradually began to need his family to help him with the most basic functions. His family witnesses the slow decline of the strong, vibrant Nate that they had always known. 


While Nate’s family rallied around him and tried to cope with the bitter diagnosis, a woman named Cathey Priddy reached out to Nate’s sister Debbie. Cathey represented the ALS Support Organization, or ALSSO, out of Spokane. Still somewhat in shock and reeling with the sudden changes to all of their lives, Debbie was hesitant to open up to outside sources with such an intimate family problem. But Cathey was persistent, and finally Debbie listened to what she had to say. ALSSO was formed by family members who have lost their loved ones to ALS and found a shortage of local, accessible resources to help during the terrible journey. Cathey and others at ALSSO were able to let Debbie know that they understood what her family was going through, and there was help. 

As Nate began to experience the effects of the condition, he realized that he would soon have to give up his favorite pastime of driving, and the sports car that he dearly loved, hearkening to his days as a kid in California with the top down. As a last ditch run, he took his BMW out to a straight stretch of highway in North Idaho and let the horses run… right past a parked law enforcement officer. Nate waved cheerfully as he blew by the cop, beckoning him to follow. The officer did, and when he pulled Nate over a little way down the road, Nate explained that it was his last hurrah, and he would be surrendering his license. As it happened, the deputy had recently lost a fellow officer to ALS and was compassionate to Nate’s plight, posing for a picture with the lighthearted speedster. 



Debbie says that if Nate had a weak area before his illness, it was his hard-nosed lack of compassion. He believed in people fixing their own problems and not being a victim. After his diagnosis, Debbie says he had a new softness. He would find people with ALS anywhere he went, he had a radar for it, and he would share with them. He went out of his way to encourage people that seemed a little down, making a point of seeking out strangers in coffee shops to offer some upbeat encouragement to. When Nate was diagnosed with ALS, Debbie says he and his whole family “began everyday to see things differently, every little thing mattered.” She took him on the weekends to get coffee and a pedicure, one of his favorite things to do. “In everything he went through,” Debbie says, “he was happy.” 



Debbie and her sisters moved Nate to Hayden, Idaho into a recently vacated rental home of one of the girls. The house that Nate moved into was not equipped for a wheelchair, which would soon be necessary. At the time of his diagnosis, Nate was working for Ferguson Appliance in the Spokane Valley. He had been an active volunteer with the KXLY Extreme Team in the past, joining with his friend Mark Peterson to perform surprise renovations for deserving families in the area. When his friends and co-workers heard that Nate was in need, they sprang into action, and in one weekend, the Extreme Team retrofitted his rooms to meet all of the needs he would be facing in the near future, and added on an entire handicapped accessible bathroom. With the help of ALSSO, Nate’s family was able to also get equipment and nursing help as they needed it, all the way until the end.


Through the ALSSO, Nate met Nick, a 29 year old with a young wife named Stephanie and little boy. Nick had ALS and had reached out to ALSSO for help as well. The two formed a fast friendship and became inseparable. ALSSO hosted picnics and get togethers for victims of ALS in the community and their families, creating a network of support and communication between people who were on both sides of the brutal pathway of ALS. “No matter what we needed, they were there.” Debbie says of the people who make up ALSSO. As heartbreaking as the process of losing a loved one to ALS, it is also catastrophically expensive. “The cost is ridiculous. So ridiculous.” Says Debbie. With every piece of equipment and every procedure, the bills grew exponentially over the course of a year. ALSSO helps with that by providing equipment on loan and covering the cost of some in home care. 

Caring for Nate and coping with the aftermath of ALS was all consuming for Debbie and her family. “It became our whole life.” She says, and the friends they made through ALSSO became the lifeline to sanity in the storm. Nate lost his fight with ALS in November of 2014, leaving behind a teenage daughter and a devastated family. In his memory, Debbie has poured herself into ALSSO and supporting the organization that she says saved her life when her brother lost his. 

ALSSO sponsored the first annual Monte Carlo Night at Ferguson Plumbing to raise money for a wheelchair accessible van for Nate during his illness. Ferguson and many other local businesses gathered donations for prizes at the casino night. The first Monte Carlo night raised over five thousand dollars. The following year, Country Chevrolet got on board as a sponsor and the event raised over ten thousand, and this year, on Friday, March 11th, the goal for the third annual fundraiser is to raise $20,000 to go to ALSSO. The advantage of contributing to a local organization like ALSSO, as opposed to the ALS Foundation, or other national groups, is that every cent goes back into the community, rather than to national operating costs. ALSSO is a grassroots organization, founded and based in the Spokane area, providing real, tangible help to victims of the disease and their families. 

For more infomation about ALSSO, you can visit their website: ALLSO.ORG or email them info@alsso.org . Debbie will join ALSSO in hosting the third annual Monte Carlo Night at Ferguson Bath, Kitchen and Lighting Gallery, 2304 N. Dollar Road in the Spokane Valley on Friday, March 11th, from 5:30-10PM. Tickets are $50 per person, and include food, casino night fun and drinks for the night. On March 7th, Mark Peterson will be hosting a special edition of “Mondays with Mark” on KXLY with Debbie Therrian and Cory Fitzgerald of Colville's Country Chevrolet, featuring information about ALSSO and the Monte Carlo Night. This edition of “Mondays with Mark” is sponsored Country Chevrolet in Colville, and will be on KXLY from 5:30-9 AM. For more information about the event there is a Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/events/1555668964725235/ or contact Debbie Therrian at Country Chevrolet 509.684.8400 extension 707. 

