Back on Home Ground

With the publication of my book, THE GOOD TIMES ARE ALL GONE NOW: Life, Death and Rebirth in an Idaho Mining Town, by the University of Oklahoma Press, I returned to the home ground of Kellogg, Idaho, where I grew up. This was my original home ground and this post describes my first readings in Kellogg and in Wallace. I have had several home grounds since I left Kellogg, but this is where I began. I'll visit my other home grounds in other posts.

I read in Kellogg at the Staff House Museum, also known as the Shoshone County Mining and Smelting Museum; and in Wallace, at the Oasis Bordello Museum (formerly known as the Lux Rooms). I was quite nervous, but in the end, I had fun.

The first one was in the basement of the old Bunker Hill staff house, where visiting engineers used to stay and my parents attended large parties, and Santa also came to visit when I was little. It was about a block down the street from my house, and from there, another block to the smelter, depicted on the front of my book.

I ordered food and wine from Steins, the local grocery store, and they outdid themselves--waaay too much food.

At about two minutes to 7:00, the time of the reading, the chairs--about 50 of them--were only half full and I was feeling bad for mis-judging who would come. By five after, there was standing room only, even though more chairs had been added. I read parts of the book about who came to town, when and why, beginning with the Italians, and ending with my family. Then I read quite a bit about my father, as nearly everyone in the room knew him. I included the section about my father having delivered 5000 babies in his time. Everyone laughed when they should have and were quiet in the sadder parts. Everyone clapped when I finished.

Then the line-up started. Nearly every person told me a story about himself or herself or my father. Often, a person would say, "I was one of the 5000." That happened about ten times--and my father has been gone more than thirty years. I sold 75 books and didn't get out of there until around 10:00. Gerry Morrison, my husband, had placed my mother's painting--the same as the painting on the book cover--on an easel, as well as enlarged photos he took and also the one of the stack coming down by Virl McCombs, and one of me at 10 (in my ski outfit) and me at 65 standing in front of the Oasis Bordello Museum. Two people bought eight books each. Many bought two or three. So, a successful evening. On Saturday, my photo was on the front page of the local newspaper, the Shoshone News-Press, and the reporter/manager/photographer wrote a very nice review.

" . . . A seamless storyteller, Weston can turn a lovely phrase, and through her memories and anecdotes readers are taken back to another era. . . . She mixes the good times with the bad, the elegiac with the joyful . . .. In short, it's a story worth reading." Nick Rotunno, Staff Writer.

I wore pale gray jeans with swirly sparkles on the rear pockets, a gold/silver jacket and light sweater, and silvery shoes. And of course, my silver/gray hair. Gerry said I was wonderful--much much better than when I had practiced in front of him. What a sweet husband.

Two nights later at the Bordello Museum, it was a much smaller group--maybe eighteen or twenty, and some repeats from Thursday night. It was a small room, and not many chairs, so SRO then too. There, I began with waiting for the smokestacks to come down, the chapter on prostitution and the houses, and ended with the falling stacks. I found myself cutting out portions of what I planned, as the group was so much smaller. Some had already bought the book and were just waiting for me to sign--one way to keep people around. I sold twenty-one books there, so now I have to order more, if I plan on reading any more in Idaho. (Few bookstores.)

Next I read in Seattle, Lopez Island, and Bellingham, Washington, before returning to Eastern Washington and Northern Idaho. It was a satisfying return to my original home ground.