Legends of Vashon By O.S. Van Olinda This account of a day’s shopping in 1878 is from the diary of a fifteen-year-old boy, whom I shall call Bill Jones. His real name is John Smith, but he might not wish that his identity be disclosed. Bill’s father was among the first settlers on Vashon Island,…
By Tripper Harrison We’re pretty safe from Bigfoot sightings here. Some Islanders have reported experiences around Western Washington, but I don’t know of an example on Vashon. If anybody saw a Bigfoot here, one of the first comments would be, “Did it take the North End or South End ferry? You know they can cut…
By Marc J. Elzenbeck As with many great ideas, it started with a Ford Bronco and a keg of beer. On a Friday night before the Strawberry Festival, several earth-movers and excavators were gathered around a job site after knocking off work. They happened to be parked near an old peat bog pond west of town,…
By Orin Edwards Growing up, my family kept chickens. Most everybody did in those days, it was considered normal. Just part of being here. Of course, you could also get store-bought eggs from up at the grocery. White for Easter, for dyeing and decorating. Mother could make them look like jewels. We kept our flock to…
By Tioga Webb Ever since I’ve been out on my own, most of my housing has been “informal.” There’s lots more places than you might think to bed down for the night. It isn’t always dry and comfy, but the price is right. And sometimes you see things. I wrote about my time down near…
By O.S. Van Olinda Some 13 years after the first settlement was made on Vashon, the summer of 1891 to be exact, J.E. Mace bought a 10-acre tract of wild land in what was then known as the “Vermontville settlement,” now the Glen Acres district. Thirteen years wasn’t really much time in those days, when…
As recounted to Tripper Harrison If there aren’t any wild boars running the trails on Vashon right now, there used to be. Hogs have gone feral a lot more recently than you would guess, and they are much the same thing. One of them was named Piglet B, and he was mine. Piglet B got…
By Jane Valencia This story began overseas in the mid-1990s, in mid-Wales. With an Ordnance Survey map in hand, a friend and I sought a cairn circle on farmland in the hills. Lovely views of secluded valleys dotted with sheep opened up to us, and we passed crags of jumbled stone. I finally spotted a…
By Arnold Swimmer We require two things to be published as a “Legend of Vashon.” It has to be set on Vashon. And it has to be a good yarn. Enjoy! I heard that, back on Vashon, people are talking about swimming the Colvos passage. That brings back memories! I didn’t swim on the Colvos…
As recounted to Tripper Harrison I’ll just dive right in here because that’s what I do. Mom always said to never go swimming for at least two hours after you eat, or you could seize up and drown. I generally tried to stick by her advice, but she never said anything about liquids doing the…