I had a somewhat oddball upbringing (huge understatement) – but in a good way. And in 1974, my mother and father (in their late 20s at the time), together with my mid-20s Uncle John and Aunt Lulu sold much of what each young family owned and loaded up their VW buses, left sunny SoCal, and headed off en masse for life unknown in the Pacific Northwest.
My parents had three children – my younger brother ( age 4 at the time), my sister ( age 6) and me (age 7). My Uncle John and Aunt Lulu were parents to my cousin James, then age 4. Uncle John and Auntie Lou went on to give birth to my youngest cousin, Thomas about 18 months later, while we were all living in Washington State.
The 2 or 3 years (Mama, can you clarify?) that we spent doing the 70s back-to-nature homesteading thang in the rainiest county in America, which also happened to be the #1 Sasquatch sighting county in the country, on the edge of the Quinault Indian Nation were so bizarro in so many ways that I honestly couldn’t make it up. Example: Kurt Cobain was in my 3rd grade class (yes, really). I spent all of third and fourth grades petrified that Bigfoot was going to come in my bedroom window in the dead of night and snatchy me or my little sister.
I remember that entire period of my life in sepia tones or black and white. Maybe there was color, but I honestly don’t recall any. The photos we have from that time in our lives seem to corroborate my belief that I spent more than two years of my childhood living in a world of gray scale and monochrome. It was a huge contrast from the technicolor early childhood I’d lived previously, in a cute beach town outside of L.A.
To wit:
Our farm
My parents (that’s Hank standing at the head of the table), and my Uncle John and Aunt Lulu, plus Uncle Roger and Aunt Delphia. Thanksgiving 1975 maybe?
James (front and center, a rockstar even then) with Betsy and me striking a pose on either side of him.
We were poor, very poor. My father had left his quite promising job as an up and coming young news reporter with KFWB in Los Angeles to do full time freelance writing from our ramshackle farmhouse in the wilds of Gray’s Harbor, Washington.. Some of his more memorable article sales during that period were a story titled “Mastering the Lowly Hoe” for Organic Gardening, and “Perry Como Tells You How to Relax” for the National Enquirer. My mother – also a writer – kicked in as much freelance work as she could during that period, including a fantastic interview with Ken Kesey.
My Uncle John also did some freelancing while we lived in Washington State, including penning what I am told is still the lowest selling Rolling Stone cover story of all time. The topic: Pat Boone (a close friend of my grandmother’s)
Uncle John’s Rolling Stone cover piece on Pat Boone
Another way that Uncle John brought in some cash was by playing guitar and singing live in the bars of Montesano, Olympia and Chehalis. His stage name was “Stark Naked,” because he hoped that this eye-catching name would lead the depressed, alcoholic loggers who were the main clientele for these venues to at least pop their heads in and have a beer or two.
I’ll have to ask him if it worked.
Here he is, my Uncle John, around age 25, standing in front of one of the spots where he played. It looks to me like his show “poster” was made out of a brown paper grocery bag.
STARK NAKED FOREVER!
Addendum from my mother regarding the bar in front of which Uncle John is standing in this picture: “Your daddy and I toyed with the idea of buying the bar. Louise was pushing us to do it because she wanted to wear fishnet stockings and work in it. There was a lovely apartment upstairs. Lovely.”
34 Responses to “Stark Naked forever!”
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As someone currently living in rainy, dreary Washington state, I can bet that your memories lack color because the winter really does lack color. Gray sky, gray water, gray roads, gray cars, fuzzy washed out colors of everything under the fog.
I need to move somewhere with COLOR!
I have seen some of those photos but John as STARK NAKED !!! thats a scream!
We grew, slaughtered, canned, got from the nest and froze almost all of our food. I made “earth bread” and sold it at the Pink Potato and also traded veterinary services for eggs and my bread. We also got our Jersey milk in big glass jugs from Dr. Mustard and then would make butter in the churn when the cream rose to the top. Robert and James were only 3 when we packed up and left. You neglected to mention that none of us had a house and we lived in campgrounds for several months. We were in one campground when we were told by a ranger to be careful because some nutcase had lured a young woman by pretending to have a broken arm. Ted Bundy, it turned out. One time, after we bought the farm, including the house with 27 broken windows covered with plywood, your daddy told our neighbor Howard that he wanted a fishing boat. Howard called all excited one night and said he had found the perfect boat down the road. Your daddy asked Howard how much they wanted for the boat and Howard responded, “It ain’t for sale. We’re gonna steal it.”
Oh, and we declined Howard’s offer/suggestion. I worked for a pittance during that period for Timberland Regional Library System and commuted in the VW bus to Lacey. I had to lean forward to go over a small mountain on the 45 mile trip each way.
Your mom should write a book about that time, Katie! To someone who grew up in a small town in Indiana with a stereotypical family and upbringing, this is all fascinating to me. Thanks for sharing the stories and pictures.
Really cool story. I was a little worried, after the title…but totally cool! Is that the same area of Washington where the “Twilight” stories are based?
I don’t really live too far from there although I am over in Idaho. Love WA state. In fact, I think we were discussing “ideal climate” tonight (probably triggered by a heated family talk about the ideal temperature inside a moving vehicle) and I said that WA state is probably my ideal weather. No doubt I stand in the minority of people.
Anything to avoid hot, hot, hot and cold, cold, cold.
Awesome story. And the Stark Naked thing made me laugh and laugh.
Great stories, Katie and Sue … tell us more! Who would guess your lives would cross paths with Kurt Cobain AND Ted Bundy?! So did Aunt Del move all over with you too? How, why, and when did you move to BB?
I agree with Elizabeth H. more, more! You sure do come from sturdy, adventurous stock!
That’s so interesting! (I live in Seattle and love the climate.) Did you know that the whole Sasquatch thing was a hoax and that a guy finally admitted to it on his death bed? He concocted these huge bigfoot feet and used to walk around to leave tracks . . . he he. I hope you write a book about your childhood and your family some day. I’m especially fascinated by your grandmother and her journalism career, knowing Elvis etc. Fascinating! PS: I see Charlotte in your young face.
PPS: Stark Naked would be a great book title!
My husband was born in Chehalis, as was his mom. I’ll have to ask her if she ever went to see “Stark Naked.”
Is it sad that this post made me think of Twilight? (Please don’t judge me – I’m sure it’s just because you evoked the same transition from the sunny south to the rainy northwestern forest.) And so very amazing that you & Kurt Cobain learned to multiply together (or whatever you learn in 3rd grade – all I remember was reading the Trumpet of the Swan). Anyway, very neat post!
What a wonderful family and tale. I am so envious of your wild life.
And 36 years later, there’s a Naked Cowboy making a fortune playing guitar in his underwear in Times Square! I guess it’s true what they say about “location, location, location!”
Totally interesting post. Kurt Cobain, really? Crazy! Sounds like it was a memorable time in your life, whether in black and white or color. Thank you for sharing.
Okay, okay, okay. I did an “oh, that’s cool…” at the Kurt Cobain connection and chortled at the bigfoot bit…but holy crap KEN KESEY? HUNG OUT WITH HIS FAMILY? Pardon my language but ROCK AND F*CK’N ROLL.
What a great story! You and your mom really should put all of this in a book, preferably with photos. And I second the request for the story of how you ended up in Bell Buckle!
Your mom needs to be your guest blogger and share MORE with us!
My mother was from Middle Tennessee and always wanted to retire there, so they did (in their 50s). My mother continued to do a lot of freelance writing, tapping into the country music scene in Nashville for fodder. We really got tired of having mold and mildew grow on our heads every time we stood still for a few minutes, so we sold our place in Montesano, WA, bought a farmette near Bell Buckle sight unseen, packed up and moved. John and Louise came a short time later and then brother Roger and his family. I learned later from Katie and Betsy that they used to take their ponies upstairs while we were at work. The first time we let Katie spend the night alone at the farmette, she came home from some event and thought there were burglars in the house for some reason. She got our good friend and neighbor, Betty Sain, and her man to come over, which they did, armed with many weapons. They raced upstairs like the posse and screamed, “Oh my gosh. Someone has ransacked the place.” Katie came up, looked puzzled and explained that it looked like it always did. That part of the house belonged to Katie, Betsy and Robert exclusively – and whatever animals they had up there.
