August 22, 2006; interviewed by Cheri (Stadler) Ryan
[“Um”s and other speech fillers have been omitted.]
Cheri Ryan, Alderwood Manor Heritage Association: It’s August 22, 2006. This is Cheri Ryan, and I am interviewing—
Ivy Tjerandsen: Ivy Tjerandsen.
CR: And your maiden name?
CR: Kingsley. And Ivy, do you mind telling me when and where you were born?
IT: Beacon Hill, Seattle.
CR: And when?
CR: 1914. And when did your family come to Alderwood Manor?
IT: 1919. I was five.
CR: You were five years old. And what were the circumstances that brought you to Alderwood?
IT: I guess all [the] publicity about the five acre plots that Puget Mill [Company] was setting up and of course the Demonstration Farm was there to show people what they could do on five acres, like fruit trees, and they put the chickens and all the flowers and the gardens, vegetable gardens and fruit trees and nut trees and everything was on the Demonstration Farm for people who got—We moved there and all we had was a house surrounded by stumps. That was it. So that [was] the beginning of it.
CR: And did your parents buy five acres?
IT: Yes, they bought five acres, and evidently before we moved out they had it all set up.
CR: And where was it located?
IT: On Beech Road, which was directly behind the original grade school. It faced the railroad tracks, the big—Interurban tracks, I should say.
CR: And was there a house on the property when you moved?
IT: Yes, the house was built. Most of them—Because—Most of them were identical, a lot of them, because I know the Gyldenfeldts, who were our neighbors in Seattle, moved out and they had one exactly like ours next door, so I don’t remember how many more like it, but it was a standard two-bedroom one.
CR: And did your father move out here with intentions of raising chickens, or what?
IT: We had chickens, and I remember that went good for quite a while, and then we had a—They started to put in another chicken house and we had a terrific storm, and it blew over, and I never forget the Interurban went by, and the conductor came out to ask if anyth—everything was okay, and that was something, I thought, for him to take time to get out of the Interurban and come and ask us if we were all okay.
CR: Yeah. So was that how your family was making a living at the time?
IT: That was it for quite a while. I don’t really remember when he [her father] went into the trucking business. I don’t have any date for that. But he eventually had two trucks and did, hired someone to ride the other one. But my dad passed away so early, in 1934, my brother was 16, so he had to quit school and go driving trucks.
CR: And this is your brother—
IT: I call him “Buster,” but his—All his friends call him Bill, I guess. He was more well known by Bill [William].
CR: Bill. And was Bill younger than you?
IT: Two years.
CR: And then did you have any other brothers or sisters?
IT: Just Harold, was the youngest one.
CR: And how old was Harold? How much younger was he?
IT: There were two years between us [between each child – Ivy was two years older than Bill; Bill was two years older than Harold].
CR: Okay. So, your father—The trucking business: was it a hauling truck?
IT: Yes. Chickens, and gravel, and— Of course, I always felt, thinking back on it, a 16-year-old having to haul gravel out of the gravel pit up in the truck, it was hard work for him. So he had a really hard life. But he made a good living because everybody in Alderwood knew us and so he had lots of work, so that was fine.
CR: And so your father passed away in ’34, and your brother Bill took over the business—
CR: And how long did he keep the business going?
IT: I don’t know. He had—One of the Romano boys was the one that was driving the other truck, I don’t know which one it was. And I would—Those things, I don’t remember.
CR: And was there a name—Did your dad have a name for the business? Or—?
IT: I don’t think so.
CR: Everybody just knew. What were your parents’ names?
IT: Mildred was my mom. And Frank. And Frank, my dad, was born in Dover, England, and my mom was born in Childers, Queensland, Australia.
CR: Ah, okay. And they ended up in Seattle and then in Alderwood.
IT: Right. Yes. My dad came from England to Canada to see his sister, and there was no work there, so he come [sic] down to Seattle, so—. The first [inaudible – “one” ?] of the pictures in the heritage book [Little, Marie, Kevin K. Stadler, and the Alderwood Manor Heritage Association. Alderwood Manor (Images of America). Charleston: Arcadia, 2006 ?] shows a bunch of men going out to the woods, and I’m sure my dad was one of those, because that’s what he did, he worked in the woods.
