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In 1915, many people still used candles as Christmas lights.
The following Power Outage Diary was found nailed to a splintered power pole on the South Hill: Day One: We stand at our back window and marvel at the most awesome display of nature’s power! Giant ponderosa pines are swaying dramatically in the 70-mile-per-hour gusts. The trees appear to be bowing down toward Mecca, or possibly Hillyard. Suddenly, with a mighty crack, one tree snaps off and crashes through our backyard power lines in a Fourth-of-July shower of sparks.
Jack Strube, described as a “saloon man” from Seattle, was walking across the Spokane River at the Trent Bridge with three young relatives.
Police chase “girl delinquent” through downtown Spokane after she lived as a hobo for a few days.
Spokane patriarch Michael M. Cowley died 100 years ago of pneumonia.
Bryn Stowe, 12, was walking home from Whittier School when a masked assailant jumped out of the bushes, thrust a revolver in her face, slapped a hand over her mouth and ordered her not to scream.
Louis Birklund, 25, on trial for robbing the Citizen’s Savings and Loan Bank in Spokane, had an unusual defense.
From our archives, 100 years ago E.K. Stedman, railroad clerk and devoted fisherman, wrote what he called an “idyll” of the tail end of the fishing season.
From our archives, 100 years ago The Hillyard city council authorized a “three-minute jitney” service between Hillyard and downtown Spokane.
From our archives, 100 years ago The Eagles’ “Mardi Gras Carnival,” the culmination of the big convention of the Fraternal Order of Eagles, created a “riot of confetti and costumes” on downtown streets.
From our archives, 100 years ago About 100 Italian army reservists were seen off by well-wishers at the Union Depot in Spokane. A band was on the platform to add to the festivities.
From our archives, 100 years ago Eddie Westrom and Roy Stovall, both 11, were playing on the banks of the Spokane River near Howard Street when suddenly, an apparition floated to the surface. It was a man’s body.
What, exactly, is the dreaded Organ Recital? It’s a monologue prompted by a seemingly innocent question – “So, what have you been up to lately?” – and it goes something like this:
Shakespeare, in his great “Seven Ages of Man” speech from “As You Like It,” leaves out an age, somewhere between the fat, smug fellow of late-middle age and the slippered pensioner of old age. He left out the Grandparent Age.
Every year, when December arrives, I dread the arrival of the Inland Northwest’s ugliest kind of winter weather. Snow? Of course not. Snow is white and cheerful.
If you ever go fly-fishing, I beg you to heed the following two bits of advice: 1. Purchase the finest high-traction wading shoes you can afford. 2. Actually wear them. What I'm trying to say is this: About a month ago, I left my excellent Simms wading boots in my car because, well, because I didn't think I would need them. Or, to put it another way, because I am an idiot. The result? My wing is in a sling.
For an intense two weeks during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962, a group of airmen working at underground nuclear missile sites near Spokane literally had their fingers on the buttons that could start a nuclear war. And now their stories are finally being told in “Secret Spokane – Center of the Cold War,” which opens at the Northwest Museum of Arts and Culture on Wednesday.
From our archives, 100 years ago For several days, police had been seeking Marie Taylor, 19, an Astoria, Ore., bride-to-be who disappeared on her way to Spokane to be married.
I have been conducting research into the differences between men and women when it comes to the viewing of baby photos. My conclusion? The contrast could not be more stark. As evidence, I present this rough transcription of what happens when a brand new baby photo is presented to a group of women: