Murray left UW immediately after his
last exam, not waiting to pick up his diploma. He had achieved that Depression-era rarity, a paying job in his field, right out of college. He moved into a hotel
in Hoquiam and went to work for the Grays
Harbor Washingtonian, known to most as the
Washie. He and another UW journalism graduate, Pete Antoncich, comprised
most of the news staff and each routinely churned out a dozen stories a day. Rosa was home in Tacoma after her freshman year at UW, picking up work as a family helper and hospital aide .
June 16, 1937
One of the troubles with this job is that with all the writing I have to do, I never get a chance to write.
Monday was one of those days, for me. It was marked by an after-convention let-down in me and in the town as far as news and news-writing went. I just couldn’t seem to find anything of any interest whatsoever. Pete was also working on the beat and he seemed to get everyplace that there was any news just a few minutes ahead of me. I was pretty disgusted.
I came up with 13 stories, all of them quite unimportant except for an interview with the city engineer on some paving projects. None of them rated the front page.
Yesterday, however I went out for features. I found out quite a bit of stuff about how the city library is run, palled around with the assistant librarian for a while and finally got her to give me the annual librarian’s report. It was the first time that it had been made public. It was a pretty good story. My stuff made the front page three times, and I had just about everything that was written locally. Besides that, I turned in several stories that are being held over because the paper was too tight yesterday. So I’m happy again.
My hours are somewhat like those I kept on the Daily, but now that the convention is over there isn’t nearly as much work to doing this as there was to putting out the paper at school.
I get up around 12, eat brunch at the Women’s Exchange, and then loaf (theoretically) till a little after three when I start out on my beat. (Actually, I’ve been going to work around 1 so as not to take any chances of missing anything because of my inexperience, but today’s the day I’m starting to wait before beginning work).
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| Hoquiam in the '30s -- credit: HistoryLink.org |
I report at the office around six o’clock and check over the Aberdeen World for stories I missed and for rewrite material. Then I eat dinner.
After dinner I start writing my stuff and anything new that comes over the phone. This takes just about all evening. I’m pretty well mopped up with my work by 11:30. Then I wait till a little after twelve, check at the police station for late news and head down here to the hotel.
Before going to bed, I check through my notebook to see what tips I have for the next day, and I type them out onto a sheet of notebook paper (the little pocket book, not the big one). Since it’s pretty late to use even a silent typewriter in a hotel, I usually hit the hay then and read for a little while before going to sleep.
Yesterday, Pete, who is the sports editor, made up the sport page for the first time down here. George, the city editor, has been doing that. If Pete is to continue making up the sports as I believe he is, it means that I will do almost all over the local news work instead of sharing some of the work with him. It won’t make any difference on the number of hours that I spend at the office however, but will just mean that I will have to type a little faster to get done in time.
From work to play is always an easy jump, but if the weather keeps up as it is, I don’t know when I’m ever going to get the chance to play. You see, it has been raining. And how! And all the time! And wet rain! So I haven’t played any tennis, or done nothing, notsoever, nohow.
Well, sweet, I just don’t feel up to doing any more on this right now, and it will be after delivery and pickup time if I wait till I get another chance, so I’ll call this one off.
Be a good kid, sweet, and keep right on loving me and my dog. How is our little Beeg Mike getting along? I’ll write later (probably Friday) and let you know where I’ll be able to get home this weekend or not.
All my love,
Forever,
Murray
June 18, 1937
Dearest Rosa,
I’m so glad that Big Mike is devilish enough to take my place satisfactorily – but I’ll bet that he hasn’t got my imagination. However, that idea about chewing on your bare feet does have possibilities.
...
Yesterday was one of my best days as far as getting stories went. There was nothing even remotely important from a financial or political angle, but I picked up 20 stories during the day, an all time high for me. Furthermore, I remembered to get a long story on the local boy scouts leaving for the national jamboree and it scored a clean beat on The World. Little things like that make you feel good, and especially good when the scouts are due to leave from Aberdeen, the World’s home bulwark, and when the scout office which I phoned for my information is less than a block from the World office.
In about twenty minutes, I have to leave for the Emerson Hotel to cover the chamber of commerce luncheon. That is the sort of stuff that gripes me. I’d never join a luncheon club if I could help it, and now I have to attend them and furthermore, do what no one else bothers to do: listen to the speeches. Last time it was manganese; this time the Lord only knows what! At the Kiwanis club luncheon it was tuberculosis.
I don’t know if I told you last week-end about buying a new trench coat, but it’s sure a lucky thing for me that I did. There hasn’t been a dry day down here this week, although it’s finally showing signs of clearing up some today. I’ve wandered around well-swathed in water-proof all week. So far, I haven’t even gotten in the Ford since arriving Monday. I’m darned if I intend to use my own gas for covering the beat, and so far I haven’t had time (or the weather) to take the trip down to the ocean or anything. Besides, the weatherman seems to have been bringing the ocean to Hoquiam. ...
June 23, 1937
Loomis Hotel
Hoquiam, Wash.