CR: Oh, okay. That’s what he was doing: came to Alderwood, started raising some chickens, and then started the trucking business. Then did your brother Bill, was he able to keep the trucking business going after your father passed away?
IT: Quite a while. I don’t really remember what happened after that. Of course, I left home in ’95 when I was married.
CR: In what year?
IT: Nineteen-ninety—thirty-five. So what went on after that, I really didn’t keep that close tabs on it.
CR: And where did you move to?
IT: Seattle, in the University District.
CR: Okay, so you didn’t move far away?
CR: No. So, tell me about where and when you went to school.
IT: I started grade school in Alderwood, but I remember back in Beacon Hill, we had tables with little cubbyholes for each side. I still remember that, but I don’t think I went there very long because I remember going to kindergarten here in Alderwood also.
CR: And was this at the old grade school, or the new building?
IT: No, I went to the old, [laughs] two-room one first.
CR: And what do you remember about that school?
IT: Not too much because soon after that, we moved up, and I remember walking up the hill to the new grade school.
CR: And you probably—What grade were you? First, second grade?
IT: That I couldn’t tell you. [laughs]
CR: Okay. So you went through the eighth grade at Alderwood Grade School?
IT: Oh yes.
CR: And who were some of your teachers you had?
IT: [Jennie] Beebe was the principal. [to self: Oh, I can remember. (?) ] Edmonds—I really don’t. One was Stillwell [?] and one was Records [?]. So—But that’s about all I can remember.
CR: And do you remember anything about when you went to the new Alderwood Grade School? Anything about it? The playfields, or anything that you would play at recess? Or any of your classes?
IT: I really don’t remember them. I remember going there; I graduated, or left, in 1928. I think that was when I left and went to Edmonds.
CR: And I assume, from you telling me where you lived, you must have walked to school; it wasn’t very far.
IT: Oh yes. We walked the railroad tracks a lot, and then of course eventually they put in a bridge across so I was able to walk up the hill and over the bridge to school.
CR: The bridge went over the Interurban tracks then?
CR: So, where did—Tell me about where your mom shopped when you lived in Alderwood Manor.
IT: Well, I think that, the Wickers store [inaudible], that was owned by Parkers [inaudible]. And then when the Red and White came in, I think we started going there. And then we had Schoner’s Market, and then the Red—that went out, and we eventually had another meat market over by the Dolphin’s—the building where Dolphin’s Gas Station was.
CR: And did you ever go shopping with your mom?
IT: Probably not.
CR: You don’t remember ever doing that?
IT: No, we—Of course, we had meat delivery that came to the door. That was something that was neat.
CR: And who delivered that, do you remember?
IT: Well, Schoner owned that, the meat [inaudible], his truck. Anyway, he went out. But I can remember still, after he quit, [inaudible – “gave my mom a note that said “Get me a pot roast” (?) ], about 60-cents’ worth,” so it probably was quite a bit of meat for 60 cents. But that was one thing I remember, taking the note up to, I think Cherry Hill was the one that had the meat market at that time. But some of the dates might be wrong, but that’s the way I remembered it.
CR: And do you remember where you got your mail?
IT: Oh, at the post office. It was in the same building that—
[announcement over PA system; tape paused]
IT: —in that building was Puget Mill. And eventually around the corner, there was a dentist, Dr. Dawes. And one time there was a doctor in there, I don’t remember his name, either, but there was a whole building was full of different ones. Oh, the barbershop.
CR: And what, who had the barbershop, do you remember?
IT: Hmm… I can see him now, but I don’t remember his name either. [laughs]
CR: [laughs] So—
IT: That’s going back a long ways. [laughs]
CR: Yeah, you’re doing a good job. So, then you went to Edmonds High School, starting in the ninth grade. And how did you get to school?
IT: On the bus.
CR: And where did you catch the bus at?
IT: Up in front of the Dolphin—I guess it was a store there at that [inaudible – “time”? “day”?], too, and the gas station and the garage [inaudible – “all in a row” ?]. That was where we got it.
CR: So you would walk up there and then ride the bus down into Edmonds?
