Calling All Superheroes

by Liv Stecker

Admit it. You’ve always wanted to step into a phone booth (for all you millennials, they’re small, glass boxes that people used to have to stand in to make phone calls if they weren’t at home) and emerge as a totally different person, endowed with superpowers, rippling biceps and of course, a cape. Or if red-briefed heroics aren’t your style, you’ve at least had fantasies of mind-control abilities that could trigger a small earthquake to avoid mundane responsibilities.

Don’t be ashamed, we’ve all wished at some point that we could do something that we just aren’t able to - even if it’s only opening a jar of pickles. But we’ve also all got our weak spots (like non-rippling biceps that require pickle-jar opening assistance) and thankfully, most of us have superheroes in our lives that help us get through things that would otherwise be hard, or impossible for us.

I became an EMT in 2004. My fourth daughter had been born a few months before, and as the oldest daughter from a large, homeschooled family, by the time I had four kids of my own I had established the strong statistical probability of being the “most responsible” person on the scene of any minor (or even major) emergency at home. When I was a teenager, taking care of younger siblings, I had a book from the 1970s that my mom had left for us called “A Sigh of Relief.” I consulted the worn paperback on more than one occasion, like when my sister sliced her knee open using a box knife to build a fort out of old appliance boxes. Or the time my brother slammed his fist through a glass door in hot pursuit of a villainous cousin. It was useful, and I stopped the bleeding, sort of, long before I knew what cell phones were or how much an ambulance bill cost.

I never really liked blood & guts, and to this day, seeing people in real, honest-to-gosh pain, makes my stomach turn in weird knots, but I realized that when I was faced with an emergency, knowing how to do something is a heckuva lot better than standing by, waiting for somebody who does. So I signed up for the EMT class up at Mount Carmel Hospital, never anticipating how much it would change my life.

I worked for Stevens County Sheriff’s Ambulance for nearly five years. Never once during that time did I regret my decision to become an EMT. Instead, I made lifelong friends with both my co-workers and patients, bonding over experiences that can’t be replicated artificially. I have held the hands, listened to the stories, and shared in the grief of strangers. Being an EMT, especially in the small community where I grew up, and my children have grown, has taught me things far beyond how to stop the bleeding and splint the break. It has taught me compassion, humility and patience.

I never would have imagined that being an EMT would lead me to the places that it has. It has opened doors for me to travel to places all over the country and even beyond, in both volunteer and paid capacities. It’s a training that will serve you over and over and over again. Every employer loves to have EMTs on staff for workplace emergencies or when something happens to a customer. When things go wrong at home with your family and friends, instead of digging for an old paperback and listening to your renegade cousin for first aid ideas, you’ll know what to do. You may not have a cape, but you’ll have something in your pocket whenever the need arises, and that ain’t nothing. Living in the small communities that we do here in Stevens County, trained EMTs are vital to the survival of patients in remote, rural areas.

Stevens County Sheriff’s Ambulance (SCSA) wants to help you realize your superhero dreams, just like they did for me. They are offering an EMT basic class that kicks off in January. They will have an informational meeting on November 26th at 6:30 PM. Class Schedule starting in January will be Monday and Wednesday nights from 5:00-9:00 (17:00-21:00) and Saturday 07:30-5:00 (07:30-17:00). The EMT class is about 3 months long. For any questions or to sign up please call 509-684-8261.

SCSA is a unique emergency medical response agency in that it is operated under the jurisdiction of the county sheriff. Most EMS agencies are facilitated through fire departments or private companies, many operated on tax-based funding or as profitable private undertakings. SCSA a fee-for-service company that does not receive any tax based monies. All operating expenses, supplies, payroll, vehicles and the new building have been paid for by company revenues. As one of the least expensive BLS transport agencies in the state, SCSA maintains operations without the help of EMS levies, state, county or city funds, and accepts almost all insurance plans. SCSA is driven by the community spirit of volunteers who have answered the call of the EMT's creed “To conserve life, alleviate suffering, promote health, do no harm, and encourage the quality and equal availability of emergency medical care…” Sign up. Step into the phone booth. We’ve got your cape waiting.

Who Doesn't Want to Eat Pasta For A Good Cause?

Northport Dollars for Scholars is holding its second annual fundraising dinner on Friday, Mar. 9, 2018, at Rivertown Grill in Northport. It will be an Italian Dinner with a choice of Sausage Penne, Chicken Fettuccini, or Vegetarian Pasta. Tickets are $15 each and must be purchased in advance. Doors open at 5:30 pm with no host cocktails.

Dinner will be served at 6 pm followed by an auction featuring donated items and services from local businesses, as well as some from the students themselves. Jewelry, fine art items and collectibles are among some of the hand crafted and donated auction items. All proceeds benefit Northport High School Graduates. Gary and Donna Godes, the owners of Rivertown Grill will donate as much of the cost of the food as possible, making the overall benefit to the students even greater. All proceeds will go to scholarships for Northport High School graduates from the class of 2018. To purchase tickets, please contact Darelynn Brunette at 675-2156.

Small Store, Big Heart- A peek into the life of an Onion Creek General Store owner

By Kristinna Hechinger

The small neighborhood of Onion Creek, Washington doesn't include much. It is a beautiful place with a lovely community, but beyond the Onion Creek School and a scattered collection of houses, the Onion Creek General Store is really the only thing around.

Terri Charbonneau, co-owner of the Onion Creek General Store, has been there for 21 years. The original store was a log structure built in 1978, which contained washers, dryers, showers, and more. However, this store burned down in 1987 and the new one was constructed. Some short years later, Terri and her husband Mark purchased the store.




