There’s a lot to be said about a good stormy day, or a fall night when the moon is out, the clouds race across its face and the night is haunting.  But the sunshine seems to extract pleasantness and serenity from my body and mind.  Maybe it’s because we don’t get sunny days as much as other places.  Maybe it’s because the bright sunshine illuminates the soul and highlights creation.  Whatever it is, a beautiful day brings out the best in us.  Dispositions are happier and everyone tries to be positive and exuberant.  I love these days.  I look forward to many more this year.  Let’s all allow the sunshine to bring out the best in us as humans!

The world we live in is every changing whether for good or bad.  To be prepared for the bad, the government and other agencies have implemented requirements that should be adhered to in order to save one’s family and life.

There are a number of websites designed by the state, county, government, FEMA, OSHA and others that outline the basic steps that should be taken and to be prepared for the worst.  It would be prudent for everyone to be prepared for such an event.  A minimum three day supply of food and water along with other basics such as a first-aid kit, dust masks, rope, emergency blankets, water purification tablets, waterproof matches, multitool, NOAA radio, lights, batteries, money in small bills, important documents, gloves, mirrors, whistles and more should be ready to go in a “go-bag” at a moments notice.  Keeping these bags handy, perhaps in your car at all times could save your family and your life.

So even though years ago the tiny city of Covington didn’t even dream of such scenarios, today it is a reality and we should all be prepared.

As the years passed though, home computers came on the scene.  First, what seemed like huge amounts of data, speed and storage emerged and were understood in terms of kilobytes.  Then came megabytes.  Wow!  That’s a lot.  And when computer companies started talking about gigabytes it felt like we were moving quickly into the future and the realm of science fiction.  Now we are beginning to hear terms like terabytes and petabytes.  Petabytes are the next level after terabytes.  And it goes on from there.

Every heard of exabytes or yottabytes?  They’re not far away.  Even in a small outpost like Covington these terms are commonplace and understood by most people.  Not only do landscapes, cities, homes, economies and environments change over time, but so do technological endeavors.

For more information, read this link to find out about these terms and the future of man-made storage needs.  It kind of makes me wonder how many bytes of storage the City of Covington needs to store all the information about the city and its residents and what their needs will be in the not-to-distant future.

Think about all the bridges in the Covington area now.  The Hwy 18 bridge over Kent-Kangley (or overpass if you want to be technical), the Covington Way bridge over Hwy 18, the SE 256th bridge over Hwy 18, the bridges over creeks and waterways near the Hobart-Issaquah exit, the Hwy 18 bridge near the Tahoma Middle School and the old Taylor Creek Golf Course (now a church), the smaller bridges around the local area that span creeks where housing developments or roadway improvements have demanded them and more.

As the area grows and more infrastructure emerges, bridges will be a normal part of the landscape but rarely noticed by busy commuters using them every day.

When construction began, I was hoping for a restaurant or something new to the area.  I didn’t expect another tire shop.  Think about it.  We already have Costco, Les Schwab and Covington Tire next door to O’Reilly’s auto parts and all are within 1/2 of a mile of each other. Does Covington really have that much demand for more tires? Plus just down the road there are other tire shops at Four Corners in Maple Valley not to mention the shops by Lake Meridian and in Kent.

I don’t know.  Will this new tire shop get enough business?  I guess we’ll find out soon enough!

Funny how time and experience quell those fears and reduce apprehension.  The field doesn’t look nearly as big as it did then and as for the trees, well they’re gone.  Yup, gone!  Standing now in the place of that forest of fir and other varieties of trees a large iron structure is looming slowly into view.  It is the new Valley Medical center.  If you drive by on the back side by Costco and Fred Meyer, you can look at things from a different perspective, and view Covington Elementary from the back.  It makes me wonder how far the children will be allowed to run on that field now?  I’m sure there will eventually be a fence there to protect both children and property, but sadly future generations of kids will never experience the fear and trepidation that a dark, thick forest behind the field and playground might hold.  For them it will just be another big building in an ever-expanding Covington, Washington.

Now the lot is just dirt.  I’m wondering what the plan is.  Another restaurant?  A gas station?  Something else?  I think it would be nice to have a little more upscale restaurant there like an Olive Garden or a fish eatery.  Something outside the realm of “fast food” which Covington has a lot of already.  I’ll keep my eyes peeled and see if I find out anything.  We might be surprised but then again the lot may stay empty for years.

I remember as a kid getting some deep snow occasionally.  In fact, I remember one winter when we had icicles hanging off the house that were up to two feet long.  I think my mom still has pictures somewhere of that. That was quite a winter.  Of course, as a kid I thought it was great.  No school.  Playing in the snow.  No big deal.  But now that I’m older, not so much fun.  I still had to go to work last month despite the snow.  And for most of the week I shoveled snow at work to clear walkways and stairs.  My back told me I was definitely NOT 18 anymore.

We’re still not out of winter yet, so we’ll see if the weather brings us anymore odd storms.  Since the bullfrogs have started to croak now, I’m hoping they know more about the weather than I and that we are done with the ice and snow for this year.  Time will tell.

Back in the 1960′s, Covington was not like today.  If you’ve read my previous posts, you’ll know what I mean.  Growth has continued in the area and changes are constant.  As I sit here at the beginning of 2012, it makes me think back to a time when Covington was a small, wooded area with sparsely popluated homes and businesses spread throughout the surrounding areas.  Today it is a regular city with traffic jams included.  I wonder how much growth with take place in the next few years.  We will wait and see.  Welcome to 2012 in “Jenkins Prairie”!

Click here for more Wikipedia background on Covington.

Not far from my house is the Little Soos Creek.  Every year salmon, up to two feet long at times, make their way up the creek and spawn.  Sometimes there are just a few, sometimes many.  But to see these creatures of habit returning year-after-year to their breeding grounds to lay fresh eggs is amazing. 

The salmon love to hide out under the edges of the creek bed where there are brush overhangs as well as where the bank is undercut due to the flow of water.  The splashing of water catches your attention.  As you cautiously walk up to the creek you can spot these fish in the water.  Some are swimming, others are using their fins to dig in the gravel and sand to lay new eggs.  Later in the year tiny salmon are seen swimming around and then they head downstream where they will start their journey again.

Sometimes the salmon are at the end of their life cycle.  They make their way up the creek and lay their eggs, but then they turn dark red and die.  Raccoons sometimes make their way into the creek at night for a salmon snack and other salmon just rot.  So goes the cycle of life. 

So, now when I think of salmon , I think first of Covington.  Then I think of the ocean and fish hatcheries.  Pretty amazing though!

The sun was out that day.  It was hot, but the shade of the trees and our bottles of water kept us cool.  We made our way up the trail that would take us to the abandoned ghost town of Franklin.  The incline wasn’t too steep, although some parts are steeper than others.  Off to our left we could hear the distant sound of the Green River in the canyon far below.  Birds flitted here and there and the smell of hot vegetation and grass tickled our noses.

After about 20 minutes of walking we reached a sort of “Y” in the trail.  A sign there pointed us to the right into the old town of Franklin and to the left to the vertical mineshaft and the Franklin cemetery.  We went right first. 

There’s not much left to see in the old town.  A few foundations, a large concrete structure used for something and the trail going through it all.  Since it was summer, much of the vegetation covered areas we might have been better able to see, but we got the idea.  We wandered around for a bit and then turned back to go in the other direction, our real destination on this summer hike.

Heading up another incline, we made our way up the narrow trail.  About 10 minutes later the railings surrounding the old mine shaft loomed into view.  This was our goal.  Since I’d been here some thirty years ago with my family and then later with my wife when we were first married, I knew what to expect.  But it’s funny how your mind remembers things differently.  I didn’t remember the closeness of the hill behind the shaft or all the shale that had sloughed off of it.  I thought the area surrounding the shaft was more like an open field but it was not.  There was only fifteen feet or so of walking area around the shaft before it dropped steeply down the hill toward the river.  No matter.  We were there to check out the old mine shaft.

The Shaft

Looking Down the Shaft

A plaque sits in front of the shaft describing when it was drilled, how it was used and the years in use, mainly the early 1900′s.  The shaft itself is over 1200 feet straight down.  Old railroad (coal car) tracks criss-cross the opening which are also covered by a more modern grid of iron rods welded and secured by a concrete border all around.  This in turn is surrounded by a metal rail.  And this is where it gets exciting for the daring.

We grabbed handfulls of rocks, sticks and other debris, walked out onto the metal grid and lay down staring into the shaft.  This is not for the faint of heart!  As you lay there and cup your eyes with your hands so they can become accustomed to the dark, you begin to see the shaft take shape underneath you.  You are now looking straight down over a thousand feet into inky blackness.  Cramming our rocks through the holes, we dropped them into the abyss.  As they whistle into the darkness below, they disappear within seconds as the darkness envelops them.  Another five or six seconds later you hear them hit the bottom.  Occasionally a larger roar emanates from the shaft as rocks shift or the rock you dropped bounces off the side of the shaft dislodging a large chunk of rock and dirt far below.  (Warning:  Remove anything you have from your pockets that you don’t want to inadvertantly lose.  If it slips between the grid, it’s gone!) 

After an hour or more of dropping things into this hole in the earth’s crust, we decided to head back home.  We had planned on walking further down the trail to look at the old cemetary, but the overgrowth was more than we’d expected.  Next time we’ll have to hike earlier in the season before the vegetation takes over.  Gathering up our stuff we walk the half hour or so back to our vehicle.  It was a fun and relaxing day. The plan is to do it again, but to explore more. 

We have a friend in her eighties who lived in Franklin as a little girl.  She remembers well the town and what went on there.  We mentioned we were there and she fondly comments on life back then.  Maybe next time we should take her along to tell us the “real” history of the town as she remembers it.

(Note:  There is a guide that occasionally takes groups up to Franklin and shares the history of the area with them.  If you want to go alone, you need to get a free pass from Palmer Coking and Coal located in Black Diamond.)

Even though I live in Covington, when I was in school I went to Kent-Meridian high school.  I rode the bus there which took about 30 to 40 minutes each way.  Kentwood was still being built when I was a junior and when it opened my senior year we were allowed to finish our schooling at Kent-Meridian which I was thankful for.  Kentlake didn’t exist yet and Kentridge was too far away to attend.  So I went to the coolest of the four Kent high schools.  (I know some of you are vehemently saying it isn’t so, but I stand my ground, especially since my wife and two kids both graduated from Kentwood.) 

It’s hard to believe that next year I’ll have been out of school 30 years.  The time flew by.  And when you run into others from your graduating class, it makes you realize how quickly time moves. 

When was the last time you perused your annual and found some of those peers still living in your area?

Looking to the left in the open area underneath the power lines we saw a small fire burning and a few people standing around staring and talking.  At first we thought it was just someone burning some old brush or something, but within seconds our minds grasped the enormity of what we were seeing.  It was a small airplane that had clipped the power lines while trying to land and had crashed into the field bursting into flames.  The people standing around had heard or seen what had happened, but because of the heat were unable to pull the pilot free.  He died in the crash.

The joyous ride home suddenly turned somber and sickening.  My stomach churned realizing that just a minute or so before another human had been alive and was suddenly dead in a field.  An unfortunate accident.  To realize that what you are seeing is not on TV but is the real thing makes your mind reel with thoughts about the fragility of life.  To know that a person was burning up inside that plane as we passed made me sick. 

Sadly, others have perished in plane crashes near Covington in years past too.  I remember the plane that crashed below Crest Airpark along Thomas road around 1997.  It hit a house and burned up.  I remember going by that house days after the accident and having that same gut-wrenching feeling of a loss of life again.  Then, near the scene of this plane crash, in 2008 another plane hit a house while the occupants were inside.  Only the pilot died.  Still, a tragic loss of life. 

It’s always sobering to contemplate the loss of life so near your home.  These incidents stick in your mind forever.  I just pray another plane doesn’t go down again around Covington.  Life is too precious to be cut short.