CR: And do you have any memories of Edmonds High School? First impressions, or—
IT: No. I always felt kind of stupid at some of the things I did. [laughs] I wasn’t very good at geometry, I remember that part. And I had to do it over the next year; I was just about to graduate.
CR: And who—Do you remember who some of your school friends were?
IT: Well, when I moved in here [Chateau Pacific Senior Living center in Lynnwood, WA], you won’t believe it, there were four of us that graduated from high school in 1932.
CR: That lived here at Chateau Pacific, where you live. And who were they?
IT: Well, her maiden name would be Margie [Marjorie] Klein. And Mildred Anderson, and Gladys Tutmark.
CR: So you were four graduates of 1932, all living here. And were they your friends, do you remember, in high school? Did you remember them?
IT: Oh yes, yes. Oh yes.
CR: And any other friends that you can remember?
IT: You mean boys?
IT: I remember Knox Bellingham, for one. And… oh, there were so many, I couldn’t— [trails off]
CR: Was there anybody—
IT: Dale Leonard [?] was the one, a sort of boyfriend or something-or-other, we called. But no, I can’t remember [trails off].
CR: Were there any kids that lived by you that you played with, do you remember?
IT: No. Beate Gyldenfeldt, who happens to be related to Carole Johanesen, she was older than me, so I, we didn’t have any playmates— And in the family— There were only three houses on that street. And Bevises [Bevinses? Beavanses?] and Gyldenfeldts, and us were the three, and the Bevises had older kids than we had. I don’t know how much older than Beate was than I was, not very much.
CR: Did you and your brothers play on the farm?
IT: Oh yes, [inaudible] a house. And I also remember that first when we moved there, there was no bath, bathing—no toilets, bathrooms, I guess, and we had to go down to the outhouse, and my brother loved to throw rocks so I couldn’t come out!
CR: [laughs] You were afraid to get hit by the rocks when you came out. [laughs] Was this your younger brother or—
IT: Oh, no, they both of them got together and decided to do this. [laughs]
CR: So, going back to living on the little chicken farm: what kind of food did your mom cook?
IT: Well, we didn’t buy much, we lived off the land.
CR: And what kind of— You had, obviously, chickens.
IT: Oh yes. To this day, I have, I made a mistake of showing this to one of the waiters [at Chateau Pacific], and every time we have chicken or eggs on the menu, he goes in cackling, or falls on the floor, or does something-or-other really crazy, every time we have chicken, which we have quite often. But anyway, it’s cheap and nourishing, and that’s why they can afford it. But that’s about the things that happen here. I can’t remember anything else from way back.
CR: So, did you ever work in Alderwood Manor?
IT: Oh, yes. That comes back to the Heritage place [Alderwood Manor Heritage Association cottage]. I couldn’t—Because of the finances, there was no way for me to go on to school, so I worked at the hatchery for ten cents an hour. And I did the shopping, and the two hired hands [inaudible – “I got, went to work at twelve” ?], and I had to get lunch for them, and clean up the kitchen, and do the shopping, and clean up the dishes from the night before [laughs] [inaudible – “because both of them, the wife” (?)] were out at the hatchery, so I did it. And I stayed there for about two years, I think. And then I married one of the hired help [Louis Gross Jr.] and that’s why, and we moved to Seattle.
CR: Oh, after you got married, the two of you moved—he left, both of you left working at the farm?
CR: So who were you working for? Who was your boss at the time?
IT: Norm Collins.
CR: And can you remember anything about him, specifically?
IT: Good-looking. And they did have a daughter, that’s about all I can remember, too. I can’t remember her name. That’s all I remember from there, I think.
CR: Ten cents an hour: did that seem like a lot of money back then?
IT: It was, because I remember one Wednesday when I was supposed to get paid, they didn’t have the two-and-a-half [dollars]. I mean, things were rough.
CR: So, two-and-a-half, that’s—
IT: For the whole—
CR: You worked—
IT: Fifty cents a day.
CR: Fifty cents. So you worked a five-hour day. And did he pay you in cash?
IT: Yes, and one day he didn’t have it.
CR: And…But he—Did he pay you eventually?
