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Thread: WSU News Conference (& history of Spokane)

  1. #51
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    Default Let's be very clear heere

    [QUOTE=gamagin;18658]when you need coal or OILLLLLLLLLL
    CaLLLLLL BOYLLLLLLe

    fairfax 5-1521 . . . fairfax 5-1521

    and now (your host for starlit stairway) . . . . TED OTTO ! ! !


    --

    Banner Fuel > Boyle.

    Clary Wright > Ted Otto

    Good Old Smilin' Sylvan > anything.

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    Do I have this right.....................

    Ban-ner Fuel, Ban-ner Fuel,
    N 625 Helenahhh, Ban-ner Fuel

    Gamain and I have traded PM's and we seem to have a minor disagreement on the Bulldog's origins. I say it was built from the barracks that were located on the N side of Webster school. My belief of same is partly based on the fact that the bldgs were a sort of cream/tan color for years as they were unoccupied till the Bulldog moved. I seem to remember Gonzaga HS bldgs as painted blue, but of course I could be totally wrong.

    Not mentioned so far is the shoe repair shop that was located immediately N of the Phillips 66 (Davids Pizza). It was operated by Mr Van Schoorl, a neighbor of ours, and one of the semi-rare non-catholics in the neighborhood. He always had a dog turd (cigar)in his mouth and walked to work daily. One of Jhoops relatives took it over when he retired and moved. The Hardware Store was the next bldg to the N from there.

    I've tried to verify the Barber's name, and my brother does not think it was Bill and he played Trumpet not Banjo.

    On the NW corner of Sinto and Hamilton there stood a large apartment house that had atleast 5 two story w/ basement flats. One basement was converted into another apt. It was torn down (mid 60's) to make way for American Commercial Bank

    Before the restaurant known as August's(Geno's) was there, it had a few lives as other cafe types commonly called "greasy spoons". It was a simple cafe hamburger/shake place prior to going Italian with Frank August (who sold out and moved to Las Vegas when Vegas had a pop. of about 65,000). The operators that I remember last (before August) were named Sponsler, and they opened up a place near Logan school on Hamilton after moving I think the new place was called the Sweet Shop or something like that. Frankie operated in only half the bldg initially, but business blossomed and he took over the N half as well. My brother painted the three Italian scene murals on the wall back in about '63. The glue to that place was Giuseppi Cuozzo, the chef. He worked there for many years under different owners. A weekly ritual was when Mr Cassano of Cassano's Grocery would arrive with the weeks pasta and those two would bargain (argue) in Italian until a deal was struck. I remember Mr Cassano driving up in a Model "A" pickup when I was real little.

    Don't forget "Tomorrow" Furniture at the NE corner of Sinto and Division just across from Zips home of the "Papa Joe Special". It was in an old Safeway bldg and featured very modern furniture. North Bowl was just across Division on Sinto.

    Where was the Cathay Inn, was it the chinese place on Division between Boone and Sharp or maybe Sharp and Sinto? There was also a Western Wear shop on one of those corners in a place that previously had been a frozen food locker, I believe called Penguin Lockers. You youngun's prolly have no idea what that was.

    Bucky Buckmaster, the Giraffe like fellow Gamagin mentioned rode around the neighborhood on a massive Schwinn type bicycle. Another fixture, at least in my mind was Joe Metcalf who lived next door to Gamagin if I'm not mistaken. He was wheel chair bound and attended GU for a long time, finally graduating when I was there, maybe even in my class, I'm not sure.

    The Pine Shed had a lot of notoriety, most not all that wholesome. The Spokane Flyers, Comets, Jets hung out there and there was a lot of infidelity practiced, although in fairness,it wasn't limited to hockey players. One time before going in there, I was advised to wear a wedding ring If I wanted to even have a chance at getting lucky ( I was single).

    Some other memory joggers. The White Elephant, NW Seed and Insecticide, The 2 Swabbies, Moler Barber College, Dr Cowan's Peerless Painless Dentistry, The Old Crow Tavern, The El Rey Theater, Hayhead Ray, F.O. Berg Tent and Awning. OK, my minds numb again.

