Living in the Shadow of the Mountain
by Sarah Loehndorf
Located in the Heart of the town, the former train depot is now the community club, where monthly town meetings and old-timer's picnics take place. The clanking of the railroad and the distant yells of "timber" died out years ago, but Joanne Prentice can still hear them vividly. This long-time citizen will not forget the booming town that Blanchard, Wash. once was. She not only holds the keys to the community club, but she is also the unofficial community historian.
Prentice moved to Blanchard as a new bride in 1946 after the troops returned from World War II. Homes were hard to come by, but eventually she found a house in Blanchard. Although she arrived several years after the lumber mill closed its doors, Prentice said she will not forget the effect.
"Blanchard was never a farming or logging community," she said. "Initially Blanchard was a mill community that processed logs from the hill."
During this time Blanchard was surrounded by prime timber. Loggers came to Blanchard and set up camps in the town. But the mill was the permanent fixture. During the early 20th century the mill helped Blanchard’s population grow to more than 1,000. Today, Prentice said, "it has a population of about 60-odd people."
John Fravel was a settler in Blanchard in the early 1900s. Fravel had plans to run a telegraph line through Bellingham to Siberia. Unfortunately, a telegraph line was placed in the Atlantic Ocean instead, forcing Fravel to abandon his plans. Fravel settled in Blanchard where he reopened the post office that became one of the social centers of the town.
"The most historical thing that happened to Blanchard is that it got here, that it just happened," Prentice said. "It looks like nothing ever goes on here, and nothing ever does; it just comes through."
Every house in Blanchard had a story, every tree and plant a tale. A pile of old wood that once was a house now lies on the muddy ground. Its former owner, a Japanese woman, was sent to an internment camp in the late 1940s, and never returned to Blanchard.
In the early 1900s, Japanese immigrants ran the oyster business in town, which replaced the mill. Oyster farming thrived in Blanchard until 1991 when the plant was sold and to a company in Shelton.
Around the same time the lumber mill was in full swing, trains passed through the town stopping at the small Blanchard train depot. Built in the late 1800s, the train depot, now the Blanchard Community Club, has continued to fulfill many of the area’s needs. As Prentice walked up the stairs the wooden planks creaked from old age.
"We have potlucks and old-timers picnics," she said. "Not a lot of people come to meetings. People are not used to community participation. Society itself has changed, not just Blanchard."
Inside the community center it was evident just how much things had changed. A tattered American flag with 48 stars hangs on the wall. Years ago it flew above the Blanchard School.
Over the door, a train schedule printed on a chalkboard displayed the time for a train destined for Seattle in 1924.
"We found the chalkboard in 1985 in the attic, with the original times for the train," she said.
The board was spotless. Still hanging in mint condition, it gave the feeling a ghost train bound for Seattle would be pulling into the small depot any second, without the town’s residents batting an eye.
A large framed picture hung above the chalkboard displaying a man gazing astutely off into the distance. A small hand written note below the image revealed the identity of the dignified man to be Edward R. Murrow. Though Murrow was one of the founding fathers of television journalism and a veteran war correspondent, he is most famous for his 1954 expose on accusations made by U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy who falsely claimed many prominent Americans were communists. While most journalists reprinted the senator’s lies without question, Murrow confronted him on a CBS television program that drastically changed public opinion and eventually led to McCarthy’s censure and fall from political prominence.
As Prentice strolled through town, many neighbors opened their doors, got off their bikes or slowed their cars down as they drove by to wave at Prentice. Katherine Charles stopped her bike to talk to Prentice. Charles now occupies the house Murrow once owned.
Murrow lived in Blanchard from 1913-1925. While working at CBS, Murrow often said he would trade it all to sit on the dike at Blanchard with a gun, waiting for a duck to fly by. Charles moved to Blanchard looking for a farmhouse, but when she came across Murrow’s, her family quickly settled there. She has been a part of the Blanchard community for several years. She attended the meeting earlier in March to discuss the logging of Blanchard Mountain.
"I worry about the water source," she said. "I worry that the water source will be contaminated from logging. Visually, I am not looking forward to it."
Blanchard Mountain is the only part of the Cascade mountain range that touches the ocean. The view draws nature enthusiasts, parasailers, hikers and horseback riders to the area. "Logging wasn’t discussed as much as the recreational and ecological aspects," Prentice said. "We are not a logging community. We do not approach the mountain with a logger’s point of view. We would like to have Blanchard Mountain managed intelligently, towards clean water and air."
Prentice leads the monthly meetings. Many of the residents share the same sentiments as Prentice regarding their community. George Thalan has lived in Blanchard for 15 years. "We potentially could have a major problem on how it [logging] is done," he said. "It could be a major flood issue."
The town of Blanchard lies just beneath Blanchard Mountain. Many residents fear that flooding would result from logging. If the trees were logged, the water that is normally absorbed by the trees and plants could instead be diverted down the mountain and into the town.
Residents are not the only ones who have the logging of Blanchard Mountain on their mind. Bellingham resident JoAnn Roe has researched Blanchard and wrote a book entitled Ghost Camps and Boom Towns. She also commented on the proposed logging of Blanchard Mountain.
"Logging is like farming," she said. "It depends what situation it is. Some land is better to be farmed. Trees have a finite life; they live 300 years and fall down — not all would have to be saved."
Many people, both in and out of the Blanchard area, feel logging will not affect Blanchard. Logging does not hold the massive influence on the community that it once did. Fewer than a handful of people in Blanchard can remember the times of logging, but long time resident Frank Pratt grew up in a family where logging was a way of life.
Pratt was born in Blanchard in 1915. His father worked at the Blanchard Mill.
"When we were kids, we couldn’t go in, but we could see some of the action," Pratt said of the mill. "There was always a great big fire going. At times it was so hard to breathe from the smoke in town."
Pratt said the logging process has always intrigued him.
"I like to see it," he said. "It always fascinates me. All manual labor — no chain saws or anything like that. Just a bunch of hard working people."
If Blanchard Mountain were logged today, it would be done using more machines and far fewer people. In the early 1900s, each tree had to be cut down one at a time and by several men.
Just as some people feel Blanchard Mountain needs to be preserved, Prentice feels the town of Blanchard and its history should be, as well.
"Everyone in life has a job, she said. "This is my job. If anyone is as lucky to have a job like this, as I am, then count your blessings."
As she walked through the quiet town, she pointed to a vacant lot that years before had been a house or a store. She recalled, story after story, anecdotes of the past. The images became so vivid that they began to transform the town. The ghost town began to disappear and a new town stood in its place. She no longer walked through the empty, muddy streets of Blanchard. The quiet was replaced with the sound of giggling children, women gossiping about their neighbors and people running in and out of the old Blanchard Grocery. After walking a few minutes in silence she said, "If you have to live nowhere, this is the best place to live."
Blanchard may be a small town, but it was evident what she meant when she said "Blanchard is nowhere in the middle of everywhere." Over the past one hundred years it has touched nearly every part of the world, leaving Prentice a heritage and a legacy to leave behind.