IT: Oh, yes. That was the only time that happened.
CR: And so, when you say you did lunch, did you go someplace and get lunch for them? Or did you make lunch?
IT: No, I had to make the lunch.
CR: And where were you doing that at?
IT: Well, in the kitchen there.
CR: In the Superintendent’s cottage?
CR: Oh! So you would go and he was living there, too. Mr. Collins? Was he living there?
IT: Oh, yeah, that was their house.
CR: Okay, so they would all be out working in the hatchery, so you would come in and fix them lunch, and then clean up. And did you do little other odd jobs for them, or—?
IT: Oh, yes. I had to dust, keep the house up, whatever I could see needed doing. But, anyway, when I went up to see the cottage [AMHA cottage], it didn’t look much like it, but part of it did. The outside did, but inside, of course the long room, it had a breakfast nook as part of the kitchen, so the kitchen wasn’t as long as it looks now. And then the back porch came off and they had a washer and dryer out there. Probably wasn’t a washer and dryer, but probably a washing machine [laughs], that’s all.
CR: Did you do any of their wash for them, too? Was that one of your tasks?
IT: No, I didn’t. [tape paused?] [to someone else in the room?:] That’s that.
CR: So mainly picked—cleaning up the house, and doing some cooking for them. Did you ever, did you have to go do shopping for them?
IT: Yes, I did the shopping.
CR: And where did—
IT: Oh, I know something that was really, that happened. I never cooked. My mom— I don’t know why, a lot of kids remember making cookies, but Collins wanted to start a—what do they call that?—a Chamber of Commerce, so he invited [William] Dolphin, and [Warren?] Little [or William Liddel?], and all the tradesmen, I think you call it, to come to a meeting and discuss that. He said, “Ivy, will you make two lemon pies?” I could have gone through the floor right now. I didn’t know the first thing about making pies! Of course, they didn’t have crust, ready-made crust like now, so my mother gave me specific directions and I couldn’t believe it, even the meringue was nice and high enough, and the next day, when I went to [inaudible – “tell them” ?], all the tradespeople came out to tell me how good the pie was. So that’s the one thing about that that really scared the lights out. I probably didn’t sleep all night. [laughs]
CR: [laughs] Do you still make lemon pies? Did you?
IT: [laughs] No, I didn’t.
CR: [laughs] No? Was that, that was the only time? [laughs]
IT: [laughs] That was the only time he asked me to do something like that. But no, they never ever told me— She [Vera, Norm Collins’ wife] used to buy [inaudible] she never would tell me what to buy for so-and-so. It was just probably staples or something, more or less, that I went after.
CR: And do you remember the kind of things that you would fix for them for lunch?
IT: I suppose soup and sandwiches probably was it, but I really don’t. I can still see the stove; it was one of those kinds with the high oven down like this, I don’t know just exactly what, but it was so different than our wood-and-coal stove that I had at home. See that was—
CR: Oh, you had a wood-and-coal stove—
CR: —at home, and was this one at the Superintendent’s cottage, was an electric one?
IT: So that made it all that much worse. [laughs]
CR: And I assume they had an icebox?
IT: I’m sure there was. Well, after I left back there, I went to work for Dr. Dawes.
CR: He was the dentist?
IT: The dentist. And he had four children, and I sort of babysat the smaller one, and did about the same thing. When I’d go to work at noon, or whatever it was, [laughs] the dishes were from where, I don’t know, they were in the sink, they were here, they’re on the stove, they were on the floor. [laughs] It took me about an hour to get those dishes all washed and put away.
CR: Was there a Mrs. Dawes?
CR: Did he have a—
IT: Oh yes!
CR: But she didn’t, she left the dishes for you? That was your job.
IT: Oh, no, the kids were supposed to do it, but when I got there, the sink was still full of water and still dishes in it. So that was one interesting thing about it. So I worked for them for—I got a little more money, I think; maybe not much because I remember I was, stayed to babysit at night and made a whole 25 cents more.
CR: Oh, well, you know, that was worth it. So, what year did you and your husband get married?
CR: ’35, and then you moved to Seattle.
CR: How long did your mother remain living in Alderwood?