Terri and Mark lived in Spokane, Washington previously. Terri was a business manager for radio stations there, and Mark owned a Bait & Tackle shop. “Mark kept saying he wanted to move further north,” Terri recalls, “I always thought he meant the northside of Spokane.” However, Mark had a place a little farther north in his mind. Mark’s father used to own the Rainbow Beach Resort in Twin Lakes, near Inchelium, WA. Because of this, Mark has visited the area previous to moving there, doing “product testing” for his shop. This, Terri laughs, was “just another name for fishing.”

Mark found their future business on one of these trips. He was up in Onion Creek and happened to see that the local store was for sale. That day, he called Terri and told her he had found their new home.

When they moved up here, they were both ready for a change. A year previously their son had died at age 14. This was the turning point in their lives. Terri explained that he was a very loving and smart kid, with planned to go to Gonzaga and become an architect. Their loss was devastating, and when they moved they were both in search of a new view of life. 

So, the two of them purchased and moved to the Onion Creek General Store, which is connected to their house by a wall and has a park right next to it. Terri recognized that the store had a lot of work to be done. Her goal was to make it more family-oriented, which she accomplished by banning smoking in the store, managing the partying that had previously been going on in the park, and cleaning the place out. Also, she had a dream to turn it into an old country store, and that's what she did. Being her own boss, she has been able to decorate the store to her pleasing and given it the old country look she wanted it to have.

After the move, Terri was just settling in when she noticed the need for some community action. Terri has a soft spot for kids- teenagers especially, she explained, because she remembers what it was like to be that age. So she decided to do a Tree of Sharing during Christmas time, which she did for 3 years. However, Terri observed that not all of the families who needed the presents were taking some. So she came up with a better idea. She and another Onion Creek local came up with the idea of making stockings for all of the kids in the area. At the time, there was about 60 kids in the local school, but Terri estimated they would need to make 100 stockings to insure every kid in the area got one. So they did. She called this the 100 Stocking Project, and she has continued this ever since, for the last 17 years. With increasingly more and more help from the community, the project has grown during this time.

This is not the only way Terri and the General Store have benefited the community. The store is the only place for local residents to pick up the essentials without driving around 20 miles to the next town. The store sells groceries, hardware, sport and fishing supplies, gift items, and more. There is also a gas pump out front, a wonderful park complete with community-built swings and basketball court, and a little library in the side of the store. The library, part of the Libraries of Stevens County, has a local librarian who brings books, audiobooks, and movies to be checked out every Wednesday. Also, people are able to request books and have them brought to the store on that day. This mini-library was once featured in the New York Times and considered to be the smallest in the nation. It is a blessing for Onion Creek residents who love to read but do not get into town much. The park was built mainly by two locals, Peter Quinn and Dennis Egger. They came to Terri and requested to build a basketball court, and she told them what she really wanted was a swing set. So, members of the community pitched in for funding, and with some hard work, both the basketball court and swing set were created. There is also a slide, firemans pole, tetherball and covered benches. Inside, there are computers available for use, and free wifi. Also, May through September, Onion Creek Store offers delicious hot food cooked by Mark himself.

One local resident says the store is “integral to the community, it's kind of the social hub of Onion Creek.” She says that Terri and Mark are not just store owners, but friends to her. “I treasure them. They are kind, community-oriented, and I look forward to talking to them when I go to the store,” she says with a smile.

Terri has a big heart. The hardest part of owning the store, she explains, is seeing families in poverty and not being able to do much to help. However, she does as much as she can and is glad to help the community in any way she is able to. The community is very lucky to have her and Mark, who feel lucky to be here as well.

Terri loves where owning the store has taken them. When asked what the best part of her job is, she explained that there is lots of parts she enjoys. Owning the store with her husband means they get to be their own bosses, which is a great thing, and they get to work together and spend time with each other. She remarks that they share ongoing humor with each other every day, which keeps the job fun. Furthermore, Terri loves getting to see the local kids grow up, and make a little difference in their lives through the 100 Stocking Project. Since the community is a small one, the store allows her to get to know all of the locals, and she has become very good friends with many of them. Finally, she loves the area they are in. “Getting to look outside and see trees, have deer in our yard, look up at the stars- it's amazing,” Terri explains.

The Onion Creek General Store is open 7 days a week, with varying hours. Week days are 7am-6pm, Saturday is 9am-6pm, and Sunday is 10am-4pm. Swing by for a visit!

DYNAMITE, THE FARMER’S FRIEND

 

by Barry McCombs

It might surprise some readers to know that dynamite used to be about as common an article on farms and ranches in the area as bailing twine is now. I remember as a young kid in the 1950s seeing boxes of it lying around in barns and sheds on both of my grandparents’ farms. While its main purpose was for assisting in the difficult work of removing stumps to clear fields, it was also put to some pretty creative uses as people became rather casual in handling it.

My mother tells how my grandfather would wake them up on the 4th of July by throwing a quarter stick of dynamite up on the tin roof above the attic where she and her siblings slept. That was sure to get them out of bed with a bang. Quarter sticks of dynamite were also employed by her extended family while hunting to drive deer out of particularly brushy areas. Fish not biting? A little dynamite could bring them to the surface.

My father got his start as a lineman by digging holes for power poles that extended electrical service to rural areas. Part of his reputation for completing more holes than anyone else on the crew was due to the fact that he carried sticks of dynamite in his back pocket to help out in rocky places.