Of course as the years passed, other church buildings were constructed.  I clearly remember the Faith Tabernacle, now call Faith Academy on wax road by the highway 18 overpass being built.  And then later the Cornerstone United Methodist church near the top of the hill going toward Maple Valley on Kent-Kangley was constructed.  Eventually the Hope Fellowship church at the top of hill on Kent-Kangley near the Pla-Mor tavern and the new Chevron gas station came on the scene.  There is also the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints near Four Corners and a plethora of other churches either in rented facilities or their own buildings within a five-mile radius of Covington.  I did an online search of “churches in Covington” and was amazed how many there really are.

Now the new Mountain Vineyard Christian Fellowship will be added to the tally of churches in Covington. It’s amazing how many people have an interest in the Bible in our own backyard.  If more people in the world read and applied what it said we’d have a much nicer world to live in.  I wonder how many more religious structures will be erected in the next few years in Covington.  With continued growth and more people, I’m sure we’ll see a few more buildings for worship popping up on the landscape.  In fact, if more churches are built along Kent-Kangley, (also known as SR 516 and SE 272nd St.) maybe we should add a fourth name for this road, Worship Way!

Although the shopping center will be wonderful for residents in the area, the loss of nature is always heartrending.  It always saddens me to see nature disappear to make way for city growth.  But what can you do?

For as long as I can remember, the forests at Four Corners have been there.  Over the last few years with the increase in housing developments and businesses, these areas are slowly disappearing.  Four Corners is still rural enough that elk and deer can be seen wandering across the fields at the Tahoma Junior High School as well as along the roads heading toward Ravensdale and Hobart.  I’m sure it will be awhile before the forests that far out are gone, but given a couple of decades I’m sure huge changes will be clearly visible.

As I kid I remember the summer being hot, sunny and bright.  When June arrived and school was out so was the sun.  We played day after day in sunshine and never seemed to lack for warmth and long days.  When I got home from playing, the sun was going down, the cool summer air was present and the purples of twilight were radiant.  It was a fun day and we were ready for bed only to be awakened by shafts of sunshine piercing the window pane at 6:00 a.m.

Now, it seems that man and all his technological advances, ecological interference and disregard for our planet has been a major factor in the demise of summer.  If things continue to go the way they are, it won’t be long before we have no summer at all.  I prefer to remember the good-ol’-days when the sun greeted me every summer day and I sucked up the rays for full days of play.  If I keep that positive feeling and memory intact, I’ll be happy too even when the skies are gray.

When the roundabouts started showing up in Covington and Maple Valley, at first I hated them.  They were a nuisance and irritating.  But as they’ve appeared in more places, my loathing for them has diminished.  They’re actually not so bad.  Once you get the hang of navigating the circles, you can really keep a good flow from point A to point B.

The newest roundabout next to the Maple Valley library is just about complete.  Anyone who has driven that stretch of road can attest to the fact that sitting at that intersection trying to get out on a busy day was frustrating.  I sat many minutes more than once waiting to take my chances at getting on to Witte road.  And the potential for an accident increased with the upswing in traffic.  But try it now.  Even though you may still have to stop for a moment or so while the traffic flows through the circular road control, you do get out and moving much quicker than at an intersection.

My biggest problem is those drivers who don’t navigate the roundabout correctly.  Once your in the roundabout, you have the right-of-way to flow around the circle until you disembark at the street you want.  The traffic flowing in from the adjoining streets have to merge!  For some reason, more than once I’ve had people entering the roundabout as I was coming around it and they just pulled in front of me as if I had to stop and treat it as a four-way stop.  Think people!  There are big signs that say MERGE!  Plus there are markings on the pavement that indicate the need to slow down and merge.

If everyone uses the roundabouts correctly, they work like a charm.  When people ignore the rules either because they don’t care, don’t know or are upset with another roundabout to navigate, then these traffic control circles can become dangerous.  So, whether you go round and round or round and through, roundabouts will keep you going in the direction you want with minimal interruption to your driving.  And I don’t think they’ll go away any time soon.

As a kid, going to Shakey’s was always a highlight.  I remember stepping up on the steps inside the parlor and peering through the windows at the pizza makers creating our food.  The atmosphere was wonderful.  A big fireplace burning in the parlor.  Old-time silent comedies playing on the movie screen and delicious pizza and laughter to pass the time. 

As I got older, Shakey’s slowly disappeared from the scene.  The old pizza parlor in Auburn gone.  The one near Benson and Kent-Meridian high school gone.  And now the one in Maple Valley, almost gone.  My family and I went out to have dinner there Friday night and were very saddened to see the letter on the door stating that after some 30 years, Shakey’s in Maple Valley would be closing.  We ate and laughed but behind a slight cloud of sadness.  To know that in only a few more days on May 31st, Shakey’s would be gone.  Now, the only one left will be in Fairwood.  We may patronize this at some time, but being so much farther away, it will probably be few and far between. 

Sometimes I wish things wouldn’t change.  A small piece of my childhood disappears every time.  All that’s left is a memory in my mind which only I can retrieve.  I know that the closing of the Maple Valley Shakey’s is probably for a good reason, but it still is sad.  I will miss my Shakey’s special, the Mojo’s and chicken and the friendly staff.  I guess I’ll have to delete their phone number from my memory.  I didn’t even have to look it up when I called. 

Before it’s gone, I’ll have to enjoy a pizza there with my family one more time.  So sometime between now and May 31st, you’ll see us there adding one more memory to my Shakey’s mental file before archiving it forever.

I remember one year my dad decided to walk the train tracks from the crossing by Lake Sawyer on 216thto the crossing in Covington  near the substation.  He wanted me to walk with him.  Cool!,  I thought.  But I’m afraid of getting hit by a train.  That was my biggest worry.  I’d heard horror stories of people getting hit by trains, things flying out from the wheels of trains, wires that sometimes got tangled or were loose on trains and could kill as they went by you if you were you to stand too close to the tracks, getting sucked underneath a train and more.  Besides, I was a little guy, probably about ten years old or so.  So I was scared.  Needless to say, we took the walk.