    Birddog

  3. #53
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    Default the little vatican

    << Not mentioned so far is the shoe repair shop that was located immediately N of the Phillips 66 (Davids Pizza). It was operated by Mr Van Schoorl, a neighbor of ours, and one of the semi-rare non-catholics in the neighborhood.>>

    I mentioned the shoe shop as Winkler's Broom's. Mr. Winkler was a blind former dynamite salesman who was blinded by his product. He used to make brooms, really good brooms, in the shop after Mr. Van Schoorl left.

    the knock on him was he overcharged for his product(s). but frankly, one of his brooms would likely still be in service today, they were so good. The real problem was our parents were too cheap or too poor, to pay for quality. Probably the latter.

    Mr. Winkler always had a professional baseball game playing on the radio in his shop. He could cite statistics until dark. and argue baseball. His kids took him to games and could be seen describing every pitch. He remembered every one of them.

    He had that stevie wonder-ray charles look to him, his blind eyes seemingly looking off in the distance, and upward. his ears were laser-like & cocked for the slightest sound. He could recognize people by their "sound."

    "Good morning, Jerry," he once said as I merely walked by his narrow, open front door, on my way to the IGA. I coudn't believe it. He could probably hear me stealing a pack of walnettos.

    I remember the smells in the shoe shop like it was yesterday, too. a mixture of high alcohol content boot grease or polish and cigar smoke. an instant hit produced an instant buzz. He should have bottled that smell.

    More fun than hanging around the leaded gas pump (lead free was not an option) on a good spring day. Or savoring a walnetto.

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    Interesting, I don't remember his shop when it was there, but I do remember when it was located up near Illinois and Hamilton.

    Birddog

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    Default birddog

    wrote re winkler broom< Interesting, I don't remember his shop when it was there, but I do remember when it was located up near Illinois and Hamilton.>


    speaking of Illinois near hamilton, what about shorty's barber shop ? shorty bronowski (sp?) and what, a dozen kids ? Nice family.

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    Default You folks are amazing!

    I'm really impressed with how well you remember so many of the old neighborhood! I suspect some of you are even older than I am, if such a thing is possible. Of course, I lived in the area only from 1950 to 1960, when I started roaming the world. One place no one has mentioned. There used to be a little grocery store run by a guy named Rooney--about where that cake shop is now. I believe Zagnative's criminal career began and ended in that store.

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    Hah! I'm so glad I wasn't the one who added that one toothpick too many to the pyramid and got this tread booted from the bball forum! What a relief! The pressure is off.

    So many great memories here.

    Before the restaurant known as August's(Geno's) was there, it had a few lives as other cafe types commonly called "greasy spoons". It was a simple cafe hamburger/shake place prior to going Italian with Frank August (who sold out and moved to Las Vegas when Vegas had a pop. of about 65,000).
    My favorite proprietors in this building were Homer and Gladys, who I think ran the place just before or after Frankie August did. One day the nuns at HNA sent me home with a really bad cold, and, of course, I stopped for a coke. Homer and Gladys wouldn't let me leave until they'd fed me a complimentary bowl of chicken soup.

    A big throng of us used to thunder over after school for a smoke and a coke (all the HNA girls smoked, though most tried to keep the fact secret from outsiders). Homer would get so riled by all the commotion and his hands would shake so much the change he'd try to make would jingle out of his hands and go rolling across the table, and he'd sometimes snap at us, though his heart was obviously golden.

    Another gone but not forgotten establishment in the neighborhood, Pal's fountain/cafe on the corner of Ermina and Hamilton. And The Cottage, the little blue building which seemed to cater mostly to truckers and working types, on the west side of Hamilton between Indiana and Baldwin.

    I found out belatedly that the GU/St. Al's neighborhood did have its class distinctions. I was "North of Mission," while the pillars of the community were generally "South of Mission."


    The Pine Shed had a lot of notoriety, most not all that wholesome. The Spokane Flyers, Comets, Jets hung out there and there was a lot of infidelity practiced, although in fairness,it wasn't limited to hockey players. One time before going in there, I was advised to wear a wedding ring If I wanted to even have a chance at getting lucky ( I was single).
    Boy, Birddog, I think you may have dodged a bullet here if your hunting forays were unrewarded. Marriage at 20 kept me out of the meat markets for most of my life, but I had a friend who went on a tear after her divorce from a rather repressive minister guy, and one of the tales she told was of bringing home a "date" she met at the Pineshed and announcing to him, before any serious "romancing" started, "This better be good, or your name is going ... to ... be ... all ... over .... town !!!" I don't think you would have needed that kind of pressure ...