Give It A Century


by Liv Stecker

As we leave 2015 behind us, with all of its triumphs and pitfalls, it’s easy to forget how far we’ve come in the last hundred years. As the United States tottered on the brink of entering World War I, President Woodrow Wilson spoke to his constituents in the State of The Union Address on December 7th, 2015. 
"The moral is, that the states of America are not hostile rivals but cooperating friends, and that their growing sense of community or interest, alike in matters political and in matters economic, is likely to give them a new significance as factors in international affairs and in the political history of the world.” The 48 states of the union listened with rapt attention as the issues of the war, alchohol prohibition, gender and race equality were picking up steam. 
 To put some of the “inconveniences” we face today into perspective, here are some statistics from 100 years ago:

The average life expectancy for men was 47 years old. Compare that to the national average of 78 years in 2015, and give a nod to the advancement of modern medicine and safety standards!

Fuel in 1915 averaged 15 cents a gallon, contrasted to the average of $2.29 per gallon in 2015 - these numbers mean that we are actually paying almost 75% less per gallon than drivers in 1915 based on percentage of income. 



Keep in mind, looking at gas prices, that the average household income prior to 2015 was just over $50k, whereas the median household income in 1915 was $687, which would be the equivalent of just over $16,000 today. 

Only 14% of households in 1915 had a bathtub. In 2015, the average household has not one, but multiple tubs, showers or some combination thereof. 

In 1915, only 8% of households had telephones. Fast forward to 2015, and after the rise of the telephone to multiple lines in every home, the popularity of the land-line is now de-escalating as cell phones are replacing Bell’s contraption across the nation in homes and cars and bedrooms. 

Speed limits in urban areas in 1915 were 10MPH, now, we drive 25-35 or even faster in city limits. On a related note, motor vehicle deaths have increased almost ten fold in 100 years. 


In 1915, 95% of all births happened at home. Now that statistic is reduced to less than 1% in the United States. 

The population of Las Vegas, Nevada was 30 in 1915. Today, Las Vegas boasts 583,756 residents. 
According to the CDC, leading causes of death in 1915 included Diseases of the heart; Pneumonia (all forms) and influenza; Tuberculosis (all forms); Nephritis (all forms); Intracranial lesions of vascular origin; Cancer and other malignant tumors; Accidents excluding motor-vehicle; Diarrhea, enteritis and ulceration of the intestines;  Premature birth, and senility. This year, the leading causes include heart disease; Cancer; Chronic lower respiratory diseases; Accidents (unintentional injuries); Stroke (cerebrovascular diseases); Alzheimer's disease; Diabetes; Influenza and Pneumonia; Nephritis, nephrotic syndrome, and nephrosis; Intentional self-harm (suicide). So while we’ve kicked some major killers with immunizations and treatments, many of the same ailments haunt us today. 

Six percent of the population in the U.S. had graduated from high school in 1915, and two out of every ten adults were unable to read or write. By 2015, the U.S. reported a 99% literacy rate among adults.
 
Heroin and morphine were available over the counter at drugstores in the U.S. in 1915, although marijuana had just been outlawed in California, and a few years earlier, cocaine became illegal, subsequent to the invention of the stimulant laden new soft drink, Coca-Cola. In 2015, cocaine, heroin and morphine are all illegal, but marijuana is enjoying a rapid restoration to over-the-counter status across the United States. 



In 1915 most women washed their hair only once a month using borax or egg yolks as shampoo. 
Eggs were 34 cents a dozen in 1915, sugar was 4 cents a pound and coffee was 15 cents a pound. Bread was 7 cents a loaf and a quart of milk was 4 cents. Making the average hourly wage of 22 cents, groceries took a chunk of change out of a paycheck. 

Harvard College charged $150 a year in tuition, and most other colleges were free in 1915. College enrollment leapt to 350,000 that year. The most expensive textbook in any field was $2.50. Today’s tuition rates are a staggering 42,830% higher than they were in 1915, as compared to the average 2,263% increase in cost elsewhere in society. 

Three hundred thirty-six new words appeared in the Oxford English Dictionary in 1915, including “cushy,” “human resources,” “narcissistic,” and “wino.” 

The U.S. house rejected a proposal that would have allowed women the right to vote. That didn’t stop them from raising their hemlines to a scandalous mid-calf length and bobbing their hair up to their chins. 



Babe Ruth hit his first home run for the Boston Red Sox in 1915, the team would go on to win the world series, which was the first ever attended by a U.S. president (Woodrow Wilson). Players on the winning team received $3700 apiece. 



A mid-range pair of ladies shoes cost $7-$10 in 1915, which would be about $163-$233 in today’s dollar. 

Maybe things were better back in the “good old days”, but unless you like washing your hair with egg yolks once a month in the back yard wash basin, or paying outrageous amounts of money to stay shod, our modern day conveniences are a vast improvement. At the very least, we owe a hundred years of innovation and growth as a nation a debt of gratitude for loaning us a few extra years to live, the miracle of modern travel, and instant global communication with the people we love. Women and minorities have voting rights, tuberculosis has all but vanished from our society, and education is a universal expectation now. Maybe we have too many laws and rules pervading our culture but we’ve spent the last century chasing bigotry and ignorance back into the cave of shame where they belong. We’ve come a long way, baby, and for the most part, it’s good.