My dad arranged for my mom to pick us up later in the day. She dropped us off at the Lake Sawyer crossing and met us later in Covington.  And we walked.  It really wasn’t all that bad, in fact kind of fun.  Walking along the tracks I was able to see an area in my own neighborhood that I would normally never see.  Railroad lines travel through country and neighborhoods in areas most people never know exist.  Walking this line was really neat.  Quiet.  Peaceful.  Scenery unseen to most people.  Walkingwith my dad.  And the best part, no scary trains, although deep down inside I really wanted to see one go by. 

I don’t remember how long the walk took, maybe an hour or so, but I do remember the walk.  When we arrived at the other end, my mom was there to pick us up.  Timing and trust were the elements for arrival since cell phones didn’t exist.  If no one had been there, we would have waited.  That’s just the way it was.  

It was a memorable experience and I’ve often wanted to take my kids on the same or a similar walk along the rail lines.  But with the no trespassing laws in place by the railroads and the inherent dangers, I won’t.  Too many people are killed are injured by disobeying the laws that have been put there for our protection.  Still all is not lost.

Think about the old railway beds in Renton and Maple Valley and surrounding areas.  The Rails-to-Trails project that has been in place for years has actually taken advantage of the unseen world where only trains used to travel by transforming old railway lines into walking/biking trails.  Complete withbeautiful wooded areas, rivers and streams, animals, old and new railway bridges and the nostalgia of what the old rail lines were used for decades ago hangs silently in the air.  These old rail lines criss-cross the United States.  You could actually hike all over the U.S. on these abandoned rail lines.  Do a little research at the library or the Maple Valley Historical Society about the old mining operations and other industry that debuted in this area before you take a hike and you’ll find yourself gazing and pondering life as it was up to a century ago as you walk these gentle trails.  Walk some of these trails in other states and your knowledge of history will increase exponentially.

I’ve walked a few of these trails in our area very few times, but maybe it’s time to get out in the sunshine and spend a day hiking close to home.  Incorporating the history behind the rail lines and pondering the way life was back then would be fascinating.  The trails are easy to navigate, it’s great for keeping your family close and it’s great exercise.  And best of all it’s legal!

I can remember many times travelling down the Kent-Black Diamond Road at 35 to 40 mph and making a slight turn to the right just underneath the highway and veering onto 152nd Ave. SE and zipping on up the hill which is a back way into what used to be known as S.I.R. or Seattle International Raceway. (Now it is known by the name Pacific Raceway)

Then one day several years ago I passed this same point and noticed a lot of construction going on.  The road was being changed.  I’m not sure why this was done, but when you travel to that point now, a drainage pond filled with marshy plants and surrounded by a fence sits where the “Y” used to be.  In order to turn onto 152nd Ave SE now, you have to go just beyond the highway 18 overpass, slow down, and make a right turn onto this road.  Then the road turns sharply to the left and you’re on your way as before. 

I don’t know if it was to prevent speeding, because of the construction to change highway 18 or other factors, but the road has been forever changed.  I can’t help but remember the old “Y” every time I pass by there.  Another small change in the vicinity of Covington that only long time residents would remember.

For many years my dad would haul our garbage out to that landfill.  I vividly remember driving out there in his pickup and being directed out to some point in the middle of constantly changing garbage mountains and being told to throw our trash in a particular place.  Bulldozers were continually pushing and shoving garbage around as they crushed and aerated the debris much like a mole or earthworm.  Each time we would arrive to dump garbage, the landscape had changed and we were directed to a new area down a new garbage lane. 

As the years went by, changes in the arrangement for paying occurred.  I don’t remember everything about that since I wasn’t the one paying the bill, but I do remember when we arrived one day and they had erected a booth for taking money and more security and signs.  Eventually we weren’t even allowed to walk any distance from our vehicle.  We had to dump and go.  In years prior to that, I would wander around while my dad dumped garbage and marvel at all the other treasures other people had dumped.  I always wanted to pick up something else that I thought was cool and take it home, but of course pa wouldn’t allow that, nor would the landfill personnel.

At times part of the garbage we dumped contained remnants of my old toys that were broken or didn’t work anymore.  I was sad to see them go, but as I’ve learned now, you can’t save everything, especially things that don’t work.  So I’d stand in the back of the pickup and watch bags of trash, part of which was my old toys, get thrown over the edge and underneath the crushing tracks of some diesel caterpillar. 

Today, whenever I drive by the closed landfill, which by the way was open some twenty to thirty years if I recall correctly, I think about how much of my history and probably DNA lies buried in those mounds.  It looks so peaceful now.  The days of loud machinery, myriads of people dumping garbage out of their vehicles and the smell of garbage filling the air are gone.  To the average person today, it’s just a closed landfill which emits some methane as the earth absorbs and decays the years of garbage that were dumped there.  I wonder if some day an archaeologist will discover one of my toys and wonder what it was used for?

My wife and I decided to see if we could view this rare phenomenon in our area.  So, we drove out past Ravensdale and stopped along the long stretch of road just past the Ravensdale post office.  Twenty-five years ago there were few houses in that area, especially in the housing development on the north side that exists now.  It was just roads, no houses. 

The thing that made viewing along this stretch of road perfect was the lack of height of the fir trees.  That entire area had recently been logged and replanted, so the trees only stood about five feet high or less.  Thus, there was a grand view across the expanse toward the north that was clear and open. 

My wife had never seen the Northern Lights before. I had seen them a few times when I was younger and on vacation in Canada with my parents.  We sat quietly and as our eyes grew accustomed to the dark, the ethereal, wavering, ribbon-like colors of the aurora borealis could be seen in the sky.  Greens and reds shimmered against a backdrop of star-studded black velvet.  It was an amazing and awe-inspiring sight. 

I haven’t seen any Northern Lights since then.  I hope that one day my children will enjoy this show of nature as it is something you don’t forget.  Beauty in all it’s splendor!

Decades ago there were no signals there.  When I was young it was just Wax Rd. and Kent-Kangley.  Two lanes on both roads crossing each other.  For a long time only Wax Rd. had stop signs.  Bad news.  Because traffic on Kent-Kangley traveled at a higher rate of speed, those trying to cross often misjudged this and accidents were numerous including some fatalities. 