    I feel sorry for young people in Spokane these days. I guess SIN is where you find it, but in earlier days, one knew where it could be found consistently.

    Though the Red Lion is still there, at the corner of Main and Division, it's not the same old Red Lion, with its collection of hookers and cops and lawyers and bums and artists and musicians and drug dealers and intellectuals, black folks, and white folks, and native americans, in short, a melting ### of all classes and races of Spokane society, and what a great place to hear great rhythm and blues in a small, jammed environment.

    Edited to add: Too funny you can't say "melting p0t" here!

  8. #58
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    Quote Originally Posted by Birddog View Post
    The Pine Shed had a lot of notoriety, most not all that wholesome. The Spokane Flyers, Comets, Jets hung out there and there was a lot of infidelity practiced, although in fairness,it wasn't limited to hockey players. One time before going in there, I was advised to wear a wedding ring If I wanted to even have a chance at getting lucky ( I was single).
    Birddog
    The Pine Shed was an interesting dump. Used to stop in there with a couple of Jebbies who taught at GU (they also weren't that particular about id's). A lot of lonely people looking for some company for the evening. Suspect a few of them were selling their company. Seems to me there was a motel next day that rented by the hour. You mentioned the El Ray - had to make a visit there freshman year. Once was enough. Only thing I remember there were six GU freshmen there and a whole lot of middle aged bald headed men. Birddog and I also traded pm's about the Bubble Inn run by Mary Glass, great little hole in the wall on Division. I think Mary knew the name of eveyone who came in. Then there was Ida and Norma selling curtains and window coverings. I think they were at Montgomery Wards and then in the 80's or so started theri own business.

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    By Birddog:
    "Not mentioned so far is the shoe repair shop that was located immediately N of the Phillips 66 (Davids Pizza). It was operated by Mr Van Schoorl, a neighbor of ours, and one of the semi-rare non-catholics in the neighborhood. He always had a dog turd (cigar)in his mouth and walked to work daily. One of Jhoops relatives took it over when he retired and moved. The Hardware Store was the next bldg to the N from there"

    Close Bird, but no cigar. A guy named Angelo (we called him Ange) took the place over from Van Schoorl. My connection is that he was a pal of my uncle who operated the Chevron station on the northeast corner of Hamilton and Baldwin. My uncle also ran a little book out of the back of the gas station and Ange was a customer. As a teenager, I ran bets back and forth between the station and Ange's shoe shop, stopping off to pick up Geno Orlando's (Geno's) business too, among a few others. Some of these guys were real characters and it was an experience I wouldn't trade for anything.

    I'm glad someone mentioned the Bubble Inn. John and Mary Glass were wonderful people who treated the GU students well. She let a few of us run a tab and we'd go in every Friday an settle up and that included a couple of "schooners" on Mary. Two friends and I vistited Mary a couple of weeks before she died and we had a grand time talking about the carefree days at the Bubble. Dime beer night on Wednesdays was packed every week.

    This is a terrific thread and I'm going to save it as a reference to the area with the misnomer of Logan Neighborhood. I sent an e-mail to the city last year suggesting that the name should be changed to the Gonzaga Neighborhood, mainly to capitalize on the national recognition of the name. General Logan was a Civil War vet who I doubt ever set foot in Spokane. The guy at the city forwarded my missive to the Logan Neighborhood Steering Committee and a couple of their finest responded by telling me that the originating committee did not want any inference that the neighborhood was only Catholic. One of them wrote that she was concerned that any possible future scandals invovling Gonzaga could refelct negatively on the neighborhood. Honest, she really wrote that. I politely bowed out and responded that I really didn't mean to start a religious war and that my motives were purely based on PR considerations. I think Gonzaga may be just a little bit more nationally recognized than the obscure name of Logan.

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    Well crap, Hoopster, since you were both Italian, I just figured you were related.
    I think Gonzaga may be just a little bit more nationally recognized than the obscure name of Logan.
    Maybe we could get the head honch moderator to change the settings so that anytime "L O G A N" was spelled it magically became "G O N Z A G A", sort of lie how P O T becomes ***.
    Just a thought, and a small step in reviving the proper name to the area. THAT PART OF SPOKANE WAS NEVER, EVER KNOWN AS THE &*%$@ NEIGHBORHOOD!!!!!!!!!!