Dearest Rosa,
... I don’t know if you have heard about our carnival fight or not. The Hoquiam city council last year passed an ordinance against having carnivals in the city. There had been too many complaints because of gyp games and pick pockets at a Fourth of July show last year.
Then about six weeks ago they voted on whether to repeal the carnival ordinance or not. The vote was 7 to 6 with Mayor Reuben Sandstrom casting the vote that broke the tie.
About four weeks ago it was suggested that the Eagles bring a carnival to town during their convention and the city council gave its tentative approval (not in the regular meeting, but in the “dog house” session in which Hoquiam councilmen decide their actions that will be taken on the chamber floor.)
As things turned out it was impossible for the carnival to get to Hoquiam during the convention, so the Eagles sponsored it for two weeks later. This sponsorship they concealed under the name of “The Citizen’s League.”
The carnival agreed to pay the city $150 license fee, and to come under the name of “The Douglas Arabian Circus.” This circus billing was the loophole in the old law, for there was no ordinance against a circus.
It was, of course, pretty obvious what was going on, despite the fact that all carnival business was kept from the floor of the council chamber. Pete guessed it, and when he started to ask the mayor for some details about the “circus” he was told to lay off the subject entirely. So both Pete and I jumped in with both feet.
All last week we rode the poor councilmen right into the ground. They really took quite a beating: and they didn’t dare stick out their necks to answer because they would thus admit sponsoring the illegal show. As long as they kept quiet and took the punishment there would be no record as to which men had voted for the carnival when it came up in the dog house.
Well, last week the council had a session as usual. Since it was the first day of the carnival there was quite a bit of tension and some of the local citizens were in the chamber just to see if anything about the ordinance would come up. But the councilmen had talked it over in the dog house and agreed not to say anything about it till next week.
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| The Sundborgs and their children, 10 years later |
What made the situation especially funny was that show is set up right behind the city hall, and all during the meeting the calliope ground out music so loud it was hard to hear Ola read the minutes. Things went pretty well for the councilmen at that, though, until the unexpected happened. Mary Baker (a friend of the city editor’s) filed a protest of the council’s action in breaking its own law. [Mary married the city editor, George Sundborg, soon after] She went on to say that since the council had placed itself in a position where it could not afford to turn down any fraternal order which wanted to sponsor a show, she would appreciate it if any future shows were kept away from the open space in front of her yard.
I almost laughed out loud at the looks of the councilmen when that petition was read. They were just a bunch of little boys who had been caught in the jam jar and were getting scolded right out in front of everybody, including company. It was really funny.
But, although the carnival has been allowed to come for the week, so far God has been on our side. It has just poured for the last two nights of the show, and the carnival has had to shut down way early each night for lack of patrons.
Pete, in usual style, wrote a joke story which he put on the bulletin board yesterday:
“Jehovah gave a stinging rebuke to the Hoquiam chamber of councilmen yesterday. He massed the storm clouds and washed the Douglas Arabian Circus right off the tennis courts on which they now stand. Praise the Lord….”
In the meantime, I talked the boss into giving me passes to the show the other night and went over and wrote a most uncomplimentary review of the whole thing—a circus sans snakes, sans elephants, sans everything except 5 colts, 1 bull and 29 horses (28 of them on the merry-go-round).
The snake show would have interested you, though. There were 6 lizards, and the Hindu Mystic who handled them (he told me his real name was Charles Wilson, alias Yaki Joe) told me that the little fellows are absolutely harmless and only cost ten cents each--but you can only buy them in Texas. I tried to talk him into selling me one, but it was no go.
Except for the carnival, this town is deader than anything as far as news goes. I don’t know what I’m going to write stories about in the next few weeks. Nothing is doing or is promising to be doing. I guess I’ll have to use my imagination. ...
Love as ever,
MurrayJuly 7, Wednesday
Dearest Rosa,
Things are quiet down here in Hoquiam now that the Fourth celebrations are over. It’s a sunshiny morning and I’m sitting in the hotel room listening to the American League all-stars pummel the National All Stars with our New York Yankees in the leading role. Joe Dimaggio and Lou Gehrig pounded the ball all over the lot in the innings I’ve heard so far and with just a little way to go the score is 8-3--you will admit not reading the sport pages will you? well, you’ll get em in letters again. So there.
The last two days we’ve put out 6 page papers, but they’ve kept me pretty busy. Monday we didn’t start till late, so it was around two o’clock before I was through. Yesterday I had 18 stories in the six pages, so you can see that I worked. Having no carnival to rant about and no Otto Case to libel, I ran a story which with probably get me thrown out of the WPA office next time I go in. That city council had quite a session last night about the way the WPA is not cooperating and I ran the whole story long. Then, just to make me feel a little unhappy, George sent me down to cover a Townsend meeting. ...
Today I have about twenty stories to do and I don’t feel like walking around the city. It feels a little too warm. The main trouble with Hoquiam sunshine is that the air is so moist that a person gets sticky with just a little exercise.
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