IT: Well her—They lived—She married once, and that didn’t work out, so she married Lawrence Larson (sp?), and he was the real estate—And they lived up here, where the corner of Lake Serene—there was, used to be a real estate office. Well that—my mom lived in their house next door, and it’s still there, and they [current owners?] keep it up real nice, because when my mom was in the nursing home, that was her first thought: “I suppose they pushed my house over.” And it was kind of sad.
CR: So, I’m going to go back to your place down on Beech Road, at—Your father passed away and your brother took over the trucking business; did they sell the farm then at some point, or did your brother live there?
IT: No, they—My mother—brother [Bill] built a log house next to my mom’s place, and he and Helen [his wife] lived there for a number of years, and then the state took both of them, so—
CR: For the freeway [Interstate 5]?
IT: The Buster [brother Bill] place is on 36th and that house that—maybe you know which one it is—that sits way up on the hill, just before you come down into Alderwood? It was Geltz’s was in there, and it’s right up from there.
CR: And that house is still there?
IT: Well, yes, they’ve got it for sale for about, it’s worth about two million bucks because it’s got two acres.
CR: Oh, so it’s for sale right now.
IT: Yes. My niece said, “Just imagine that.” She said they sold the school property, which is four acres, for six—four million, so she figures Buster’s two acres must be worth about half of that. [laughs]
CR: How long did he live there?
IT: Oh, well from the time the freeway—I think they moved in then. And of course, his house is still there, but he’s been gone, now, [inaudible] months.
CR: Was he living there when he passed away?
IT: Oh yes.
CR: Okay. And is the house empty now, right now?
CR: So his family—
IT: She doesn’t know what to do with it yet.
CR: His family has it for sale then?
IT: Well, she [brother’s daughter?] lives in Oregon, and she’s not quite sure what she wants to do about it. There’d be a lot of capital gain and she had just sold her house down there, and put an end to another one, so I don’t know what, exactly, they’re going to do. But she’s got three people that want it and so, anyway, I think one was going to make an offer when she came back up here.
CR: Tell me about—You and your husband, you moved to Seattle, and what kind of work did your husband do?
IT: Oh, he first started, he worked for North Coast Electric, that was his [inaudible – “last job”?].
CR: And do you have children?
IT: Just one daughter. [inaudible – “by [inaudible] and [inaudible] ] got divorced and remarried in ’52.
CR: And your daughter’s name?
IT: Carol [Gross]. She never married. She retired from Shell Oil after twenty-odd years, I don’t know, it was a long time. Thirty-some-odd years.
CR: And does she live in the area here?
IT: No, she lives at, in Kirkland, Totem Lake. I depend on her for everything and she’s having a rough go because two years ago she got a new kidney, and it’s been having a lot of problems, I think [inaudible] doctors more than anybody I know, so… Yesterday I had her for a while, the first time we’ve gone to lunch in a long time.
CR: You, before we started today, you were sharing a story about a raffle at Parker’s store.
IT: Oh, yes.
CR: Can you share that story with me again?
IT: Yes. It was laid out a little bit different than the store is now because it was a bigger area by the window, so they had three pieces of dining room furniture: a dining room set with four chairs, a buffet, and a china cupboard. And they had this raffle going on for about a month, and every time you made a purchase, you got a slip of paper to put into this tub. And I—maybe I was ten or twelve years old, I’m not sure. But anyway, the Saturday that they decided to raffle it, my dad or somebody hoisted me up and set me by this tub so I could draw the numbers, the names out. And I drew my dad’s name first, and of course everybody just growled, or [inaudible – regged (?)], or something, I forget what, they all—Of course, there was dozens and dozens of people in the store, waiting for this raffle, that came from Alderwood. So anyway, before that, mom, just for fun, said, “Well, if my name comes up, get me the dining room,” because we didn’t have a dining room set, we just had a kitchen set. That’s all we had, we didn’t have any dining room furniture at all. Yes, we had a buffet, I guess. But anyway, Mr. Birt and Echelbarger got the other two pieces; I never knew which one had got what. I’ve seen Shirley [Echelbarger, daughter] several times, and I always was going to ask her if she remembers what they got, because I’m sure they probably still had it because the things never wear out. [laughs]
CR: So you—Do remember how old you were?