    There used to be a little grocery store run by a guy named Rooney--about where that cake shop is now.
    DogTown for those of us who no longer live in Spokane, where the hell is the cake shop? A location would help jog the memory of the place you mention. BTW, am I to assume you are from Hillyard re your handle? If that's the case, are you old enough to remember "Hillyard Hijinks"?

    Native, could the "Homer and Gladys" have been named Stone? I believe right near the end of that place's existence as a greasy spoon, the Stone's ran it. They had a son about 5 or 6 years older than I and lived somewhere nearby. It seems like most folks only ran that place for a year or so until Frankie took it over. BTW, that place has been an Italian restaurant since Frankie August took it over. I'm pretty sure that Butch Smulan was the owner after Frank August sold it and moved, after him I don't know. Butch had a younger brother about your age, maybe a bit younger.

    Birddog

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    Default the cake decorating

    and utensil & cookie cutter shop is on the northwest corner of augusta & hamilton.

    schmulen's younger bro was wayne schmulan. don't recall stones ever running what used to be august's, but agree it went through a lot of owners before it settled in as geno's.

    Does anyone remember bill stevens' cat(s) at the Univesity Pharmacy. He fed them only vitamins. My guess is they feasted on mice when he wasn't around, but Bill swore he only fed them vitamins and they were HUGE. Looked like small dogs. Rich coats and long lives.

    FWIW I did see him giving one of them a fist full of pills one day. And the cat loved them.

    But like I say, my guess it washed the powder down with a mouse now and again. We all cheat on our diets.

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    Default dime schooners at the Bubble Inn

    My senior year 70-71 our class kind of took over the Bubble Inn on Wednesdays, naturally attracted by the 10 cent beer and if I remember correctly 50 cent pitchers. Some of us used to show up 2-3PM Wednesdays just to stake out a place to sit for the evening, usually we didn't leave until 2AM. Spring semester made sure I didn't have a class till Thursday afternoon since I would have never made it up for class in the morning. Got so crowded a few nitghts thay Mary had stop letting people in, especially after the fire department made a few visits - seems they felt Mary needed to pay a little more attention to the max number of people allowed in the building.

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    Default zagnative wrote . .

    "I found out belatedly that the GU/St. Al's neighborhood did have its class distinctions. I was "North of Mission," while the pillars of the community were generally "South of Mission."

    --

    Would you/could you elaborate ? I will then attempt to give you a glmpse of life among the pillars.

    tns & best regards,

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    Would you/could you elaborate ? I will then attempt to give you a glmpse of life among the pillars.
    Five minutes have passed since I read that, and I'm still laughing my ass off. Native mentioned this another time and I did some head scratching then. Maybe it has something to do with the proximity of the Spires S. of Mission, and to the dreaded L0$@# N. of Mission. Now N. of Illinois was getting a little sketchy.

    Dogtown said
    There used to be a little grocery store run by a guy named Rooney--about where that cake shop is now.
    Since Gamagin located it for me, I do remember that little store. I think they tore it down to build the Laundromat, unless it was just N of that bldg. I don't think I was in that place more than 10 times, Safeway was closer to us. The few times I was in there it was probably to buy candy.

    My guess is they feasted on mice when he wasn't around, but Bill swore he only fed them vitamins and they were HUGE.
    I'd guess with a tavern next door, there was no shortage of moving feasts for Bill's cats. Do you remember a kid named Skinner that lived above Joey's for a couple of years. He was an outsider as he went to public school as I recall.

    Birddog

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    Default birddog

    I would love to hear from our friend Zagnative re N/of/Mission.

    re the little store. the bldg still there, the laundromat is north of it, across the alley.

    re skinner: yes, Jimmy. His ma and pa used to trip the light fantastic (Thunderbird would be my guess), then get into fist fights, as I recall. She would win.

    I think it was the 3 rollers in her hair, day and night, and the incessant pall mall (filterless) hanging from her lips, that kept me at a respectful distance. even though the tattered bathrobe and slippers she wore to the store and to the Drugstore, to Joey's, and all day, every day, had a come hither (and I'll kick your ass) look to it. Many times I wish I could have gotten close enough to close that flappping kimono.

    Jimmy was a good kid. Just didn't have a chance.
    Last edited by gamagin; 04-05-2007 at 07:06 AM. Reason: clarify

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    Default This morning I awoke with a vision

    No not that kind of vision, but at least it wasn't that image of Mrs Skinner that Gamagin so accurately painted and that I haven't been able to dislodge from my mind until this supplanted it.