Falling about laughing, as they say in the UK. Reminds me of a cousin from Long Island who was homesteading at the same time, with his wife, small kids and an entourage, in a remote area of West Virginia. They bartered for everything and lived in an abandoned schoolhouse with no plumbing. Like your parents, they later moved back to civilization (but still in the country) because they were alarmed at the teenage pregnancies and dropout rates among their friends’ children, but have never totally put their alternative past behind them.
I think I’m getting more of an idea where you get the attachment parenting and lactivist interests…de-corporatized child rearing was among the many passionate interests of the young families who chose the back to the land movement.
I wonder if any reading are from the era of the “back to the landers” settling in north of Cookeville (Jackson Co., Clay Co.–some of the most rural and definitely THE most beautiful area of TN–but don’t tell anyone, wanna keep it that way!) in the 60′s thru late 70′s? My wife and I bought 75 acres in Jackson Co. for $10,000, built a cabin for $1500–11 miles down a dirt road, 1/4 mile off that dirt road–nearest neighbor slightly more than a mile away….delivered 2 kids at home–draft animals– crops & canning & drying & bottling–those were the days–unfortunately, they ended—all the new yorkers who came believin’ “back to the land” was mostly illegal smiles, skinnydippin’ and softball games (all wonderful endeavours) headed back north eventually when the realization hit that there would be some work involved in order to survive.
For those interested in that era, a most wonderful read is “Saturday Beans & Sunday Suppers” by Edie Clark (author of several great books), a wonderful writer still on a farm in New Hampshire. She describes the era ending in the mid-70s like “someone hitting the off button, suddenly it was all gone”….so true….I retire soon & will give it a second go round!
This is already sounding like a book! BTW, you look very much like the blonde lady with the pigtails. I’d love to hear more!
Ted Bundy, Kurt Cobain *and* sasquatches… what hidden depths of cool Katie!! We’ve got to hear more about your childhood, and more from your mom.
Hey, but me too I went to grade 3 with a pop star, albeit a minor (Canadian) one… one day I was watching tv, and wham, I saw the grown up version of my friend Jacques Gaines. I remember he used to make a fashion statement by wearing these tight striped jeans, which I never saw on anyone else. Man, I miss the ’70s. I had just moved to Quebec City from Buffalo, and he was the only biracial kid in town then I think… He was a sweet kid.
He has a lovely voice…
Here he is with his band, Soul Attorneys…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z75ZxQyMKds
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2MSk2009Qo4
And solo
http://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/jacques-gaines/id253425120
katie, these stories are priceless. i joke with my husband about trying to see what my horse would do if i tried to bring him into the house….i had to send this to him to show him that i am NOT crazy and that there are people that HAVE brought their ponies into the house
honestly – why WOULDN’T you want your pony in the house with you when you’re hanging out reading a book?? i know i would want him hanging out with me!!!
Going to read that book. For those who remember that period fondly, do you also remember “Living Off the Earth” and “Whole Earth Catalog?” They were my survival Bibles in Washington. I learned to take care of us with what we had.
loved this, KAG. made my day. kurt cobain, huh?
I love this post! Those were the days, my friend…….
A little bit later, my parents did something similar, in Eastern Washington state. We moved to a plot of land 7 miles up a dirt road in one of the least populated counties in WA, where my parents finished the house. Ahhh, 77. Those were the days, in pictures.
Your story is FANTASTIC. Partially b/c I lived it too.
Thanks for adding the other details in, Mama/Nanny.
Nice to know that others did the same thing as my parents did!
Henry was born with a hippie soul, wasn’t he. Why are we so hard on kids like that? We were then, too, but there were also some safer places to run away to, and a gentler drug scene (in some ways, not for all, I know). Thank you, Katie, for this delightful post and one that hints, I hope, that you are feeling the tiniest bit less heavy-hearted?
I also understand something you dad about your dad better now — I was puzzled that he thought you could do anything including get published in the New Yorker before college (my parents, NYers born and bred, were so much less optimistic, but also of a different generation). Given his own experiences, he was a believer that if you put your back into something, you could get it done. Got it now.
Loved this story! And many thanks to mom/nanny for adding to it.
From,
Someone who lives in that area!
Loved this!
I love this story. Also, see Jane totally in your 7 yr old picture.