IDA-HOST

Orofino, Idaho from the Gilbert Grade

Some years ago I participated in the Ida-Host program, a workshop to awaken employers (and others) to the economic impact of tourism on the community. Statistics were presented showing that the longer a tourist stays in the community, the more he spends. If he spends the night, you have vastly increased the amount of money he will leave behind. Tourism dollars improve the over-all economy of the community and that's good for all of us – not just the business owners. I had never thought of that before. I was impressed.

Actually, the people with the greatest opportunity to influence the tourist are front-line employees – clerks, cashiers, etc. – at places like grocery and convenience stores, specialty shops, museums, etc. Unfortunately, these are the workers who are also at the lowest pay grade and mostly disinterested. On the other hand, anyone can do it. Here's an example:

My friend Chris told me about the quilt shop in downtown Orofino, our hometown, and mentioned it would be worth my while to check it out – some different things. "It's called The Wild Hare and it's where the Style Shop used to be." (Does that date us or what?) So, when Hallie was here last week, we turned off Highway 12 and drove across the bridge into Orofino on our way back to the Lewis-Clark Valley. We arrived at the shop at 9:20 so had 10 minutes to wait for the shop to open. (The storekeeper later told us she would have opened if we had knocked. Small towns – so great!) Anyway, Hallie and I walked up one side of the street and down the other while we waited, and as we were contemplating the Mexican Restaurant where Oud's Hardware used to be, a woman walking by, a stranger to us, said, "Best food in town." After a brief exchange with her, she again reiterated – "Best food in town."

Kathy at the Mexican Restaurant

"Great!" said Mike when I told him. "I'll take you there for your birthday dinner." And so that's what we did last night – a first for us to leave the farm for any form of town entertainment. Leaving Nellie in the farmhouse, we headed down the steep and winding narrow Gilbert Grade to Orofino and had dinner at the Mexican Restaurant. We aren't people who rave about food, but we thought our entrees were delicious. Not only was the food good, but we were served promptly and courteously and the price was reasonable. We were impressed by the efficiency of the wait staff – five people working the floor and anticipating the needs of the diners. "Yancey would like this place," said Mike. (And that's because Yancey and family have taken us to Mexican restaurants in Denver.) I was thinking that Hallie and Nick would like it. We agreed we would make the effort to go again and take guests. And all because Chris told me about the quilt shop and a stranger recommended the Mexican Restaurant.

So, our recommendations have far-reaching effects. "Word of mouth" is powerful if we use it. Perhaps it's not so important in metropolitan areas where tourists come knowing what they want to see and do, but it's certainly important in smaller communities where attractions are not so obvious or well-known.

ONCE UPON A HOT AUGUST NIGHT . . .

Kathy Vann's third birthday -- August 28, 1952

I have shared my birthday cake with friends and family many times over the years. I would hate to say any celebration is more memorable than another, though last year's celebration in Seattle at Hallie and Nick's wedding ranks right up there. But today I find myself thinking of how in my adult years my parents would show up most every year with a cake and a small gift, and now that they're gone, those memories are very precious. On one such occasion in the early years of my married life, as we were finishing our cake and ice cream, Mike said, "Tell us about the night she was born."

Mother and Daddy chuckled in unison and began to tell the tale of one hot August night in 1949, essentially as I'll tell it to you:

It was late the evening of August 27 and Mother was in labor. So, Mother and Daddy climbed into their 1949 midnight blue Ford sedan and drove all of four blocks to the Orofino Hospital . . . except that my dad didn't stop at the hospital. Instead he headed on down Michigan Avenue and over the bridge that spans the Clearwater River. "Where are you going?" Mother demanded.

"It's such a nice night I thought we'd take a little drive," my dad replied. "The baby won't be here for hours."

"You turn right around and take me to the hospital," Mother commanded.

Dorothy holding Kathy, Oct. 1949

Yes, my dad complied, and back they went to the hospital, where they roused the nurse on duty.