Dynamite was also handy for those who might have more malicious intents. Recently, Lora Rose of the local genealogical society sent me a copy of a petition signed by a number of residents including my great grand uncle that was sent to the county officials in 1891. Someone had used dynamite twice to blow up a dam that was located near Addy for the purpose of operating a grist mill for local farmers. The petition was a request to fund the rebuilding of the dam and to bring the perpetrator to justice.

An event in 1892 demonstrates just how effective dynamite could be in an emergency. Nearly the entire population of Colville had gathered to watch a play put on by the Ladies Aide Society in the Meyers Opera House. At 7:30 p.m. a fire broke out at the Dominion Hotel. A bucket brigade was quickly formed but in spite of heroic efforts the fire spread quickly and as recounted below threatened to do away with a major section of the town:

“. . .All glass on the south side of the William Block cracked and fell to the ground. It now looked as though the Rickey store building, Charette’s saloon and the Hofstetter barn and a place called the “Ark” would be destroyed. It was also plain that unless immediate and effective action could be taken, the saloon of James Durkin, Habein’s stable, the post office and possibly Perras and Lenery’s store would soon burst into flames.

At this critical juncture was heard the cry of ‘dynamite and giant powder’ rising above the tumult of the crowd and the roar of devouring flames rapidly eating up the hotel. Almost simultaneously a man was observed running toward the Rickey building with a box of giant powder on his shoulder. At once an order rang out for everyone to fall back and watch for flying timbers. The crowd required no urging to act upon such a sensible suggestion and a deafening explosion immediately followed; the Rickey building could be seen in the air flying in all directions; it was plainly evident that the courageous parties who handled the powder were experts in the business. This was heroic treatment but effective, although other buildings in the vicinity did not escape damage consequent upon the face of the explosion. All of the glass in Durkin’s saloon and Habein’s stable was broken as were several windows in the post office and a large plate glass in the Hotel Colville besides several smaller ones in various parts of the building. William Hofstetter sustained quite severe bruises caused by a portion of the roof of the Rickey building falling upon him.”

Our modern fire departments would no doubt shun this method of controlling a fire although the results might be not any more destructive than current standard protocol. If you happen to have some dynamite lying around and are thinking about using it in case you have a house fire, you should probably check with your insurance agent first.

Stix & Spokes goes Stationary!

By Liv Stecker

Wes and Ali Porter are taking their movable bike, ski and snowboard repair business off the road and into a cozy storefront on Chewelah’s main drag, just at the bottom of the hill from 49 Degrees North, where Porter has previously staged his Stix & Spokes repair trailer. Running for 2 years as a mobile business, the brick and mortar store opened on November 24th.They offer a full-service shop for all repairs, tunes, adjustments, binding work, wax, base grinding, as well as ski rentals from Head and all of your retail needs.

In addition to a great selection of top brand skis, snowboards, skateboards and bicycles for sale, they have all the accessories needed for the sports. Porter is a one man equipment repair service, with his shop full of tools and equipment, he is ready to tackle long ignored maintenance issues and troubleshoot performance quirks and malfunctions. Porter has more than a decade of experience in not only repairing gear, but also as an athlete in many outdoor pursuits.

In the summer of 2017, Porter organized and ran the first and über successful Kettle Walls Skate Park Competition, consecutive with Town and Country Days. Skaters from all over showed up to show off with bikes, boards, blades and scooters at Kettle Falls skate park.

To get your skis, snowboard or bicycles tuned up, swing by their new location at 519 Park Avenue in Chewelah - they’re waiting eagerly to meet you! Or contact Wes at 509-690-2772. You can also check out their Stix and Spokes page on Facebook or their website, stixandspokes.com.

End of an era: why newspapers are a dying breed

By Liv Stecker


We live in a Brave New World where you can have everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, delivered right to your door. It’s counterintuitive with the rising cost of gas and postage, but for rural dwellers who face a 40+ mile drive for groceries, having them delivered for free by Amazon or some other service is nothing short of miraculous. From laundry detergent and coconut oil to light bulbs and dog food, it can all arrive on your doorstep two days later. Anything you want. Anything, that is, except a newspaper.

A letter from the Spokesman Review in December of 2017 announced to rural subscribers in Northport, Metaline Falls, Ione and other small towns on the fringe of nowhere, that the paper would discontinue delivery service as of January 1, 2018. The coverage area change was determined by subscription density in rural areas, where a newspaper carrier might have to go well off the beaten path to deliver a handful of papers. Ultimately, the manpower and cost involved for the distribution of a few lingering subscriptions just isn’t worth it.

“Some of our carriers have to travel a mile or two between delivery stops,” says an employee at the circulation office of the Spokesman Review. He adds that Kettle Falls and most of the areas outlying Colville will also be removed from circulation, although Colville will remain on the route.

While it’s true that with the advent of the digital age, many households have their news delivered via social media, online news sources and of course, television, many of the off-grid holdouts have only ever known the printed medium as a source for current events. Many rural retiree households don’t own a computer, much less an internet subscription or a smartphone with the Associated Press app installed. These are the ones who feel the pain of this cut the deepest. A newspaper delivery has been their only connection to the outside world. Debbie Becker owns the Mustang Grill in Northport, which is arguably the Breakfast Mecca of the “postage stamp” northeast in Washington state.

“This will seriously cut out the world for a lot of my customers who do not have satellite TV or internet,” Becker says. And it’s not just convenience, it’s culture and nostalgia that readers are losing as well. “I sat with my grandparents and read the newspaper. I have customers who come in just to read the paper,” she shares. Becker refuses to believe that this is the only answer.

