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Are you intolerant if you
don't tolerate intolerance?
Campaign speak 2000
We are delighted to inform our readers that
Professor Lindsey has finished his manuscript for
his upcoming book "Cornin' in over the Rock" (an
oral history of Cannon Beach) to be published this
summer by Saddle Mountain Press. For those who
missed his reading at City Hall a while back, we
thought we would give you as sample of what to
expect.
The natural charms of Cannon Beach
have made property in the environs a
valuable commodity from the earliest days of
settlement. Owners and agents recognized its
worth and sought to develop tracts of "sylvan
glades" and "fabulous ocean viewscapes." As
the prime oceanfront property dwindled,
phrases like "a peek of Haystack Rock" or
"near the beach" appeared in sales brochures
more frequently. Eddie Beers coined the term
"land maggots" in reference to our realty
contingent. Early survey lines meted out
parcels in hazy fashion. Current owners
evince surprise when they find their homes
located in city streets or their bedrooms
firmly planted in a neighbor's yard.
In a kinder world, a rigid code of ethics
would prevail. Kent Price and George Frisbee
operated real estate offices in the early
village. Stories circulated about Mr. Frisbee, a
shortish amiable gentleman, and what came
to be known as "Frisbee's Whale." When
George took prospective buyers to view a
piece of property close to the ocean, he liked
to impress them with the natural wonders
they could expect to see in the ocean adjacent
to the their property. A rock pinnacle sits
south and west of Haystack Rock. Waves
surge across this wash rock rising from the
ocean floor.
"And look!" Frisbee would point out for
clients, "we have whales in the ocean here
just offshore. You'll be able to see them from
your living room."
People began to call the wash rock
"Frisbee's Whale."
Dean Bonde sold real estate here for
several years during the Seventies. He liked
to tell this realty story when a collection of
locals gathered for a beer in the evening.
"I was a real estate agent here when
Oyala and Niemela drifted into town." (Jim
Oyala and Jim Niemela purchased business
property in Cannon Beach, including the
Ratskeller Tavern, Simon's Seashore
Restaurant, and adjacent property). "Oyala
came first, looking desperately for a place to
stay. I knew where a little cabin was
available. Small, mind you, and a bit drafty,
but cute. Had a real nice little quarter moon
window in the front door. A one room beach
cottage. Well, Oyala moved in. I drove by a
few days later. Saw a T.V. antenna stickin' out
of the roof. I stopped to say hello and see how
he was gettin' along. Oyala said he was real
cozy in there. Couple of days later I drove by
again. 1 saw two T.V. antennas stickin' out of
the roof. I knocked on the door. Oyala
answered my knock. 'Say, Jim,' I said, 'I was
just drivin' by and I noticed two T.V. antennas
on your roof. That seemed peculiar to me.'
'Oh,' he told me, 'I forgot to tel, you. I sub
leased the basement to Niemela.'"
I’d like to take an oblique glance at
those public servants, the police and
volunteer firemen, who maintained
community order and safety. Prior to the
early Fifties, if a ructious bar Fight, burglary,
or dead body disturbed the normal flow of
daily events, one contacted the County Sheriff
in Astoria or the Oregon State Police. Mac
McCoy, deputized and operating as de facto
constable, handled later disturbances of the
public good. A gentleman named Nick Rubin,
retired from a night-stick beat in Portland,
hired on as our first official city policeman in
the late '50's. He patrolled the township in an
enorm ous gunboat Mercury convertible,
circa 1957. With no police station, no formal
uniform, no radio, and no municipal judge, he
sculpted the few city ordinances to suit
himself. He periodically bullied a stray dog or
counselled an aged, unruly drunk. Nick, a
portly man of relaxed inclination, left the
heavy stuff to the sheriff. He mostly walked
and chatted up folks on Hemlock Street.
Following city incorporation, a move
necessitated by the need for a sewer system,
the city hired a mild, personable young man,
John West, as its first police chief. John
practiced his own gentle brand of police
discretion. He quickly won the community's
trust. John went by the book, but he
sometimes tore out a few pages if common
sense or compassion dictated leniency. John
had a keen sense of humor, a damn fine
quality in any peace officer. John recognized
the flawed and foibled nature of the human
animal, and cut some slack when necessary.
A few incidents should serve to illustrate his
modus operandi.
During one particularly harsh winter
in the mid '60's, the Hippie woodcutters in
town had been hard pressed to find stove
wood to heat the beach cabins they inhabited.
John received a complaint citing wood pile
theft. John knocked on Larry Pershin's door
in response. A nice veneer of snow lay on
the ground.
"Larry," John began, "your neighbor
claims you've been taking wood from his
wood pile."
"What makes him think I'd do that?"
"Now Larry," John continued, smiling a
wry grin, "come with me for a few minutes. I
want to show you something. You sure you
haven't been taking wood?"
"Oh, no."
John led Larry out into the yard. A
clear string of footprints engraved in the
snow led from Larry's cabin to the neighbor's
house.
"Uh, I guess I'll take some wood over to
him," Larry offered.