IT: I must have been around ten or so; I wasn’t very old.
CR: Did you ever ride the Interurban from Alderwood to Seattle?
IT: Oh yes.
CR: What can you tell me about that?
IT: We went for the—All of us went in for the Fourth of July parade. And my brother—what do you call him, Bill? I’ll say Bill—he had to sit out in the vestibule because he got carsick, I remember that part about it. But, anyway, then when we saw the parade and then we went up to my uncle and aunt’s up on Beacon Hill for dinner, so that was a long trek, getting on the streetcar, and going up there, and going on the Interurban. So that was a full day, but that’s one thing I remember going.
I always remember my mom went in quite often and we’d wait for her to come home, and I remember one instance [?] when she went and we thought we’d be nice to her and we’d clean her, scrub her kitchen floor. So we worked real hard on it, but the only problem is we used too much Dutch Cleanser, and by the time we brought my mom home, the whole kitchen floor [laughs] was white. And she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had that to get through. Our thoughts were in the right place. [laughs]
CR: [laughs] She probably never left you home by yourself again.
IT: That was funny.
CR: So you told me, the house, when you got there, it was a two-bedroom—
IT: Yes. And no bathroom. Eventually, we put a basement under it, because we had just a pot-bellied stove, I guess, and a little [inaudible] pipe from the—We used a lot of the fireplace for heat, and then we eventually got this other because the bedrooms in the back were so cold. And eventually they put in a basement and a furnace, and added a room on for the bathroom.
CR: And did you and your brothers share a bedroom then?
IT: The two boys slept together, but Buster was so tall that he eventually grew out, so after my dad died, I had to sleep with my mother, and then Harold took the other bed, my room. It was originally laid out to be the bathroom, because the enclosure they made into a closet, for my room.
CR: You told me your brother Bill, he took over the trucking business and lived out here for all his life. And your brother Harold, did he—
IT: He and his wife never seemed to get along with our family [laughs], so she moved him back to Kissimmee, Florida, and I never heard from him at all after that.
CR: So, two of you stayed in Alderwood, pretty much, and one left.
CR: And now you lived in Seattle most of your married life then?
IT: No, we came back here—Let’s see, I’ve lived back here…in fact, I’ve been here [Chateau Pacific] six years. Before that, we lived at the condo on 124th; we lived there for 15 years. And had that mobile on 112th, I was there six, so add them together, that’s how long I’ve been back. Six here, and six at the condo.
[end of Side A]
[beginning of Side B]
CR: Is there any other people that you remember from Alderwood? You’ve mentioned the Collins, and working for them, and Dr. Dawes. Is there any other people that come to mind?
IT: Schoner was the meat man, market. Now there’s a Schoner’s something-or-other on Highway 99. I don’t know if that has any connection, but it’s the same spelling: it has C-H. And I have a—The closest ones, I think, were Mabel and Ed Schoenholz: we played cards with them all the time, and had dinners with each other for quite a few years.
CR: And your mom, do you remember any of her friends? Probably the neighbors?
IT: Well, she was quite active in Eastern Star, and I remember she always made sandwiches or something for the dances. She married Ralph Young but he was too—just the opposite of Lawrence, I guess. Lawrence was slow and that, and the other one was, like to drink and dance, and that didn’t sit too good with my mom.
CR: And what was his name again?
IT: Ralph Young.
CR: And then her third husband was Lawrence Larson?
CR: She was involved in Eastern Star; were you involved in any organizations?
IT: I was in the Rainbow [Girls], yes.
CR: And what kind of things did you do with the Rainbow?
IT: I don’t know that there was much. I remember there was part of the time we went to Edmonds and mixed with their group, but I really don’t know what we really did. We had our meetings [inaudible – “of course” ?] at offices, but— [trails off]
CR: And you mentioned dances; did you go dances in Alderwood?