    The bldg that now houses the Bulldog stood either empty or housed forgettable businesses until the Bulldog moved from next door. There was one however that actually made a dent for awhile. I believe that in the space that was the Sharp entrance to the Bulldog, there was a Barbershop for time. I think it might have been called Nick's and was operated by an immigrant, possibly a Hungarian. I am recalling that the window was painted up in a red, white and blue sort of patriotic motif, is that right? The sign was what is known in the trade as a "window splash", or almost, it was maybe slightly less bold than a "splash".

    Old impressions are sometimes hard to kill. I can't help but think that the Laundromat on the NW corner of Augusta and Hamilton was right on the corner, and the wooden bldg that once was a small grocery was next N abutting the alley. The reason this sticks out in my mind is because after a snowfall we would hang out on Augusta waiting for the cars to leave the Laundromat to "ski jog" up the street. I think maybe a House had stood in the place where the Laundromat is, the Neesers lived there. They had a bunch of kids.

    "Ski Jogging", yet another winter sport that gets only passing recognition. I'm betting that if it had ever become an Olympic sport that some from the hood might have made it on the team. I know I was pretty damn good at it. I remember once when a student (probably from California) hauled us up and down Sharp ( this was before Sharp became an arterial and was just a wide residential street) between the tracks and Hamilton at about 50 mph trying to shake us. He thought the bare patches would do us in. Little did he know how slick the bare spots actually were. I remember him finally stopping and asking us how the hell we were able to do it. Conditions like that gave Mr Van Schoorl some extra winter business re-soling our "logger" boots, the standard equipment that any ski jogger worth his salt had. On really good days, a shrimp like me had to fight for bumper space with the older bigger kids and to be successful you had to have a damn good grip and be able to handle the bumping (a boot slide out meant to dislodge you) that occurred and even dish it out. I remember schooling a few college kids every once in awhile in the fine points of "jogging". Another sure fire place to "jog" was on either Baldwin or Indiana (I forget which) catching the cars departing the WWP parking lot and riding the three blocks or so up to Hamilton before running back and hitching another ride. Every year the nuns would lecture us on the dangers of this activity after the first snowfall, although I remember one of them telling us she did it as a kid too. I was impressed.

    Birddog

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    Default ski jogging

    Birddog,

    Your reminiscing about ski jogging reminded my of another thing long gone cars with real bumpers. '50 and '60s era cars useally gave you plenty of bumper to grab onto. I can remember a lot of ski jogging wehn all the snow fell the winter of '68-69. On more than one occasion a Zag ski joggers caused local Gonzaga Neighborhood residents to stop there cars and lecture the bumper grabbers about the dangers of this activity. I wonder if the bumpers we were grabbing onto were not those of some of the parents of the posters on this thread?

    Also long gone from Spokane are the "twin neon" towers of KHQ, and the huge time/temt sign on the Lincol Bldg. I don't remember when they were turn off, it just seems that one day you looked out and there were no longer present.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Birddog View Post
    Conditions like that gave Mr Van Schoorl some extra winter business re-soling our "logger" boots, the standard equipment that any ski jogger worth his salt had.
    \

    You just weren't a regular guy unless you had a pair of logger boots. The problem was that many couldn't afford more than one pair of shoes at a time so the logger boots were worn the whole school year. I remember that Dick Gaffney had the coolest pair of logger boots in the school followed closely by Jim Book's and Billy Diedrick's. Birddog had a pair that were in the top 5 which is noteworthy since there were over 800 kids in the 8 grades, half of which were boys.

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    I remember that Dick Gaffney had the coolest pair of logger boots in the school followed closely by Jim Book's and Billy Diedrick's
    Right on with that Hoopster. Also the fact that we wore them for the bulk of the school year, at least until late Spring when we switched to "tenny's" much to the chagrin of the nuns who routinely lectured us on the "smell". If you wore "loggers" you were deadly in our schoolyard version of Soccer too. Those noontime matches were more like a slugfest of feet. Loggers required a fair amount of care as well. Regular treatments with Neatsfoot Oil, Mink Oil , or Huberds were required to keep them somewhat waterproof and supple.


    Birddog

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    Default Loggers

    Jhoop and Birddog you got me thinking the late '50s and early '60s loggers must have been part of every parochial grade school uniform in at least the northwest....cords, white shirt, sweater and loggers (sneakers optional in the fall and spring.) This got me wondering did the publics wear thin too??????
    Last edited by Bocco; 04-07-2007 at 05:16 PM.