Another reason for accidents was the angle of this intersection.  This is especially noticeable when traveling west on Kent-Kangley.  If you are sitting in the turn lane facing downtown Covington and are preparing to turn left onto Wax Rd., the angle is such that the speed and distance of the oncoming traffic is skewed.  You think you have plenty of time until you start to turn and then you realize it is much farther than you anticipated.  More than once I did this and almost got hit.  It’s an optical illusion.

Eventually, stop signs were placed at all four points of intersection and accidents diminished greatly.  Later, signals were put in, first temporary ones on wires, then permanent signals with poles.  In the last few months, the poles were removed as U-turn lanes were created widening Kent-Kangley and so once again wires were used for the temporary signals.  Now the permanent signals are installed.  Spanning the entire intersection these new control lights will minimize accidents and control flow through an ever busier Covington. 

I just wonder how many more years until this isn’t enough and expansion and new lights are once again under construction as Covington makes itself known on the maps of the world.

We were talking about Maple Valley when the name Caruso’s came up.  Wow!  That got me thinking.  The original restaurant was located along the Maple Valley highway about where Starbucks and Papa John’s is now.  Of course, the highway was only two lanes and the turn into the restaurant was into a dirt parking lot.  A ramp led up to the restaurant and as we both remembered, the restaurant reminded us of a modular home due to its construction. 

I had a friend that loved to go there and always ordered a Patty Melt.  That always stuck in my mind since a Patty Melt contains a hamburger patty, cheese and grilled onions.  I don’t care for onions, so I couldn’t imagine why he’d like this item.  But he did.  Every time I see Patty Melt on the menu, I think of him, and Caruso’s. 

We also talked about how many trees there were in Covington and Maple Valley.  Businesses were minimal and trees aplenty.  Behind Caruso’s and some of the few other businesses it was nothing but forests.  As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, most of the businesses in Covington didn’t exist and trees covered the land.  How it’s changed now!

If you get a chance, talk with a native of the area.  You might be surprised what you learn or what memories are conjured up from the depths of your mind about Covington and Maple Valley.

Back in the late sixties and early seventies, the only phone number prefix I knew of in the Covington area was 631.  But what a difference a few decades makes.  Today there are numerous prefixes used for people in Covington and the surrounding areas.  216, 220, 234, 308, 373, 395, 398, 478, 479, 487, 499, 630, 631, 638, 639, 656, 657, 685, not to mention the increase in prefixes due to the widespread use of cell phones.  And these prefixes cover just the Covington and Kent areas.  Check out this list for those within the 98042 zip code area.  (Prefixes) 

And that’s another story.  Zip codes have changed too.  It used to be 98031 when I was young.  Now you have 98030, 98031,  98032, 98035, 98042, 98064 and 98089.  Just think how many phone prefixes you’d find within all of those zip codes!

As the population grows, you can be sure that the phone prefixes and zip codes will increase too.  That’s what happens when a country town turns into a growing city.

Think about Covington today and how many different courses there are within a ten mile radius.

Druids Glen- Covington; Meridian Valley Country Club – Kent; Lake Wilderness – Maple Valley; Elk Run – Maple Valley; Washington National – Auburn; Jade Greens – Auburn; Auburn – Auburn; Fairwood Golf and Country Club- Fairwood; Riverbend – Kent; Maplewood- Renton.

Go beyond ten miles and the list grows exponentially.  (Click to see.) The game of golf is addictive and relaxing.  The scenery is beautiful, the air fresh and the challenge high.  If you haven’t visited any of the nearby golf courses lately, check one out and have some fun.  Covington isn’t far from a game of golf!

Living near Lake Morton I was bussed to KM daily.  That was quite a ride.  On the trip to and from home I saw a lot of scenery.  I remember riding along Kent-Kangley when they were widening it down between 132nd and Kent.  The road was very rough and dusty and it took several months to complete. 

KM was built in 1951.  (It’s on the building.)  I’m not sure when Kentridge was built, but they were our rivals throughout the time I was in school.  But those were the only two high schools for the Kent school district at the time.  Then, it 1982 KW opened.  Of course, that wasn’t enough.  Several years later Kentlake was erected and now serves many of the people in the Lake Sawyer and surrounding areas. 

Thinking about school starting soon I wonder if another high school is in the works for the Kent school district.  Growth continues and Covington and the surrounding areas continue to expand.  And another school year starts.

Eventually a large mobile home park was constructed and filled by people living there.  I think to myself about those families that grew up there.  Maybe they were raised in that park from infants.  Others may have moved in at some point and were either raised there or raised their own children there.  Whoever they might be, when they talk about their past, memories of that trailer park are embedded in their minds and hearts.  Many probably have pictures of the fun times they had there.  An entire chunk of life occurred within the confines of that park at some point in the past.  Real lives existed in that area.  Today, only memories drift inside the minds of hundreds of people who once inhabited that park.

As time went on, the park was closed.  I remember driving by one day and noticing signs indicating that the park would be shut down soon to make way for other “things.”  I figured it was businesses or something big and that construction would begin soon after the last resident was relocated elsewhere.  It has been many, many years since anything happened.  Now, in August 2010, something is beginning to come to life.  I don’t know what, but time will certainly tell. 

I wonder how those people felt when they were asked to find lodging elsewhere, to move out?  What if they were older folks on fixed incomes?  Where did they end up?  How about those families who were living life like we all do and one day are handed a notice that they have to move?  How would I have felt to have my roots ripped out and my life in an uproar?  I don’t know.  Now I wonder if any of those people might still live in the area and if so are they wondering what’s going to be built and why it took so long to do any building after they had been asked to move. 

The next several months should prove to be interesting as yet another change occurs in Covington where hundreds of people once lived.

A friend of our family built the tavern which stood for a few years.  I guess business did okay.  I was too young to go there and really didn’t care.  It eventually burned down and was never rebuilt.  I remember an empty lot and foundation sat for quite sometime before Walgreen’s was eventually built. 

