In the Palouse region of Washington, in the town of Waverly, just across Hangman Creek, is the Waverly Cemetery, where one can find a number of Lemons.
Most notable to me was my great-great-grandmother Diana Catherine Hainer Lemon.
From the Waverly Gazette, Friday, February 7, 1908 (with my corrections):
Mrs. D.C. Lemon, died at the home of her son, J.A. Lemon, Waverly, Wash, Thursday, Jan. 30, 190 the cause of death being the infirmities incident to old age.
Diana Catherine Haine[r] was born at St. Catherine[s], Canada, May 27, 1827. She was married to Isaac Lemon in Burford, Canada, Jan. 24, 185. Nine children came to bless this union, seven of whom survive her. Shortly after their marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Lemon moved to Eri[e] county, Pa., where she resided until ten years after the death of her husband. Last April Mrs. Lemon __ moved to Waverly to live with her son, J.A. Lemon.
Mrs. Lemon was a devoted Christian and had been a church worker for more than 60 years. She was 80 years, 8 months and 3 days old at the time of her death, and while she had lived beyond the limit of ordinary lives, her death was a sad bereavement to her loving children, who have the earnest sympathy of all. Interment was in the Waverly cemet[e]ry.
My great-grandmother Merta Lemon was the ninth of the nine children mentioned. My grandmother was the eighth of Merta’s eight children.
Other Lemons were also present.
There were several of those bathtub-shaped demarcations, with no indication of their purpose. Most of them were concrete, but Abby’s was made out of metal pipe.
I had always thought of Alaska as too far away to visit easily, but SEA-JNU is only about two hours, so it’s closer than Los Angeles, and perfect for an I’ve-never-been-there-and-I-only-have-three-days-but-I-want-to-go-somewhere getaway.
People were still wearing masks, but not with much diligence. They would wear a mask into, say, a coffee place, then take it off to eat or drink. But if they got up to order something else or use the restroom, they didn’t put it back on again. And no one seemed to care. A sign on a local government building said that almost 70% of the population had had at least one vaccination dose, so there probably isn’t much need for masks at this point.
Juneau is a little beat-up looking, but in a charming frontier town way, full of quirky rustic houses, historic bars (loud ones), and stairs tucked away between buildings to help you climb the steep hills. Cruise ships don’t return until July, so there were no crowds. And the setting is spectacular.
Occasionally I would catch myself thinking that this would be a nice place to live, and then I would remember those cruise ships full of tourists, and the cold winters with five-hour days, and the fact that it’s basically a strip of land 35 miles long that has no road connection to anywhere else.
That last was probably why meals were so expensive.
- The Mount Roberts tram is worthwhile, but is probably better on a non-foggy day. Visibility was about 30 feet, so hiking didn’t seem very promising.
- There are a lot of ravens, making a variety of sounds, including a pretty decent chicken imitation.
- The Devil’s Club Brewing Co. is worth a visit if you’re ever up that way.
- I saw more Bald Eagles over the weekend than I’d ever seen before.
30 years in Santa Barbara and I never saw a whale in the wild. The various whale watching excursions in Juneau guarantee that you’ll see whales. They can do that because the area is the Humpback summer home, and in the relatively compact waters of Auke Bay, their spouts make them easy to spot. Whales don’t keep a low profile. They don’t even really try.
The excursions were completely shut down for over a year and have only been up and running again for a few weeks. Our shuttle driver was a loquacious former New Yorker named Vince who moved to Juneau shortly after 9/11 and never looked back. He pointed out everything of interest along the way. At the end of the day, he dropped each of us off wherever we wanted to go.
The first whale we saw was a female that’s been summering in these waters for at least 40 years (as long as they’ve been tracking them). The other was her four-month-old calf. The calf breached once, but I wasn’t fast enough to get it on video. Numerous surface appearances, though.
I can also confirm that “Here, boy” doesn’t work any better for whales than it does for coyotes.
The excursion included a visit to Mendenhall Glacier, although that’s approximate. The hike to the glacier is about eight miles, so showing up at 5:00 PM doesn’t allow for anything more than the much shorter hike to Nugget Falls.
There had been a number of recent bear sightings around the glacier. I didn’t see any, though, which was both a disappointment and a relief.
It is the Rawn Way.
Deckhand Dave’s sells some pretty decent Baja-style fish tacos, which makes sense given that Juneau is in Baja Alaska.
I’m staying at the Alaskan Hotel & Bar. The late-Victorian hotel and one-time brothel was built in 1913, making it the oldest hotel in Juneau.
Not the oldest bar, however. That would be the Imperial Saloon, right around the corner, which dates to 1891. There are also several other historic bars within a block or two. And some non-historic bars. And music emanating from several of them. And a whole lot of sketchy bar people talking loudly long into the night. I can sleep through almost anything, but this is really testing my skills.