The Mustang Grill has a small battalion of local regulars who spend their mornings over coffee and the news. Now Becker is torn with how to meet this need. Internet coverage is spotty at best in many rural places, and for her to provide wifi and/or devices for people to access the digital subscription that the Spokesman Review is offering in substitution, is a costly and cumbersome solution. And this is just one small representation of the piece of our communities that will be feeling the loss.

The Spokesman Review says that areas of North Idaho and Whitman County will also be cut from circulation. It’s a problem with no easy solution. Sporadic delivery routes are inefficient at best, and expensive for the paper at worst. Boosting subscriptions in rural areas could help, but is the era of printed material really drawing to an end or is there a new generation of real-paper readers that will emerge from the digital age?

In a 2016 survey by the Pew Research Center, two out of ten Americans said they still read a printed newspaper. Four of these same ten claim to get all of their news online, and more than half of them named television as their main source for news. This statistic becomes more dramatic when broken into age groups: while nearly half of readers over the age of 65 say they still read the paper, only 5% of news-seekers from the ages of 18-29 ever look at printed material - most of them get their news online. If only half of our retirees are reading the paper, and the numbers plummet from there, it’s hard to fault forward-thinking newspapers from adjusting their practice. Projecting forward, it’s easy to speculate that in another 20 years the art of printing will be more of a quaint throwback to nostalgia than a profitable enterprise.

The University of Missouri conducted a survey in 2013 that demonstrated the difference between newspaper readership in rural areas vs. urban ones, and four years later, it’s a safe bet that the disparity has grown even more since then. At that time, two-thirds of rural Americans still read their local paper.

While the Spokesman Review and other large papers that have historically served a large geographic area seem to be shrinking their physical circulation, local weekly papers seem to be holding their own. A study by Stanford University says this is due to a solid relationship of trust between the paper and local residents, and the attention to local detail. What most local weeklies lack, however, is the big picture news clips from across the county lines. National and global news are where rural subscribers are taking the hit, subscribers who often make up some of the most consistent voting base and seems to have swayed the historic presidential vote of 2016. If they’re not getting the news from large circulation newspapers, then where? It’s a quandary that has no universally happy answer.

Box To Bench: precision with a purpose

Mecomber sights in a rifle

By Liv Stecker

Joe Mecomber likes to hunt. The thing about hunting, especially for one on a serious quest, is it requires precision accuracy at long range to be effective. Mecomber’s search for success in the field led to some serious geek-out sessions at the workbench, custom loading ammunition with the exact number of powder grains to gain maximum consistency in long range shooting. It’s a hard-core science that he found himself calculating and calibrating on targets made with torn up Amazon boxes and Sharpies.

Mecomber’s real life background in law enforcement requires a certain attention to detail that the brawny Michigan native has carried over into his recreational endeavors. An avid hunter, Mecomber and his hunting partner were more interested in an efficient route to maximum accuracy with an out-of-the-box hunting rifle than they were in the parts and pieces of building a gun from scratch, which many distance shooters spend thousands of dollars to accomplish.

Box To Bench Precision was born when Mecomber realized, as a fairly new shooter, that a load developing target was something every distance shooter needed, but few had developed as a field usable tool. He set to work honing his cardboard and Sharpie model to meet the exact needs of load adjustment shooting, adding features for site measurement and scope adjustment and printing the whole thing on special weather resistant, rip-proof paper.

The Box to Bench target

Tired of patching pieces of soggy cardboard together to gather his loading calculations, Mecomber came up with a target that can be taken down and tacked back up without shredding to pieces. It’s a 100 yard long range load development target, one of the few on the market today, with details that many custom loaders overlook but can benefit from greatly.

The first batch of 5000 targets began to sell like Tickle Me Elmo in the early 90s. The novel concept captivated shooters as Mecomber found outlets for his new product and reviews and articles about the revolutionary target started to surface in the shooting world. The initial success took Mecomber by surprise.

Working full time jobs in addition to the new Box To Bench responsibilities, Mecomber and his partner could barely keep up with demand in the first few weeks that his target came out. He set up a store front of sorts in the big shop on his property where he not only did his ammunition loading, but handled the shipping and sales of his new company with some help from his wife and other friends.

As word of the innovative target spread among precision shooters across the internet, reviews started trickling back in, including a feature in Long Range Hunting Online Magazine and a shout out in one of Rex Reviews popular long range shooting Q&A videos. Box To Bench continues to grow a national following as long range shooters from around the country hear about the product and the unique niche that it fills.

According to their website, the goal behind Box To Bench is to help the long range shooter get results without the costly investment of a customized rifle.

tools of the trade, long range optics

“B2B is able to provide a reliable and accurate rifle without the high cost of a custom firearm. We have put in the time, money, and dedication to provide shooters with a realistic approach to long range hunting and shooting.” The innovative target meets the shooter at the bench with a cost effective means of gaining precision results. “This is for the development of a long range precision rifle from start to finish all on one target. the entire data collection process can all be logged on this target during its development. The target is tear resistant and waterproof. It has been designed to last.”

Box To Bench targets are available for purchase online and they recently became an authorized dealer for GRS products including rifle stocks and more. To find out more about Box To Bench visit their website www.boxtobenchprecision.com, or find them on Facebook.