Now, the old Orofino Hospital was a wood-frame, two-story building painted a very dark brown which housed not only the hospital but the doctor's office. The delivery room was on the second floor. You might think that's not a big deal, but there was no elevator. A woman in labor was forced to climb the stairs to the second floor. Of course, my mother was not an exception. My dad was left behind in the first-floor waiting room. In those days, delivery was between a woman and the medical staff. Fathers were made to wait.

"Now," said the nurse upon prepping my mother, "it's going to be a long time before the baby comes and I'm going back to bed. Should you need me, lightly tap this buzzer. Do not turn it on because it rings loudly throughout the hospital. That would be unnecessary. Just tap it and I'll come." And my mother was left to battle the labor pains alone.

"But I delivered all my babies quickly," Mother said. "Once dilation started, the baby came."

Vance with Kathy, Oct. 1949

Sure enough. Before long, Mother knew the birth was imminent. Did she tap the buzzer lightly? No! She turned it on and let it ring – loud as it was.

"Did you hear it?" we asked my dad. "Oh yes!" he laughed. "Everybody in the hospital heard it."

That's mostly the end of the story except that in his excitement, my dad decided that Grandma and Grandpa Portfors, Mother's parents, need to know about the new baby girl right away. No, the news couldn't wait until they were awake and eating breakfast. So, he went to their house – between our house and the hospital – and when he couldn't rouse the dear old folks, he climbed through their bedroom window. I always wondered what comments my grandparents made to each other about that.

Cost of new baby delivered at Orofino Hospital in 1949: $100. Price included doctor's fee for pre- and post-natal appointments and 7-day hospital stay for mother and baby.

Well, it's not hot this year. The high today here at Gilbert will be about 60.  
[On the back of the picture of my mother and me, my dad wrote: "Mother -- This is very good." Evidently he gave it to Grandma Ina. And it's the only copy of that photo I have. In that same photo, look at the bottom right corner. See Vance's shadow?]

CELEBRATE – CELEBRATE – CELEBRATE

My best childhood friend and pal, Chris, now lives not far from me in Moscow – about 30 miles north when we're in town but farther when we're on the farm. We were both born at the old hospital in Orofino, Idaho, where women in labor were required to pass an initial test – climbing the stairs to the second floor. It was scorchingly hot that August of 1949, I heard tell. Chris made her appearance first and is 24 days older than I. Therefore, I have the privilege of observing how she handles landmark birthdays before I pass the portal. She says she's very happily 60 and reports that she's making a great adjustment to retired life. When she told me about her birthday celebration this year, she described several events, including shopping and a small family gathering in her honor. It evoked poignant memories for me when she said her mother came with a cake. But the point was that she enjoyed spreading out the celebration, and this year that happened for me, too.
Hallie wrote last May and asked what I would think if she and Nick set a wedding date of August 29. "Your wedding anniversary will forever be the day after your mother's birthday," I wrote back. She said she didn't mind that – and this year the family would be together. Things have a way of working out for the best, and a few weeks after that conversation I was relieved that they had chosen that August date when reunions in Mississippi were scheduled on the July weekend she had been considering. (I allow myself a little joke -- It was good that Mike could be at Hallie's wedding.)
My first birthday celebration occurred when we took the Bernina (last year's birthday present) to the shop for its one-year service and also bought the embroidery module. I told Mike he could call it my birthday present if he wanted to, but the reason I have it is that he bought a motorcycle. I am excited for the opportunity to learn about machine embroidery. I hope it's not too frustrating.

Then, the night of the rehearsal dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Seattle, which was my true birthday, the staff sang "happy birthday" to me and presented me with a chocolate sundae. That was the first our daughters-in-law knew it was my birthday, and they suggested Sunday brunch in my honor. So, we went to Endolyne Joe's in West Seattle (as in end of the trolley car line – now defunct) and enjoyed another meal together. Hallie and Nick were still in town and joined us there. The family gave me just the greatest gift -- gift certificates to Jo-Ann's Fabrics. I'll probably spend it all in one trip to the store by buying thread, but it will be fun. KW

[Photo 1 is of Mike with Kelly and Emmy; photo 2 is Kathy at the Mexican restaurant; photo 3 is the family brunch with Yancey and Kelly in the foreground and Kathy at the far end of the table.]