IT: I did. I was kind of shy because I did weigh a hundred pounds when I was growing up. And I had inferiority complex. I didn’t think I fit in anywhere, I guess that was it. And so I really didn’t have a lot of [inaudible]. Marjorie Thompson, I don’t know [inaudible] her name was. There’s Thompsons that are still out there. There are two Thompsons—one was S-E-N, and that was Jean, which I graduated from high school, and she and I sat together at the picnic and I hadn’t seen her for years, but she was in that same mobile park as I was for a while.
CR: Oh, okay. And the dances, where did they hold them, do you remember?
IT: At the Masonic Temple.
CR: The Masonic Temple. Were there other kind [sic] of activities that took place at the Masonic Temple?
IT: We used to have a show once a week. A movie.
CR: A movie. And you went to those?
IT: Oh yes.
CR: Do you remember how much they cost?
IT: I have no idea. [laughs] Probably wasn’t very much. But we first started Sunday School, though, at the—what do you call it?—on the Demonstration [Farm] at that community hall. That was where we went to Sunday School first, and then we went to the Masonic Temple.
CR: And was that part of the Alderwood Community Church?
CR: Before they built the church that’s there now. So they had, the Sunday School would be at the Masonic Temple, but before it was at the community hall. What other—Do you remember other kinds of activities that took place at the community hall or on the Demonstration Farm?
IT: I don’t remember too much about it. They had a shower for me there, that’s what I remember, a bunch of them did.
CR: A bridal shower?
CR: Oh, that was nice.
IT: I can’t think of anything else that actually took place there. Like I said, I left in ’35 and there might have been stuff there after I left, too; I really don’t know.
CR: Did—You left in ’35 and then came back later in your life. Were you amazed at how much has changed, or is there much—
IT: I can’t find anything now! [laughs]
CR: When you go to Heritage Park, though, does it spark a memory for you a little bit?
CR: The Cottage and the Wickers Store? Does that kind of—
IT: Yeah, I thought about it when I sat the other day, about what I’d done in the kitchen, the pie deal came back to me. [laughs] I don’t think I’ll ever forget that one.
CR: But, so do you think we’ve done a good job kind of trying to keep a little spark of Alderwood?
CR: And it’s pretty close to what you remember, but everything else around it, you don’t recognize. [laughs]
IT: Of course the Tutmarks lived quite a ways so they really didn’t [inaudible]—Margie Klein, I don’t know if you ever—Right down in the heart of Alderwood—Quigleys lived here, on this little [inaudible – “circle” ?] street, and the Kleins lived over there. And it originally was chicken houses, [inaudible – “some fellow” ?]. And then when Kleins took over, they used two of those for living quarters, and I don’t really remember what Mr. Klein did, and then they eventually built a house up at Lake Serene.
CR: Okay. Before we started today, and I told you I was a Stadler, and you started telling me a story about my uncle, Emil, about picking strawberries; can you share that with me again? That you picked strawberries at Hunters?
IT: Yeah, Hunters was in back of their house. I remember it like it was yesterday, picking strawberries there.
CR: And you said Emil would throw the rotten ones—
IT: Oh, yes. [laughs]
CR: Was that big sport for everybody, to throw berries, or—?
IT: Well, I don’t remember anybody else. It wasn’t a very big patch, I don’t think there was—between the Hunters themselves, and then the two of us, I don’t remember anybody else picking.
CR: And they paid you for that?
IT: I can’t remember that, either. [laughs] I’m sure we didn’t do it for nothing.
IT: And we picked cherries for Charlie Nelson. I don’t know if he picked cherries or not, I can’t remember too much about who else was picking.
CR: Where was Charlie Nelson’s at?
IT: Let’s see. Would it be up 44th and—What’s the other one?
CR: 196th? That goes—
IT: No, I mean going north. Forty-fourth and then over this way. It had a name—
CR: Spruce. There was North Trunk [Road] and then Spruce.
IT: Well, anyway, he lived up one of those streets. [laughs]
CR: Okay. I was curious, I wanted to ask you, too—Your dad had the trucks, obviously, but did you have a family car?
CR: Never had a family car?