A STORY WITH A LOT OF BULL

By Barry McCombs with a little help from his great grandfather

    Few of us alive today appreciate the difficulties faced by the early pioneers of this country in transportation.  Roads were only passable in the middle of the summer and the dead of winter, 8 months out of the year at most.  The heavy forests shaded the roads most of the day. My great grandfather Frank Schmid, wrote that when his family moved to Chewelah in 1880 they never saw clear sunshine from North Monroe street hill in Spokane till they hit Main street in Chewelah on account of the heavy timber.

   In 1883, 35,000 men were employed by the Canadian Pacific company constructing a transcontinental railroad.  The foodstuffs; meat, grain, fruit, vegetables and hay that were abundant in the Colville Valley were badly needed by the men and animals working on the railroad.  A natural channel for transporting these goods was found in the Columbia River, which was navigable from the Little Dalles, a few miles south of Northport, on up into Canada.  The only thing lacking was a boat.  Some Spokane businessmen, including Mayor John Glover, decided to build a boat for the enterprise.  A boiler and engine were obtained in Portland, Oregon and shipped by rail to Spokane.

The engine was taken apart and transported without difficulty to the Little Dalles where the hull of the boat was being constructed.

    The boiler, however, was another matter.  It had to go in one piece and it weighed many tons.  To haul it overland on the roads then in existence seemed impossible.  At that time there were no real work horses in this part of the country, only cayuses.  A freighting outfit called Mitchell Brothers, had a large number of mules they used to ship supplies into Coeur d’Alene but they begged off the job saying that they had no wagon heavy enough for the boiler.

    A Nevada bullwhacker named Bill finally guaranteed to do the job.  This Bill had 40 of the finest bulls (actually steers but all oxen were called bulls at that time) to be found in this part of the territory.  It was purported that he could pick a horsefly off an ox without him ever feeling it with his 20 foot bullwhip, or draw blood from the nose of an ox at will.  Since there was no wagon heavy enough to haul the boiler he decided to build his own.  The wagon he constructed was so big the hubs were the size of a large automobile wheel.

    Bill pulled the big wagon with his 20 yoke of bulls down to the Northwest Pacific depot, which at the time was located on Lincoln street in Spokane.  By the time the boiler was loaded on the wagon a crowd of several hundred people had come to watch.  Bill gave the signal “Whoa Ha!” cracked the whip and 40 bulls strained at the yoke.  At the last stretch of the lead chain, the wagon and boiler came along while the crowd cheered.  The bulls paid little attention to the fanfare but moved slowly along until they came to the Washington Street bridge.  

Division Street Bridge collapse 1915

    Now the Washington Street bridge had a sign on it that read, “not more than 20 head of cattle nor more than 50 head of sheep can cross this bridge at one time.”  The bridges were rather flimsy in Spokane back then.  In fact, a bridge that crossed Division street collapsed under it’s own weight in 1915.  The theaters soon came up with a song entitled,  “Sunny Spokane Where the Bridges Come Tumbling Down.”  To see that the ordinance was enforced Joel Warren, the city marshall was waiting at the bridge when Bill showed up with the boiler.  In a polite manner, Marshall Warren pointed to the sign on the bridge and informed Bill that he could not move his 40 oxen across it.  After staring at the sign for awhile, Bill first pleaded and coaxed and then jeered and cursed at Warren but to no avail.  As long as Joel Warren was marshall the ordinance would stand.  Mayor Glover was standing by but dared not challenge the city ordinance although his own financial interests were at stake.

    In the midst of the controversy, it hadn’t occurred to anyone that although the boiler was heavier than all the bulls combined, the ordinance was specific only about cattle and sheep.  It didn’t say anything about boilers.  When Bill finally announced that he would drag the boiler across the bridge with his two wheel bulls, the crowd that had gathered around first laughed and then cheered.  A red-faced Warren protested but there was nothing he could legally do to stop him from trying.  Excited by the challenge, Bill offered to bet  the marshall $250 dollars he could do it.  The marshall declined but Mayor Glover stepped up and accepted the wager.  The mayor was sure the two  wheelers couldn’t do it but reasoned that he could always return the money to Bill after winning the bet.

    To begin with, Bill unhooked all the bulls except Buck and Spot, the “wheelers” (the oxen hitched closest to the load).  The others were driven in a single file across the bridge and left to chew their cud along the roadside in front of the old California Hotel.  This was the best hotel in Spokane and headquarters for all the stages that went to the “Colville country.”  It is said that Bill went back and talked to his wheel bulls as if they were human.  In a mild tone, he mentioned that his contract and reputation were at stake.  In glowing terms, he spoke about the oversupply of good hay and grain in that paradise called Colville Valley.  He then promised them that every dollar won in the wager would go to buy them that cheap but good feed.

   Bill gave the command and the two bulls started out.leisurely.  When the strain of the load came against them they nearly crouched to the ground in the effort.  A slight downgrade gave them some advantage and the boiler moved out slowly onto the bridge.  Now Bill knew he had won the bet.  He pulled the wagon far enough onto the bridge to hook a yoke up with his lead chain and then yoke after yoke was hooked up until the boiler was brought across the bridge.  A long-faced Marshall Warren delivered Bill his winnings.  Mayor Glover had his plans upset but accepted the loss, happy to see the boiler on its way.  Buck and Spot had to have their shoes reset, as they had loosened them by digging them into the ground while spreading their toes.  Oxen were shod with a double shoe on each foot. Since they wouldn’t hold their feet up for shoeing, like a horse, Bill had to bring out a tripod to lift them off the ground.