"Thanks, Larry. That's generous of you.
I guess this case is closed."
On another occasion, a bird was
discovered captive in a summer cottage. John
was out of town. An officer responded in his
absence, secured a key, and freed the
captured bird. The officer left a note for the
owner on a kitchen table.
John returned to duty. An angry,
hostile letter had been received from the
disgruntled homeowner, criticizing John and
the rude and foul-mouthed officer in his
departm ent. Bewildered, John confronted his
patrolm an.
"I let the bird out," he replied. "Then I
left a note. I can't imagine what's the
matter."
Girding himself up for the worst, John
visited the homeowner. She produced a
pencilled note, roughly scrawled on a sheet of
newsprint, as follows:
I LET THE LITTLE FLICKER OUT.
OFFICER----- .
The way the letters oozed together
explained the misunderstanding. John tried
unsuccessfully to placate the offended party.
I guess Police work has its downsides.
I
W A S H IN G T O N » O R E G O N C O A S T S
HIGH MARCH
DATE
DAY
DOTS'
GUDE
1 Wed •
2 Thur •
3 Fri •
4 Sat •
5 SUN •
6 Mon •
7 Tues •
8 Wed •
9 Thut •
lO f r i •
11 Sat •
12 SUN •
13 Mon•
14 lues *
15 Wed •
16 T h u r *
17 Fn •
18 Sat •
19 S U N *
20 Mon •
21 T u e s *
22 Wed •
23 Thur •
24 Fri •
25 Sat •
26 SUN •
27 Mon •
28 Tues •
29 Wed •
30 Thur •
31 Fn •
AM TIDES
UTE TYPE
TIME
8:36
9:31
10:20
1105
013
0:45
1:15
144
2:15
2:48
3:26
4:12
5:10
6:23
7:42
856
10:00
1056
11:47
031
1:07
140
2:11
2:41
3:12
3:47
4:31
5:30
6:44
7:58
5:01
AM
FT TX
7 7 10:19
7.9 11:02
8.2 11 39
8.4
7.8 1148
8.1 12:30
8.4 1:11
8.6 1:55
8.8 2:41
8.9 3:33
8.5 4:35
8.7 5:50
8.5 7:13
8.2 8:29
8.2 9:33
8.4 10:26
8.611:12
8.8 11:53
8.8
8.7 12:35
8.8 1:21
8.8 2:05
8.7 2:50
8.5 3:37
8.2 4:29
7.9 5:29
7.5 638
7.1 7:48
6.9 8:48
7.0 9:38
7.3 10:19
' BIGGER THE DOT
PM
FT
6.8
7.2
7.5
86
8.6
8.5
8.3
7.9
7.4
6.8
6.4
6.3
6.5
7.0
76
8.1
85
8.7
8.4
8.0
76
7.1
6.6
6.2
6.0
6.1
6.4
6.8
7.3
LOW MARCH
TX
2:44
3:43
434
5:19
6:01
6:40
7:19
7:58
8:39
9:24
10:16
11:20
0:19
1.44
3:01
406
5:02
5:52
6:39
7:23
8:04
8:45
9:26
10:09
10:58
11:58
AM
FT
35
3.3
2.9
2.5
2.1
1.7
1.3
0.9
0.6
0.5
0.5
0.5
3.2
3.3
2.9
2.3
1.6
1.1
0.6
0.3
0.2
0.3
0.4
0.7
09
1.2
1.01 37
2:14 3.4
3:16 3.0
PM
FT
3:58 0.6
4:43 0.3
5:22 0.0
5:58 -0.1
6:31 -0.1
7:02 0.0
7 34 0.2
8:06 0.5
8:40 1.0
9:19 1.5
10:05 2.2
11:03 2.8
12:36 0.6
1:55 0.4
3:06 0.0
4.05 -0.4
4:55 -0.6
5:40 -0.6
6:20 -0.4
6:58 -0.1
7:34 0.3
8:08 0.9
8:42 1.5
9:16 2.1
9:55 2.7
10:43 3.2
1146 3.6
1:07 1.3
2:14 1.1
3:11 0.9
3:59 0.6
BETTER THE FIS H IN G *
STANDARD T IM E
TX
PM TIDES
BOLD TYPE
Oh my. With spring training underway and the Cubs
under a new manager, hope is starting to 'spring eternal'
once again. New players and veterans are trying to
become that one thing that wins baseball games, a
baseball team. We here at the Edge are delighted to
Anally be available in 'real' paper form to our friends in
Chicago, thanks to a sports writer to be named later We
wish we could be there in person this season. So, pick
up an Edge at various taverns and bookstores near
Wrigley, and read the only paper in America with a
sports section which has covered nothing but the Cubs
for eight years. And a note to the residents of Waverly
Avenue, board up your windows!! Slammin' Sammy and
Mighty Mark will be joined by Jr. this year in trying to
break some glass as they clear the ivy of the friendly
confines. Go. Cubbies’!
"Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis. "
- Ralph W aldo Emerson (1803-1882)
UPPER. LEFT E&GE MARCH 2000
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