So for those of you who answered as stated above, good job!  For the others who responded, well, perhaps you haven’t lived in Covington long enough to remember these old landmarks.  But by reading this blog and other historical information, you’re sure to learn more!  Stay tuned!

I know when I was growing up in Covington we buried more than one pet in our back yard.  A dog, some cats, probably a bird or two and maybe others.  It’s hard to say now, but I’ll bet if you did some digging in the parking lot behind city hall or behind the large doctor’s office next to the parking lot where our house used to be you’d find some bones of long-dead pets. 

And I wonder.  If we buried our pets, how many others buried theirs?  How many animals could you find were you to dig up say just the U-shaped streets of 168th and 169th Place next to Office Depot and city hall?  There were at least 20 or more homes there back in the 60′s and 70′s and many people owned pets.  Maybe a gruesome thought, but reality nonetheless.  Now add to that number how many pets might be buried in a ten-mile radius around Covington.  Hundreds, thousands?  Who knows. 

Eventually, those bones will be dust, part of the soil once again and no one will ever know what fuzzy domesticated creatures roamed the land decades ago.  But it is something to ponder, isn’t it?

In earlier posts I described the deadly intersection where Highway 18 crossed Kent-Kangley.  There was one blinking signal.  Red for those on Kent-Kangley, yellow for those travelling on Highway 18.  When improvements began to be made to Highway 18 and Kent-Kangley, signals were installed to control flow on and off of the highway and also onto 164th street by the Covington library.  All of these had to be synchronized to control flow in a smooth and non-congestive fashion.

When those signals were installed what criticism was heard around town!  Bumper stickers declaring ‘who in the world put four signals in a row in Covington’ were seen on many cars.  People discussed the ludicrous nature of such a move.  Comments were made that this was ridiculous and would never work.  I was young, but even so I thought it was a goofy idea to a point.  My biggest intrigue though was how would they sync such a complicated signal array.

Well, it worked.  In fact, it works well.  Everyone gets their turn.  It doesn’t back up too much.  And traffic flows.  Of course, since then other signals have been added within several hundred feet either side of these original four signals.  But I guess people get so used to seeing groups of signals at intersections such as this that when the other signals were added no one though twice about the need for more light control.  Maybe some day other signals will be installed as Covington continues to grow.

To many, the loss of power is frightening.  To others exciting!  I remember as a kid when the power would go out.  It was a bit scary, especially if the wind was howling outside the house, the windows rattled and every board and nail in the house would creak and groan as it strained against the onslaught of wind and rain.  Going down a dark hall to my bedroom or to use the bathroom was enough to give me goose-flesh.  Those were the times when I would do what I had to quickly so I could get back to the light and other people.

People tend to gravitate toward the light.  Think about it.  When the sun sets and darkness envelops the land, we all turn on lights to see.  We don’t like being in total darkness because we can’t see what’s going on and we feel helpless.  Light pulls us toward it. 

As a kid in Covington, there were the occasional street lamp and porch lights as well as a few lights on businesses to light the night.  So, when the power went out, the loss of that bit of light was bad enough.  However, today, there are so many lights on businesses, homes, street lights, signals at intersections, headlights on cars and more that when the lights go out it is REALLY dark!  Or so it seems. We are so accustomed to the light that a lack of such is instant and foreboding.  The darkness immediately covers the land light tar poured from the heavens. 

Without thinking, we immediately try to turn on light switches, use the microwave or oven, watch TV or anything else that requires electricity.  And then we remember that those things don’t work.  So, we pull out flashlights and candles and do the best we can whether it be playing games, reading a book or sitting around talking.  And if the power stays off into the night, it’s always shocking when at 3 a.m. the light switch we left on in the bedroom comes to life blinding us and reminding us of the storm that has passed. 

The next time the power goes out, think about our dependance on electricity and lumens.  And if it stays off into the night, go outside and look around.  You’ll soon realize how dark our planet can be as you gaze into the inky blackness of space and ponder your insignificance when compared to all creation around us.

I did my shopping, ten minutes worth, and arrived at the front of the store to see line after line of people waiting.  The registers had not rebooted.  I got in line and patiently waited.  After about 15 minutes several store managers and other “in charge” personnel appeared.  We were told that the server was not rebooting and the problem was being examined.  Eventually we were offered cookies and coffee while we waited.  Then we were told it could be another 30 minutes or more before the computer registers were back online.  Several people decided to leave.  I stayed. 

By now I had moved from fourth in line to the front of the now short line.  The cashier and I chatted for another 20 minutes while the computers rebooted and finally I was on my way. 

It made me think though how vulnerable the world is.  If such a minor glitch caused such havoc in making the entire store to come to a dead standstill, what would happen if it were major?  Almost everything depends on electricity and especially on computers.  If they go down then what? 

At least a few decades ago had such a thing happened, the cashiers would have easily pulled out a calculator or pen and paper and simply added up the cost of the price-tagged items.  Of course today, with everything labeled with UPC symbols, this would be a difficult, if not impossible, task.  And for all those who use debit or credit cards, how can you run these when the computers are down?  Back to good old cash or checks, which many don’t carry anymore. 

A vulnerable world?  You bet.  Will it happen again.  Absolutely!  Will the world crash someday because of our dependence on electricity and computers?  Undoubtedly.  It’s something to ponder.

Railroad Tracks

I wonder when the lonely sounds of the steam locomotive faded from the ears of the residents of Covington and the surrounding areas.  And when did the first blast of a diesel locomotive’s horn echo through the hills and valleys of Covington?

Ever since I was a kid I’ve heard the raucous blast of many a diesel-electric locomotive as it passed through Covington next to the Bonneville Power Administration (BPA) substation.  When I was young I heard them often.  Not just the cacophony of sound from Covington, but also from the tracks that cross 216th near Rooter’s at Lake Sawyer.  As time when on, the tracks were used less and less and for quite some time they weren’t used at all. 

Eventually, upgrades were made and the tracks were once again in use, but not as often as before.  Even today, on occasion I hear the distant whistle of a train passing through Covington. 