    Bill’s caravan of oxen and wagon, several helpers and a camping outfit were soon underway zigzagging around the numerous basalt rocks close to the river all the while accompanied by a jolly cheering crowd.  When the open prairie was reached there was easy traveling until they reached the timberline just west of the North Monroe Street hill. The only way the 20 yoke of oxen could use their extreme pulling power was on a straight line.  Every tree that didn’t allow a straight pull had to be cut down.

    They followed the old road which led just south of where Whitworth College is presently located, then crossed what is now Division Street on the flat below the hill.  The road then turned northeast and crossed the Little Spokane river a couple of miles below Chattaroy.  The bridge crossing the river was a rickety pole construction and although there was no load limit posted, Bill wouldn’t risk his bulls or the boiler on it. A bachelor by the name of James Parvine, commonly known as “Peavine Jimmy” kept a house at the crossing that offered the best accomodation between Spokane and Chewelah.  The journey was interrupted for two weeks while Bill and his helpers rebuilt the bridge with the timber that was plentiful nearby.  The river was full of fish and anytime not spent working on the bridge was devoted to hooking trout with Peavine Jimmy.

    Bill and his bulls had overcome much difficulty to get this far but many more trials lay ahead.  The steep grade up from the Little Spokane had to be pulled between large “hay shock” rock piles that couldn’t be moved and didn’t allow Bill to string out the 20 yoke of oxen.  Up on the level the road was sandy but the timber more open till they reached Lost Springs a few miles east of Deer Park.  From Deer Park the road through the rolling hills was menaced by an immensely heavy growth of lodgepole pine which if they started to lean from the wind would arch over the road with their tops touching the ground.  The road was swampy and in many places had to be corduroyed with poles.  Winter overtook them before they made it through the hills and the boiler was transferred to some skids to be pulled in the snow.  Half of the bulls were moved out and hay had to be hauled in for the rest.

   A new road had to be built past the old Loon Lake hill and several miles beyond to what was called “Big Meadow.”  The boiler skidded along the snow fairly well until they arrive at Grouse Creek hill.  The hill was two steep for Bill to risk the safety of his precious oxen pulling the boiler on skids with no way to brake.  The only answer was to let the boiler down with a heavy rope and blocks.  25 years later scars were still visible on the trees from that procedure.  The same operation had to be employed on Huckleberry Creek hill and Cottonwood hill.

    By the time they reached the Colville Valley, the snow was too rotten for skidding.  Bill brought back the rest of the oxen, transferred the boiler to the wagon and plowed up the soft roads to Chewelah.  Now the roads were breaking up fast.  Anyone who has walked on newly worked ground in Chewelah in the springtime can attest to the extreme stickiness of the mud.  When they reached the west city limits the oxen’s feet were sinking easily into the mud but could hardly be withdrawn on account of the suction.  At this discouraging moment an old Hudson’s Bay Scotchman came along,  Bill asked him “how’s the road ahead.”  “Well, the same as they are here.” he replied.  “I have been in the Colville Valley nigh on 20 years and never saw roads I could call by that name at this time of year.  Where are you going with that boiler?”  “I am going to the Little Dalles if I can get there.” replied Bill.  “You will never make it,” said the Scotchman as he left. Pondering the situation he was in, Bill looked the boiler over carefully and noticed a circle of rivets around it.  He decided the boiler could and had to be taken apart.

    The rivets were cut which left the boiler in two pieces.  He then got another wagon, loaded one part of the boiler on it, divided up the bulls and proceeded on his way.  We don’t know much about the rest of the journey, however, he did fulfill his contract by getting the boiler to the boat in time months after starting from Spokane.  The boat was a success and used for a number of years although it never made the money its promoters had hoped for.  This all happened a long time ago but the next time you travel highway 395 you might think about Bill, his oxen and the big boiler.

Roots in the Grounds: on coffee and coming home

By Liv Stecker

They say it’s a small world. In the northwest, this might be particularly true, or it might just be that our family roots cover a little bit more territory out here than they do in the densely packed eastern side of the nation. John and Lori Sprague moved to the little town of Northport in 2010. For Lori, she knew the moment they rounded the corner of Highway 25 coming into town that it was home.

“I saw Silver Crown Mountain, and the town, and I just knew.” she says, reminiscing about the road trip tour that led them northward from their longtime hometown of Astoria. Lori grew up in Texas, a far cry from the port city that was the first permanent settlement on the Pacific Coast by European explorers. Spending her young vacation days in the mountains of Colorado, the jutting rock face of Silver Crown felt like going back to those days for her. Lori’s husband John, who had been born and raised in the Astoria area, was right on board with her, and ready for a move.

Recently retired from her 27 year career as a Park Ranger for Oregon State Parks, Sprague and her husband were ready for a change of scenery. John, a commercial fisherman, sold the 40 foot whaleback boat that he built after his father, Daniel Sprague passed away in 2007, and the couple decided they needed to make a change.

On a visit to John’s sister Karen in Evans, a drive around the area led them north to the border town that would become home. But it was full circle for the Spragues, as John’s grandfather, Chester had lived in Northport as a boy. The stories about the earlier Sprague family’s time in Northport had become blurry in the telling over their years, and with good reason, as Lori Sprague discovered with some digging into the past. Chester’s father George and mother Vina (Thomas) lost three children while they lived in the area, as well as Vina herself, who died in Northport in 1897. The last surviving child of the couple, Chester moved around with family members of his mother’s until he was reunited with his father and eventually settled in Oregon where George had remarried.

