Change comes slowly, yet all too fast…
Ten houses border the east side of Territory Road between the old ‘S’ curve and Oysterville Road. Except for one or two of the newest ones, they all face Willapa Bay and beyond their front porches and gardens is a great swath of marshy meadowland. There, the grasses grow as tall as I am in the summer, sheltering nesting birds and providing food and cover for other tiny creatures seldom seen. In winter, the puddles and ponds left by the rains and high tides attract ducks and geese. Our chickens cluck at them and they quack and honk in return. And all year ’round the bear and deer and coyotes call the meadows their own.
Bear in the Meadow
Until recently, the meadows hadn’t changed much in a hundred years. Before that, though, when Oysterville was new and when the shoreline was a bit farther out, there were three more streets parallel to Territory Road (which was then called Fourth Street.) In front of our house at various times were a ball park, the Whealdon Slaughter House, the Loomis and Patterson Boat Shop and the residence of the Federspiel family. In front of the homes north of us were a saloon, the Methodist Church, the Pacific Journal building, another boat shop — and probably more. My grandfather, Charlie Nelson, Dewitt Stoner and Horace Wirt all remembered and told Charles Fitzpatrick so he could draw a composite map.
Some of the buildings may still have been there in my mother’s childhood, but by the time I came along they were all gone. The only difference between my memories of the meadows and what I see out my windows today are the fences. There aren’t any there now. When I was little, most of the meadows of Oysterville were edged with barbed wire. That’s because almost everyone had a horse or two — mostly for their kids.
Main Street/Boulevard
My grandfather still had one remaining workhorse from his farming days — Countess, who was often pastured in front of our house or in the meadow south of Holways’ place. Now… no kids, no farms, no horses, no fences. Even the last of the old fence posts are gone.
I notice, too that even the meadows, themselves, are disappearing. Three or four houses north of us, Main Street has been mowed to boulevard proportions for several blocks; as it has widened, the meadow has narrowed. And, from the southeast corner of Territory and Oysterville Roads and all the way to the shore line, a fence has gone up along the verge as the owners of the old Stoner place slowly incorporate the meadow into garden areas.
I know that change happens and we must make way for progress. But it saddens me that the character of the village as I have known if for so long is changing. Too, I’m always curious about why people are attracted to our little hamlet and then set out to make it different from the way they found it. It must have something to do with wanting to leave our mark. I console myself that in another hundred years it will all be different once again.
Hi Sidney. I too think it is sometimes best to leave the view natural, but property owners do have a right to do what they may, at least within the bounds of the Design Review Guidelines. I do wonder what the meadow in front of my house would have looked like if your parents had developed it as they envisioned. No view, I suppose. I know there was a plan to dump the sewage onto my property, so I am glad that did not transpire. I am glad the meadow wax preserved by ORF so that we can all enjoy it.
Hi Kevin,
I was just thinking of you last week as I gathered together bits and pieces of my correspondence with Jim Howell back in the 80s. His widow and the James Howell Foundation are putting together a monograph/book about his art legacy and had asked me for any “relics” I might have. I have no idea about the when of the publication, but will let you know when I find out — if you are interested.
Yes… Oysterville has gone through a lot of changes over the years and, I am sure will continue to do so. I think for most of us it’s hard to look back at what “was” and see how different it has become, no matter where we grew up or spent time when we were children. I guess it puts us too much in touch with our mortality.
I, too, am happy that ORF was able to figure out a way to establish the meadow across from you. Hopefully, with the current shoreline/wetland regulations, it won’t change much in the future. As for the “sewage dumped on your property” — you must mean an application for a septic system??? I don’t really know about that. All of us have septic systems one place or another; there isn’t much alternative these days without a Peninsula-wide sewer system. Unless maybe going back to the old outhouses. I’m not sure where the septic tank is for your cottage. Is it not on your property?
Sydney
There is still an easement on my property that Willard granted to have all the septic from the anticipated development across the street dumped into a large septic system on my property. I need to have that removed, but that was the idea.
Forgot to mention—I would be very interested in the Howell book. I have three of his peices—kne very large which I particularly enjoy.
“Dumped?” As in from a dump truck??? I can’t believe that was the intent or even a possibility. I remember when Carol Nordquist was trying to locate a spot for her septic system and the area around her house was too low. There was the suggestion that the septic be located across the street on higher ground and waste water would all be pumped under the road. I can’t remember if that’s what actually happened or if she was able to work something else out. It sounds like one of those “loose ends” that the Accaurdis or you could easily take care of — especially since there is no longer a possibilty of development across the street from you.
I’ll keep you informed as I learn more.
S.