IT: Because—When my dad—Evidently, when he was in the woods, he was crushed between two logs, and he had a scar about here, and a year or so before he died, liquor had just come in; I don’t know what year that was. Was it ’32, maybe? Something like that. Well, evidently, a clot had formed, and when it passed across his brain, he was in terrific pain so he would lay down, in the truck, and sometimes people would, you know, thought he was drunk, or something, that would be their first thought. Nowadays they would, but then, of course, they probably didn’t. And then when he’d come home he’d sit in his wicker rocker and he’d say “Don’t anybody come near and touch my head.” He’d holler it. And then it cleared. And then he wasn’t feeling too good, and the doctors didn’t seem to know what was wrong, and they thought maybe it was his gall bladder, or something. So operated on him, and the blood clot went over his brain and [snaps fingers] gone.
CR: So that kind of stemmed from a logging injury.
CR: Ah. So, back to my question—They didn’t have a car, but he did have the trucks, then, later on.
IT: So anyway, Gyldenfeldts, I ran down and told them first, because my mom had called and told me. She was staying with her sister. So I ran down and told them, and they said, “Tell Buster to come and get the car and take your mom home.” But soon after that, we got a car. But that was after we got rid of the trucks.
But I don’t know; Buster went and did some other work. I remember it was, like, in a foundry or something, because I remember it was such hard work, and it was so hard. Hot, he said. I don’t know what he was shoveling, something, or something, I don’t— I just remember that. And then he went—Helen’s, my sister-in-law, her dad was Lester Wilson and he was, worked for Yost, and so he got Buster on truck driving, I mean bus driving. So he drove Suburban for years and then he went into Seattle, the Metro [Metro transit system], and that was where he finished.
CR: Oh. What was Suburban? Was that a local bus?
IT: Yes. That went Edmonds and then it went out [inaudible – “old high school” ?], the other side of the lake, it had different routes. But Edmonds to Seattle was one of their main routes. But he worked for them for about two years.
CR: So, in closing here, is there anything else that we’ve left off? You’ve remembered a great amount of great stories.
IT: I told you about the chicken, how I get razzed every time it’s [inaudible].
CR: Yeah. The article you’re talking about, this was in, let’s see, October 14, 1934 [The Seattle Times], and it’s a picture of you, and you are holding—It says “Miss Ivy Kingsley is just as proud as the rest of Alderwood. Prize hen which laid 314 eggs in 354 days. A New York contest recently ended.” [from picture caption: Miss Ivy Kingsley is just as proud as the rest of Alderwood of “N Y 812,” prize hen which laid 314 eggs in a 354-day New York contest recently ended.]
IT: When The [Seattle] Times called, after they got the article in the paper—See, this chicken and— is in the Heritage book [Alderwood Manor (Images of America)] with a big—all the eggs, and I was afraid to turn the page in case my—
CR: Oh, in case your picture was in there! [laughs] And then the article says, “Alderwood hen ranks top in New York egg contest. Back to Alderwood last week went a native daughter who has made good in a big way in the big city. They’re thinking of crowing her Miss Alderwood. In the case of Miss Alderwood, making good means she laid 314 eggs in fifty-one weeks—the native daughter is a hen—and went ’way back to Farmingdale, Long Island, to do it.” And do you remember how you ended up with your picture in the paper with her?
IT: Oh, there was an article in The Times about the hen and the eggs. And so The Times called [Norm] Collins and asked if they could take a picture of it, so they asked if there was anybody that could hold it and I was working so I got to come out and do it.
CR: Well, you really earned your pay that day. [laughs] That’s a great picture, that’s a great picture. And do you think if I asked you to kind of, like, draw out how the floor plan of the cottage was back then, do you think you could do that? We could take some paper and pencil?
IT: I remember Collins’ bedroom, and the bath, and then the other room. But the kitchen, like I said, was [inaudible] because, like, one end was, like I said, the breakfast nook, and the table and four chairs. And then we—the stove was on the inside wall, and then the window over the sink.
IT: But that’s all I remember. I don’t think I could really do much as far as drawing it.
CR: Well it seems you can, you probably remember the kitchen probably vividly, that’s where you spent the time, making those pies, huh? [laughs]
IT: That was [laughs] the toughest job I ever had.
CR: Well, Ivy, I thank you for your time.
IT: Oh, thank you very much.
CR: This has been pleasant.
Transcribed by tv, September 2012