Back when signals and semaphores were used by the railroad more extensively than they are now (most are controlled by satellite today), my family would play a game when we crossed the tracks by the BPA.  The signal several hundred feet down the tracks would change from red to yellow to green or vice-versa.  Our game was always to guess what color it would be when we crossed.  I don’t remember what the winner or loser got, but it was always a highlight when we crossed that train crossing.

At one time, before the “no trespassing” signs were posted along the tracks and before the media highlighted the dangers and deaths due to people walking along railroad tracks, my dad and I did walk those very tracks in Covington.  We started at the intersection by Rooters and ended by the BPA.  I remember fearing a train coming down the tracks while we walked, but found the scenery and quietness exhilarating.  As a matter of fact, I believe a train did come by and I made sure I was completely away from the tracks as it passed.  Exciting, fear-inspiring and mind-imprinting, that short afternoon jaunt has stuck with me for years. 

The family that lives in the house next to the tracks in Covington has been there for years.  My dad has known them for many, many years.  I can only imagine what it must sound like when those long freight trains or other trains pass by that home on a dark, quiet night. 

I wonder for how long the trains will continue to pass through Covington on their way to the mountains?  Will those tracks be removed someday to leave a path that can be used as a trail?  Will more railroad traffic someday ply the rails?  Who really knows?

Giant Insulators

Sitting like a silent citadel surrounded by an ever-changing landscape, the Bonneville Power Administration (BPA) substation in Covington pumps out power ceaselessly day after day, year after year.

It has been a permanent fixture in Covington for as long as I can remember.  As a little kid, when trains plied the tracks next to the substation on a regular basis several times a day, I remember driving by the behemoth wondering what lurked inside.  The huge windows wherein you could see a monstrous crane, the myriad of cable, wire and steel pulsing with electricity, the helicopter that flew the skies  daily to check the status of the hundreds of miles of high tension wires, mammoth transformers sitting like giants in a pen of security, insulators bigger than a man that kept the electricity at bay like a lion tamer’s whip, a barbed wire fence surrounding the grounds with signs hung at varying intervals all gave indication of something massive, something intriguing, something dangerous and mysterious.  But there, day after day, calling to me, beckoning me to look inside sat the BPA substation. 

Then one day, I drove through the gate at the end of Wax road into the complex.  (Today that gate is sealed shut, blocked by huge blocks of concrete; no admittance.)  As a child, my parents took me on several tours of facilities to see how they worked.  The Rainier Beer Brewery, now gone.  The Sunny Jim Peanut Butter Factory, gone.  Weyerhaeuser sawmill, gone and many more.  So, here, in Covington, I wanted to tour something grand, something that had piqued my curiosity for years.  I drove to the front of the building and stepped inside. 

It was like stepping into an old monster movie.  Dials reading electrical output, wattage, amperage and other power related information.  Huge transformers, switches and machines.  Dazzling lights on display boards.  A room housing these items so vast it felt like you were inside a football stadium.  And, like every dam I’ve ever visited, a pristine environment housing it all.  A few workers sat around reading and monitoring machines and a man met me to talk.  I asked about taking a tour and he informed me that wasn’t possible.  I was disappointed.  I really wanted to learn more and see how this beast worked.  Electricity is fascinating and I wanted to ingest more information.  I left, still yearning for more. 

Today, those hopes are dashed due to the threat of terrorism and the like.  I don’t even think you can get into the complex anymore.  The gates are shut.  Access denied to non-employees. 

Yet, the substation continues to work, a vital link keeping Covington and many other cities running.  I wonder how much the inside of the substation has been updated with computers and other modern technology.  Does it still look “monstrous”?  Have they filled more of the open space with other instruments?  What has changed in the forty some years I’ve lived here?  If only I knew and had the power to change the forbidden zone of fascination into a learning experience.

For several years I worked for my father in his cleaning business and I distinctly remember cleaning one of those houses that sat about where the middle of the library parking lot now sits.  I remember driving by that area and seeing children playing, people going about their daily lives, cars parked in dirt driveways and life just happening.  When news that a library would be built there reached my ears, it was both exciting and disheartening. 

To see homes removed and progress taking over harkened the onset of an approaching city.  Eventually the homes were gone and the library stood in its place.  A few years ago it was completely remodeled. 

I must say it is a beautiful library and very convenient.  But to think back in time when Covington was just a dot on the map is always sobering.  Things will continue to change, but the memories will always live on.

For as long as I’ve lived here, I always remember the beautiful days in Covington.  The brilliant blue sky, the fresh air, the sounds of birds and small animals scurrying around, the smell of freshly cut grass, warmth from the sun; these are what I remember and enjoy. 

It’s no different today.  As I look out my window, the bright blue sky and warm February temperatures remind me of the beauty and enjoyment of living here.  It takes me back to a time when I was about ten years old.  It was summer.  I woke up to the sun streaming through my window.  My mom had the radio on and the song Leaving On a Jet Plane was playing.  I got up and the day was beautiful.  I played all day and enjoyed that summer sunshine.  That’s how I picture Covington, Washington.  I don’t think much about the rain and dreary days, it’s those bright sunny days that stick in my mind. 

And it seems we’ll have more just like today as our mild, warm winter continues.  Woo-hoo!  Sunshine in Covington!  Awesome!

I don’t remember why, but my dad had me ride with him and the neighbor to the hospital. Maybe it was for company.  I can’t recall.  I don’t remember much about the ride there and back either, but I’m sure we went to either Auburn hospital or Valley General.  (Now called Valley Medical)  Thinking about that made me consider how far Covington has come with regard to medical help.

Back then, those two hospitals were the closest medical facilities in the area.  Since Covington was a rural area there was not a demand for medical clinics or hospitals.  But as the population grew, so did the need for medical help nearby.

I remember when the Covington Multicare Clinic and Surgery Center was built almost two decades ago.  That was exciting!  A medical facility close, very close to home.  It became and still is a very busy place seven days a week.  With surgeries performed there, clinics of varying specialities, an Urgent Care clinic for after hours use and more, it is a very necessary part of Covington.  But it doesn’t stop there. 

