A Pilcher Family History

My mother was the fourth and youngest child of Carl Arthur Pilcher and Floy Elizabeth (Williams) Pilcher. Life was not easy for her. She grew up during the Depression and her family knew its share of hardships. Her earliest memories were of living in Kansas. Grandma ran a store, and Grandpa turned the crank on the films that were shown in the theater next door. Mom recalls trying to read the words that flashed across the screen, but her reading skills weren't good enough yet to allow her to keep up. Usually she would wake the next morning in her bed, unaware of how she got there.

Grandpa traveled in search of work, and for a time worked on a shrimp boat in the gulf of Texas. Eventually he came to the Pacific Northwest and sent for his family. They initially stayed at the Fir Grove Auto Park until grandpa could build a home for his family. Their first home in Marysville, which Grandpa built, was a log cabin just beyond Strand's Boulevard grocery on Sunnyside Boulevard between 3rd and 4th street. They lived there for a year, and when mom was five (1927) they moved near Port Townsend, Washington, where mom grew up.

The first home on the peninsula was at Glen Cove. Grandma Pilcher bought property there and grandpa built a three bedroom home for the family. Grandpa later built homes at Glen Cove for Dale Williams, Grandma's brother, who had come west from Kansas, and also a home for mom's brother, Larry. The final home built at Glen cove was a second home for his own family...another three bedroom home, this time with indoor plumbing.

During the Depression while living at Glen Cove grandma kept about 500 rabbits. They had a dog named Ginger, and each time one of the rabbits had babies Ginger would come scratching at the back door for grandma. Ginger would then take grandma right to the hutch where the new babies were born! Often grandma would name the rabbits. One pair in particular were special to grandma, and she named them Rosie and Rudolph. Grandma bought the big house in Port Townsend while Mary was still in school. Grandma turned the large home into a boarding house and ran it as well as an optical business. (Both of my grandparents were licensed opticians, and had been since they lived in Kansas.)

My mother's father, *Carl Arthur Pilcher, was born on the 20th of June, 1884 in Courtland, Republic Co., Kansas to *James Henry Pilcher and Mary Alice Clute. James Henry Pilcher was the son of *Nathan Selby Pilcher and Mary Ann Swisher. Grandpa worked in the lumber mill in Port Townsend until he was around 40 years of age. At that time he decided to retire.

Grandpa Pilcher was a small man, about five feet tall, with a fringe of hair around the back of his head. He had a "wayward" eye, which used to be referred to as "cockeyed". My memories are of him at home doing the cooking, tending his garden, and his chickens. There was a bureau in the kitchen which contained hardened marshmallows, black licorice, and horehound candy. To this day I prefer my marshmallows and black licorice both hard and stale! I have a lot of fond memories of my mother's parents. Grandpa used to sit by the fire and let his grandchildren roast marshmallows there with him in the front room.

I also remember the spittoon which was placed by his chair, ready for the tobacco juice that would be forthcoming! We learned at a tender age that it was hazardous to sit in the back seat of the car when grandpa was with mom in the front. When he spat his tobacco juice out the front window it would find its way into the back with us! The "duck and cover" slogan of the 50's cold-war era, designed to prepare us for the eventuality of nuclear war, held a special meaning for my brother and I! Grandpa often made a "rattlesnake" out of an empty chewing-tobacco can by punching holes in the top and bottom, stringing a rubber band through the hole, which was held in place with toothpicks. In the center of the rubber band he placed another piece of toothpick, which he would wind up and close the lid. When it was opened, the release would cause the band to unwind resulting in a sound that resembled a shaking rattlesnake tail.

Grandpa was a gifted carpenter, and I was the happy recipient of wooden guns which shot rubber bands, as well as a doll cradle and a dish cabinet for my toy dishes I had as small child.

Mom's mother, Floy Elizabeth Williams, was born on the 9th of March, 1892, to Joseph Hooker Williams and Mary Ellen (Molly) Sparger (Wolfersperger), in Villisca, Montgomery Co., Iowa.

My first recollection of grandma and grandpa's home was the house they had on the Pilchuck River at Machias, Snohomish Co., Washington. The house was just over the bridge, with the river flowing behind it. A small tributary flowed beside the house, spilling into the river out back. I have special memories of staying with my grandparents, sleeping in an upstairs bedroom, with a bed-spread over me which grandma hand-crocheted. As I lay there at night I could hear the water flowing by, and the sounds of wind in the trees and the croaking of frogs as they serenaded one another in the twilight hours before dark descended.

During the summer of 1951 we lived with mom's parents while mom and dad searched for a home for us. My uncle Bob also lived there with his family that summer, so, although it was crowded, we had an opportunity to become friends with my new cousins. Uncle Bob had married two years before and had two step-daughters, whom he adopted. We had little opportunity to spend much time with them as we grew up, because Uncle Bob was in the Navy. He didn't retire from the military until shortly before his death from coronary artery disease in 1964 so that summer of '51 was a special one. We swam in the river behind the house, and spent many hours searching the riverbed for periwinkles to use as bait for the fishing poles we fashioned out of twigs and straight pins!

We adopted grandpa's ducks which we quickly named "Hewey", "Dewey", and "Lewey" after Donald Duck's nephews. It was much to our dismay when we found later that we were to eat our feathered friends for dinner one Sunday!

Grandma was an avid reader, and every home she lived in had a library, which held a variety of books. Her encyclopedia set was especially fascinating! The pictures were prefaced with tissue, and were in color, which was not commonly found in books in those days. However, my favorite books were the mysteries: Perry Mason, A.A. Fair, H.P. Lovecraft, and a host of others. It wasn't until my required reading in high school, where I was assigned stories by John Steinbeck, that my grandmother disapproved of anything I chose to read. She considered Steinbeck's writings "smutty".

Grandma was frequently enrolled at the community college, taking courses to keep abreast of education. This practice continued until she suffered a stroke at age 73. Education was very important to her. She graduated from high-school when she was 16, and earned her certificate in Optometry when she was seventeen. During the years I was growing up she ran a realty company in Everett. She began her business shortly after the depression, picking up the first homes she purchased by paying for the back taxes. She ran her business, Pilcher Realty, until her stroke and death in 1966.

Grandma involved herself in community affairs. She was one of the founding members of the Snohomish County Historical Society, and helped acquire the original location of the Snohomish Co. Museum, situated near the Legion Park Golf Course in northern Everett. Grandma was a kind woman, who always had a smile on her face. I never can recall a time when she was cross or angry. Even though the relationship my grandparents had was unorthodox, they were happy. Grandma taught me a great many things, but perhaps the greatest gift she bestowed upon me was the knowledge that the only thing that would prevent me from achieving whatever I desired was myself. There was nothing I could not do if I truly had the desire! She taught me how to sew, and helped me make my first dress when I was ten years old. I remember the countless hours spent ripping out my errors. I was never allowed to settle for anything less than perfect. This may seem harsh, but it was in reality a valuable lesson. Anything worth doing was worth doing our very best! The result has been to instill in me a sense of confidence and a belief in myself that comes from within.