HUCKLEBERRIES: 'This is our dream'
Duane Hagadone loved sizzle.
He wanted his projects to inspire awe — a floating green on a lakeside golf course, the world’s longest boardwalk to extend the Coeur d’Alene waterfront and Black Friday fireworks.
But none of his personal or professional projects prompted as much jaw-dropping reaction as the public’s first glimpse of his plans for the old North Shore Motor Hotel.
“It will change the face of Coeur d’Alene,” predicted chamber manager Sandy Emerson on Aug. 24, 1983, after he and 1,000 others jammed two bays of the North Shore to hear about Duane’s plans.
With few exceptions, the overhauled resort that opened less than three years later would closely resemble the preliminary design unveiled that day by Duane, partner Jerry Jaeger and architect R.G. Nelson.
The original design, for example, called for an expanded tower of 16 floors, topped by an observation deck with a panoramic view of the waterfront. When it opened in May 1986, The Coeur d’Alene: A Resort on the Lake, had 18 stories capped by two luxurious suites, named after the partners.
Otherwise, most of the initial elements made the final cut — a boardwalk circling an expanded marina, more rooms and convention space, a fine-dining area with twice the space as the previous one (Beverly’s), a shopping mall and parking garage connected by a skyway across Front Avenue, a clock tower.
Duane also proposed to transform the front area of The Resort from buildings and a parking lot into a green expanse by removing Templin’s restaurant, a small chamber of commerce building, surface parking and the old railroad tracks that once served the Rutledge mill on the east edge of town.
Now, of course, The Resort is fronted by a manicured lawn, red geraniums, sculpted trees and a sweeping view of Independence Point and the north shore.
When completed, Duane told the crowd, The Resort, with its boardwalk, would provide public access to the water from North Idaho College to Tubbs Hill.
The new North Shore complex, architect Nelson promised, would not look like it did that August day. The aim of the master plan, he said, was to “make a statement of what Coeur d’Alene and North Idaho is all about, not the usual glass and marble hotel, but something compatible with the area.”
The roof would be peaked, Nelson added, to eliminate the stark, box-effect of most modern buildings.
Duane punctuated his comments by saying: “This is our dream.”
The dream became a reality and, indeed, changed the face of Coeur d’Alene forever.
A commie plot?
Fluoride was THE issue in Coeur d’Alene, as well as nationally, during Perry Christianson’s run as mayor (1955-61). Such was the furor over fluoride that a group begged the mayor to “eliminate that insidious poison” from the water system.
At one council meeting, Perry recalled later, a local bowler insisted that his scores went down while he was drinking water in Coeur d’Alene. But they went up when he hydrated in Sandpoint. “It took the wind out of his sails when we told him Sandpoint had been fluoridating their water long before Coeur d’Alene,” Perry told a Press reporter. Although all the dentists and all but one doctor in town favored fluoridation, voters mandated its demise.
The fluoridation story was one of many included in a Press feature Aug. 22, 1993, announcing a farewell party for Perry, then 89, and his wife, Irene. After successful stints as mayor and North Idaho Junior College president, they were moving to Auburn, Wash., to be near family.
Perry spearheaded the development of the hospital, public golf course, Museum of North Idaho and NIJC. The college named Christianson Gym after him.
Don’t be a Guberif
With human-caused wildfires bedeviling us, it’s time to hunt down the Guberif.
In the 1950s, and for decades afterward, the Guberif was Idaho’s anti-hero, a cartoon character who raised wildfire awareness by feigning bad behavior in the forest (i.e., flicking away lit cigarettes and abandoning campfires). In 1950, spokesman Richard Trzuskowski of Keep Idaho Green created the Guberif as an Idaho twist to the national Keep Green movement.
The program started in Washington in the 1940s after an epidemic of Pacific Northwest wildfires. Smokey Bear (“Remember … only YOU can prevent forest fires”) is a Keep Green era product, too. In Idaho, “Don’t Be a Guberif” was painted on 300 road surfaces and printed on 100,000 postcards.
If you can’t figure out what a Guberif is, spell the name backward.
Huckleberries
• Poet’s Corner: Old Uncle Harry often states/he’s not a fan of those debates;/With all their posturing and hasslin’,/they’re pretty much like TV wrasslin’ — The Bard of Sherman Avenue (“Political Debates”).
• Gone Too Soon: You may know that the local chamber volunteer award was named after banker Ed Abbott. But do you know who he was? “Ed was a super go-getter,” says former chamber manager Sandy Emerson. “He would do anything for anyone.” Ed was destined for great things in the mid-1980s when a congenital health problem felled him after a gym workout.
• Flying High: Among the first class of Licensed Practical Nurses to graduate from North Idaho Junior College (August 1968) was Gladys Buroker. Before enrolling at NIJC, Gladys and hubby, Herb, ran a flight instruction school at Weeks Field. Also, she once was an airplane wing walker. And, recalls Kiki Miller, she flew hot-air balloons. They don’t make them like Gladys anymore.
• NIMBYism: The BMX track on Cherry Hill is part of our community fabric today. But neighbors were soundly opposed 20 years ago when it was first proposed. “It’s not compatible to the neighborhood,” fumed one woman. “Not one of us has a dirt bicycle in our garage.” Nevertheless, the track was built — and there aren’t many, if any, complaints today.
• Dog Gone: And the answer is: Oshkosh Yeoman. The question: Which greyhound won the first race ever at the Coeur d’Alene Greyhound Park on Aug. 23, 1988. The pooch circled the 5/16th-mile course in 31.75 seconds. Opening night attracted a paid attendance of 3,113 and a handle of $154,745. Ultimately, $21 million in red ink — and counting — ended the track's run Dec. 31, 1995.
• Pave Paradise: A last-ditch effort to save the 105-year-old McCormick House failed Aug. 18, 1983, when NIC trustees voted to tear it down. Once, it had served as the officers’ quarters at Fort Sherman. Wolf Lodge rancher Bernard Campbell and other preservationists raised only $8,000 of the $100,000 needed to pay for renovations. And the site became a parking lot.
• Ain’t No Lovin’: Winding down his summer with his four sons on Hayden Lake, widower Bing Crosby, puffed on his pipe in August 1953 and told The Press he had “no time for romance.” Although he’d been linked romantically with actress Mona Freeman, the crooner was focused on golf and paying off the $1 million inheritance tax which fell due after wife Dixie’s death in 1952.
Parting shot
In the early 1950s, Elmer James, the parking enforcer, and downtown merchants gave tourists a free pass for violations. And the visitors showed their appreciation by sending Officer James warm messages from around the country, promising to return. The courtesy citations, furnished by the chamber of commerce, were postcards with scenic photos of the lake and an explanation of the Lake City's parking laws. Officer James placed about 25 per day on windshields of violators during tourism season. The only out-of-staters who didn’t get a pass from Officer James were from Spokane County. Coeur d’Alene wasn’t being discriminatory, James insisted, it just didn’t think — wink, wink — that most Spokane visitors were tourists.
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Dave Oliveria can be contacted at dfo@cdapress.com. You can find more of his old stories and photos on his Facebook page: D.F. Oliveria.