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    Default You guys talk a good Spokane game

    ...but true natives would NEVER use the phrase "ski jogging".

    "Hookey-bobbing" was the proper term.

    And 'bootlegging' had nothing to do with downloading MP3's from the internet.

    But I digress.

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    ..but true natives would NEVER use the phrase "ski jogging".
    Ahem, true native here, I have heard "hookey bobbing" and it was occasionally used , but in the St Al's area it was most often referred to as ski jogging. Just how old are you, and are YOU a native? I was told long, long ago, I think maybe by a nun that it was a derivation of the term "skijoring" which is really quite different, but close enough in this context. Suffice it to say, that if you were telling a story about "hookey bobbing", I'd know what you were talking about, just as some of my friends from Wisconsin knew instantly when I mentioned "ski jogging" what I was referring to.
    It's no doubt a matter of local custom, time, and place.
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skijoring

    Birddog

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    Gamagin wrote:

    I would love to hear from our friend Zagnative re N/of/Mission.
    As I mentioned earlier, I was bemused, on soeone pointing out in recent years, a perceived class divide betweeen those ho lived south of mission vs. north of mission. South of Mission (or on Mission itself), you had your Kelly family (Judge Kelly), the Dugans, the Flaherty's, the Hurley's (including Margaret Hurley, long-time legislative representative in the State Legislature), Hueters (whose family tree included the founders of the Idaho city), the Augusts....

    North of Mission, I think a minimum of six kids was necessary to qualify a family to buy a house - but maybe my perception was distorted by the fact that all my best friends were from families larger than our family of six kids, in the neighborhood north of Mission.

    I wonder if the first snowfall found kids south of Mission on their hands and knees in the hall closet, as we were, trying to find at least one pair of boots one of the older kids had outgrown that was not all torn up? And in the spring, did they cast aside the piles of boots in the hall closet to find the single pair of metal roller skates the family shared and then try to imagine what happened to the key?

    The only redeeming factor in living on Baldwin Avenue, aside from the wonderful locusts and chestnuts that lined the narrow street, was that at least we were not north of Illinois.

    Seemed like there were dynasty families south of Mission, folks hose names you'd see on G-Prep football squads for years to come, generation-to-generation.

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    Stoph, what the heck do you know about ski-jogging in the Gonzaga neighborhood? Weren't you south hill Spokane? Was it you who was the mastermind behind closing off Howard aside LC and establishing the west campus of LC?

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    Default ahhhh ski jogging, of course . . .

    <<kjstoph1 wrote . . ."Hookey-bobbing" was the proper term. >>

    Someone's mother, i think above mission, or perhaps on the east side of the mission bridge, or perhaps above illinois, came up with that term.

    More likely a nun who never lost a glove to a frozen bumper after letting go or got bombed inhaling exhaust.

    As someone who could qualify for mileage plus behind at least 500 bumpers, we never, NEVER called it the above. I can't even say it now.

    We ski jogged.

    Behind priests' cars, nuns cars, parents cars, the Hillyard and N. Addison Bus, the Blue Goose, the bishop white seminary panel, the bishop, the neighborhood doctor's brand new station wagon, Mrs. gowdy's '36 ford and Mr. Reinhardt's Studebaker, beer trucks, Jack Stockton's old gold panel.

    You name it.

    we would even "borrow" a car now and again and pull each other.

    the easiest way to hop a ride usually involved offering to help some neighbor push their car out of the snow. then when they took off, you just ducked down and held on.

    In darker times, when we either didn't like the person, or it was a GU student we just wanted to tease, we would "drive" the car by runnning and pushing the car sideways while it was attempting to turn a corner. The result was hilarious. The car would keep turning, or spinning and then would whip back, at which time we would start pushing it that way. When VW's came out, we could actually drive it anywhere we wanted, they were so light. all good fun unless you are the driver.

    The funniest incidents usually involved some irate driver who would try and get rid of us by jumping out of his car and sliding on his butt trying to chase us. we'd get back on the bumper and he'd attempt to patch out (spinning helplessly instead). If he was particuarly nasty, we'd hold the car from moving at all, or push him around for awhile, running on the curves and send him spinning etc. Until he realized he really was helpless against these barnacles with legs.