Chester married and raised 12 children in the Astoria, Oregon area, one of which was Dan, John’s father, who raised John and four other children in Astoria. In his final years, Dan moved in with Lori and John who cared for him until his death. After which they found their perfect spot in Northport. A sprawling log cabin was for sale on Craigslist, and with little real hope of all of the stars aligning as they settled their finances in Oregon and pushed toward a move to Washington, they made an offer.

“It was like Dad was guiding us, every step,” says Lori of the way events unfolded. After years of hard work and obstacles, the transaction for the log cabin in the woods came off without a hitch. “We’ve always had to fight every step of the way,” Lori shares, but this was different. Everything fell into place beautifully, definitely with some help from above. The Spragues moved into their new home in 2010, and years later, they have no regrets. In fact, in 2015 John received the payoff for his boat the Spragues were faced with a new dilemma.

“He asked me ‘What do you want to do with this?’” Lori says, with a laugh, and in another stroke of divine coincidence, she had an answer. Fulfilling a longtime dream to run her own coffee shop, the drive through espresso stand in Northport was up for sale. The Spragues put an offer in, and on April 6 of 2015, the birthday of John’s late father, Morning Bear Coffee was opened up, a new face and a new approach to serving coffee to the community.

“For me it’s all about customer service,” Lori says. “Always have a smile on your face!” And her words aren’t idle - in the shop most of the working hours, she’s always at the window with a smile and a cheerful greeting. “The community has been extremely supportive of the shop,” she shares, and for that, she’s grateful. One of her goals for the  business was to provide weekend and summer employment for local high school students, and so far, she’s done a stellar job fulfilling that mission.

Sprague has joined the Chamber of Commerce in Northport and thrown her wholehearted support behind Northport High School athletics and programs. Business has steadily increased since the Sprague’s took the reigns at Morning Bear, and their commitment to making customers happy has won them a dedicated fan following among locals, not to mention traffic passing through to and from Canada, hikers along the Pacific Northwest Trail (which passes through Northport) and seasonal visitors that are in town for hunting and fishing and other recreational pursuits.

Morning Bear Coffee is open Monday - Friday 7:00 - 4:00 PM. Located just off of Highway 25 as it serves as Northport’s main street, the shop has a drive through window and a walk-up spot, with a few outdoor seats for warmer days. Daily specials, breakfast items and baked goods are available at Morning Bear as well. Swing by on your next visit to Northport for a festive seasonal coffee drink!

Big world, small parts: how a local electrical repair shop reaches around the globe

By Liv Stecker

You’ve passed it a million times on your way to work, or picking up the kids from school, or heading out to get your groceries. The little white cement block building on the side of highway 395 nestled in behind Radio Shack, you might not ever notice it until you need to.

Road Runner Electrical opened on March 1, 1992 in Colville by Richard Shull, who has been rebuilding alternators and starters for vehicles since the mid 1970s.

“The rebuild industry has changed so much in the last 20 years, it’s unreal,” Shull says of the shift in auto parts over the decades - when he first opened the business in 1992, he says it was more cost effective to rebuild or repair 29 out of 30 alternators that came through the door. Now, as electrical systems for automobiles are manufactured overseas at a fraction of the cost, it’s often cheaper to replace the whole starter or alternator than to repair it. The statistics have flip-flopped. “Now it’s one out of every 30 that we rebuild.” He says. Shull kept three employees busy rebuilding alternators when Road Runner was at it’s busiest.

In 2000, Matt Prater joined the team at Road Runner and seventeen years later, he and Shull run the entire operation together. Prater bought into the business several years ago and in the spring of 2017, he bought the business from Shull in it’s entirety.

Road Runner has shifted gears to keep up with the changing times. In addition to a flourishing eBay business where they sell electrical parts and repair kits to buyers all over the world.

“We can buy battery isolators from Malaysia and sell them back to people in Malaysia for cheaper than they can buy them there, where they were made.” Matt says. A map of the world hangs on the wall behind the counter at Road Runner, with brightly colored thumb tacks placed in every country (to date, more than 48) and state that the guys have shipped parts to. It’s proof positive that the world wide web has made it a much smaller world, even in a blue collar industry like electrical repair.  But the global eBay sales are only a fraction of what Road Runner offers.

While most of their local business consists of repeat customers over the years, Shull says that remote industry is really their bread and butter.

“70% of our business is from out of town,” he remarks, places like the Lucky Friday Mine in Silver Valley, Idaho, who have used Road Runner for their electrical parts and repairs for decades. But the guys at Road Runner say that they have first-time local clientele to thank for all of the real head-scratcher repair jobs. Road Runner has established themselves locally as the Do-It-Yourself mechanic’s last stop once they’ve reached the end of their limited expertise… or in some cases, just beyond the end.

“With our return customers, when something goes wrong, we’re the first ones they call,” Shull says, but the weekend warrior mechanics often don’t know what they’re up against until the whole thing is taken apart. “We’re the last ones they call, the last hope.” He laughs.

Prater and Shull say that clients bring in alternators in all states of disrepair and disassembly for them to fix. And fix it they do. Along with alternator and starter repair, Road Runner also sells new and rebuilt models, along with parts and supplies, batteries and accessories, and much more. They also repair power tools, trailers, winches and build custom battery cables.  

A few years ago, Road Runner began selling Old Hickory Sheds, which grace the open lot next to their location at 485 N Highway in Colville. Road Runner’s new hours are Monday - Thursday, 8:00 AM - 5:30 PM, and Friday 7:30 AM - 4:30 PM.

Prater laughs that his most productive hours in the shop are the ones when it’s closed and he can focus on his projects. One of his customers recently reminded him that being a business owner meant he was able to choose which 16 hours a day he put in, and while he admits it’s a lot of time and commitment, he says he enjoys the flexibility that being his own boss brings. You can reach the guys at Road Runner at (509) 684-1778, or stop on by the shop and check it out for yourself.

From gravel to gavel: how a small-town orphan became a big city judge

By Liv Stecker

Spokane County District Court Judge Aimee Maurer isn’t exactly sure when her birthday is. This odd uncertainty is one of the reasons that she is so good at her job. Born in Korea, Maurer was adopted as an infant by parents who lived just outside of Portland, Oregon. After a prolonged adoption process, the infant named Park Wol Haw was placed with Keith and Deborah  Jones in December of 1974. Maurer had been left on the steps of an orphanage in Seoul in June of that year when she was only days old. (while this is true of China, Korea did not have the strict family number limits). In the 1960, less than 15 years before Maurer’s one-way trip to Oregon, international adoption was unheard of in the United States. As the Korean War drew to a close, missionary Harry Holt saw the plight of abandoned babies   in Korea. Many orphans were the result of U.S. military presence during the Korean conflict which left behind thousands of bi-racial children. In addition to building orphanages in the war-torn country, Harry Holt  lobbied for a change in US Congressional Law to allow for the adoption of children from foreign countries, of which Korea would be the frontrunner.

After hearing about the Holt adoption program through their church, the Joneses had been placed on a waiting list for a baby.  In the meantime, they adopted two young American foster boys while they waited for their baby from Korea. Before they made the top of the list, they received a call from the Holt Agency.

“I know you’re further down the list,” the Holt employee told them, “but I feel like she is meant to be with you.”

The tiny Korean girl became a part of the Oregon family who added two more adopted siblings, one more girl and another boy, into the mix before they relocated to the Colville area in the mid-1980s.

“They loved the beauty of the area, but mostly they wanted the idyllic small town American lifestyle,” Maurer says of her parents’ move across the Northwest. “They wanted an environment where they could put down roots.” The Joneses established a farm and ran a small arts-and-crafts business in an old homestead on a dirt road south of town with their five adopted children. They grew most of their own food and everybody chipped in to help with the family business.

Maurer’s father became a Precinct Committee Officer and the family became involved in the local political landscape of northern Stevens County.

“It was a big deal to see his name there on the ballot,” Maurer remembers, “It really struck me how you, as an individual, can effect change in  the community you live. ” While Maurer and her siblings were homeschooled all throughout elementary and high school, she began to voice an interest in law school after graduation. At the time, her dad told her that she was “too short to be a lawyer,” which only served to spur the compact, 5 foot, 1 inch spitfire to prove him wrong.

Maurer was married in 1996 and welcomed her first child, daughter Madeline, the following year. In 2000, following the birth of her first son Liam, she started school at Spokane Falls Community College. Maurer’s second son, Oliver was born in 2008.  “In the back of my mind I still had this desire to be a lawyer,” Maurer said of the years she spent building a new life when her marriage ended. “I wanted to be a prosecutor, and focus on domestic violence,” she said, now armed with experience that motivated her from the damage to her own marriage and the fracturing of her parent’s family under abusive circumstances. She was accepted to Gonzaga Law School in 2003, proving to her father that height was no determiner of destiny.

Maurer went on after graduation to work for the Kootenai County Public Defenders, The Washington State Court of Appeals and worked in the Spokane County Prosecutor’s Domestic Violence and DUI Units as well as working for private law firms in insurance defense and plaintiff work. The broad diversity of experience was backed by an underlying motivation for the diminutive but feisty lawyer.

“In the back of my mind I knew that someday I wanted to be a judge,” she says, “and a good judge has both civil and criminal defense and prosecutor experience. I tried to pace my career to gain well rounded experience.” In 2009 when she was working as a prosecutor, she met Joshua Maurer, a defense attorney with whom she promptly got into an argument, one that she says he claims victory in. Regardless of who won the argument, the pair was married soon after. . Maurer and her husband operated their own law firm until 2014 when the opportunity to run for judge presented itself.

“In Spokane County, an incumbent judge had not lost an election in nearly 25 years,” says Maurer, but she viewed the campaign as a full time job, motivated by one strategy learned from years of overcoming daunting obstacles: “It can be done.” Maurer is a firm believer in a perspective that she says  every political view can get behind.

“When I ran, both sides could find consensus in the fact that the system is broken.” Criminal justice accounts for 70% of the Spokane County budget. She is an advocate of reforms that will use taxpayer money wisely and efficiently. For Maurer, the answers can be found in getting back to a strong work ethic and better education. Without these, “Crime rates go up, the jails are full and costs are rising... The U.S. jail system is the number one provider of mental health services in the nation.” Maurer says. If the process of getting there wasn’t enough of a challenge for the young Judge, the job itself is no walk in the park.

“We have our challenges,” Maurer shares, “but on a daily basis, we affect people’s lives.” In addition to the daily docket, Maurer sits on committees that are working to implement reforms in the criminal justice system.  She is committed to making her community a better and stronger place, one person at a time.

In spite of the imperfections of her family: biological, adopted or otherwise, Maurer says that she was taught the value of hard work. As a single mother in law school with a non-traditional educational background, not to mention her adoption and unconventional upbringing, she is a powerful example of the potential of dedication and hard work. There are no excuses big enough to stand in the way of what you really want to do.

“You can make a difference in your community and in other people’s lives,” Maurer says, and if anybody knows, she does.