    I believe the knees against the bumper allowed for stability and helped prevent getting pitched from the inevitable patches of cement or asphalt, or trolley track or manhole covers, which were never frozen.

    birddog mentioned a california fellow he used to hop.

    A GU student I remember really well was Casey Cummings. I am sure of the first name, pretty sure of the last.

    Casey was a wealthy GU student from california. I doubt this was the same guy as birddog's, but he was loaded, always had a new car and he for some reason liked a good challenge. After hopping him several times, we would bet him he couldn't throw us. turns out he was crazier than we were, BUT we held on most the time and he always paid. If he managed to throw us, he usually would skip the demand for money, saying we'd go double or nothing. My guess is he knew we couldn't pay anyway.

    My last ride with Casey, behind his big Chevy Impala was on a road that no longer exists.

    It was about a two block (max) stretch immediately west of the COG and adjacent to the football oval. It must have been part of the oval's track at one time, but it had been turned into a road some years after the Crosby went in, or perhaps at the same time.

    It's now part of the campus and I think includes a foot path to the foley and the K2 & K1 on the cog side of the old football field.

    Casey foolishly bet us he could throw us before he had to make the T, which would now be Kennedy/Martin Centre. First we circled the block, going over patches of snow and cement and manhole covers (the usual throw them off spots) between Desmet and Boone (right past my house again), then did a small dogleg to the straight stretch, headed south towards the K1. Casey hit the gas. Clearly, he wanted to win in front of his buddies, who were rooting for us.

    My guess was Casey got caught up in the excitement because he accelerated, and was doing about 30-35 by my estimation, on ice and snow, and rapidly accelerating when he (apparently) realized he was going to have to make a T turn one way or the other in about 3-4 seconds. No way.

    He only managed to get sideways before the car slid into the curbing, we were pitched over the embankment and Casey wound up breaking his right front and right rear axle's upon impact. The wheels were cracked, too.

    Besides the big expenses, he paid us, too, after we pointed out we stuck until we reached the T and after we scrambled back up the embankment. he counted noses, showed a little relief that none of us had been killed, then we all had a good laugh.

    As for footwear, I wore a pair of actual ski boots which I waxed with ski wax. Could hardly walk before grabbing a bumper. I'd usually grab an easy first one 'apres waxing, like a shopper leaving IGA, just to get the boots properly worked in and not so slick I couldn't stand.

    Sometimes w/really fresh wax and a buff, when I'd let go, I would pass the car I just let go of. If there was something like a stop sign, or light, ahead, it wasn't unusual to ski right through an intersection, or into a parked car or a tree. Or, worst of all, go into a raspberry producing burning slid followed by a collision with "something." Never anything soft.

    God was with me -- and so was the traffic light -- on more than one occasion when this happened.

    Of course we should have been killed several times. Almost goes without saying. We even used to fight to get closes to the exhaust (for heat) on a really cold day.

    But I can't even remember any of us ever getting hurt.

    I remember a bumper coming off a car right in front of Bishop White and the driver continued on while we held the huge chrome bumper with big, opulant bumper guards intact (there were 3-4 of us) and coasted to a stop, still holding the whole damned thing. I think it was a plymouth.

    Another time, my best friend Mac, let go of a bumper (we were heading to St. Als for church, first friday or confession --perhaps all three -- at the time) and one of his gloves became frozen to the bumper and stayed stuck to it when he let go.

    mac was terrified. started screaming and running after the car.

    It turns out, His mother, who was probably the only person on earth he feared, had told him if he lost one more glove, she would not only have his bigger brother beat him to a pulp, but he would have to go the rest of the winter without gloves.

    He chased the car all the way to the lights at Division and retrieved the glove. He grabbed the next car coming along. jumped it and was fortunate to find the unsuspecting first ride waiting for the light to change and grabbed his glove.

    We witnesses could not stop laughing. Until mac returned.

    Ski jogging was a great form of transportation. Highly underrated and greatly discouraged.

    It was even good for the hand-eye-leg challenge as one tried not to slide under the tires. It also involved communications -- "hey, move over, ####ole, I got dibs on the bumper guard" and hand gestures "same to you, buddy."

    Plus, there were survival skills involved, the challenge of toxic fumes, threatening terrain and sudden stops, girlfriends to impress, siblings to avoid and older bullies to dodge, too.

    It was an urban jungle in the Holy Land. I Loved every minute of it.

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