Just down the street is the Valley Medical clinic.  Then by city hall there are specialty offices.  Next to Walgreens are more doctors offices and dental offices.  In Maple Valley at Four Corners are medical facilities.  And it keeps growing.  Now, Valley Medical and Multicare have applied for and sent in plans to build more.  Valley Medical wants to build a 24 hour emergency center and Multicare a larger hospital with emergency services and other specialties.  As time goes on and Covington continues to grow, I’m sure more medical clinics and emergency services with arise.

It’s a long way from when we took our neighbor 15 to 30 minutes away to get medical help.  Now, should someone have an unfortunate accident or need, medical help is just minutes away, maybe even seconds depending where in Covington you live!

Click here for a little history of Multicare including in Covington.

At that time, Kent-Kangley was a two-lane road.  It was lined on both sides by forests.  A few houses lined the road here and there either right on the shoulder of Kent-Kangley or perpendicular to the road and down a short dirt driveway.  Other than the grocery store and a few small businesses, Covington was very rural.  The sound of sirens always made me perk up. 

Somewhere around Walgreen’s or the complex by The Rock stood a few houses.  That’s where the sirens were headed.  For some reason, in my mind, the house was orange and white.  Maybe it was.  Maybe it wasn’t.  But that’s what I remember.  A few trees stood in front of it with a short sidewalk that ended at the shoulder along Kent-Kangley.  There might have been a small fence. 

My stomach churned and my heart beat faster as I heard the commotion of emergency vehicles converge in the area by the home.  I didn’t walk down there due to fear and being so young, but the flashing lights and the urgency of it all told me something was wrong.  Although the day was still light and warm, the sun set on my heart and mind as I wondered what terrible thing was going on.  A feeling of depression and sadness filled my soul and my wish to play waned. 

In an age before the Internet, instant news and the ability to find out in minutes what was going on, it wasn’t until a day or two later that I heard what had happened.  A young boy or teenager had left that home and crossed the street only to be hit by a car.  There were no crosswalks or lights.  To cross was a free-for-all.  You took your chances. 

The story I heard was that his body was thrown several feet through the air landing on the pavement nearby.  The mental images that formed in my mind and my imagination of the scene chilled me.  To hear those warnings from your parents from the time you can walk about not crossing a busy road and then seeing the consequences of their warnings is indescribable.  I don’t remember if the boy died, but something tells me he did.  For a long time, every time we drove past that house my mind conjured up images of the deadly scene.

To this day, when I read of stories of people crossing the street and getting hit and killed, I think of that boy and his family. Right here in Covington.  Years ago when the traffic was minimal.  A rural town.  Yet it happened.  I’ve been stupid enough to cross a road without using the crosswalk a few times, and my heart pounds when I think of how easily I could have gotten hit myself.  No matter how hard you look both ways, there’s always that car your mind and eyes didn’t see.  To imagine hearing the screeching of tires and the blare of a horn before that numbing crunch of your body against the grille is chilling.  May it never happen!

Some businesses and stores seem to identify or create a city’s importance or emergence on the map.  When McDonald’s arrived, I felt like we were somebody.  Covington was cool!  Of course, over the years, McDonald’s sitting on the corner of Wax Road and Kent-Kangley (SR 516 or SE 272nd St.) became a well-known and common establishment.  As the area grew and more people moved in, McDonald’s also showed up in Maple Valley by Wilderness Village and at Four Corners.  Now, once again, McDonald’s is re-emerging as “new and improved.” 

According to the sign, the new McDonald’s in Covington should open in the spring.  It will be all new except for a couple of walls from the old building that were left and built into the new building. It will be bigger, have a newer more modern look and will continue to be an icon on the corner of that busy intersection. 

I am waiting and excited.  When it opens, I’ll return once again to a fast-food chain that has been part of Covington for many years and probably will for decades to come! 

A friend of our family did many things in her life.  She was the type of person that didn’t sit still.  She was always moving, doing something, trying something new.  At one point in her life she built a tavern where Walgreen’s sits today.  I don’t remember how long it stood there providing liquor for customers, maybe five to ten years, but eventually it burned down. 

I remember it was basically a rectangular building constructed of bricks.  It was pretty simple, but it was definitely a drinking establishment.  Like many cities of the past, Covington had a grocery store, a few churches, a pharmacy and gas station and a tavern.  Those days are long gone, but pondering what was and now is makes one appreciate how quickly things can change in just a few short decades. 

Today if one wants a drink at a tavern, they would need to travel toward Maple Valley and stop by the Pla-Mor tavern across from Cherokee Bay.  Or, if you’re just looking for a Friday night spot to have a drink with friends that’s not a tavern-type establishment, there are several restaurants in the area that offer liquor.  Wherever one might go, truth be told things change!

Since the restaurant, and other businesses in that area have all been built on the land where several bike trails used to be, it is possible that I rode either through, past or on the very spot I was sitting eating dinner.  It’s strange how things change and time flows.  If I could travel back in time while I sat in the restaurant, would there be a point where my chair would be sitting right where I used to play?  I’ll never know.  But I do know it was that area where I used to relax with my friends when I was small.

Since our old house sat where the new medical building by City Hall sits now, looking at the area around that vicinity brings back a flood of memories of what used to be.  Those feelings and thoughts really come to the fore when I mention something about the area to others and they look surprised and say something like, “Really?  I didn’t know that!  You actually lived and played here?”  Although to them it is a fleeting comment lost in the haze of time, to me the memories solidify and coalesce in my mind every time I drive by.  I can’t help but think of how much has changed in 40 years!

I don’t know if there is a valid reason for this or not, but it still boggles my mind.  What is it?  Not making the main entrance to Cherokee Bay at the same intersection as 216th and Kent-Kangley where a stoplight with turn lanes now exist.

For years, there was no light there.  In fact, there were two entrances to Cherokee Bay.  The current “main entrance” and the blocked off entrance at the above-mentioned intersection.  The year they put in the signals I was ecstatic.  Finally!  A light, one entrance to Cherokee Bay, far less accidents from turning without a signal and one intersection for all roads. 

As construction progressed, my bewilderment increased.  Only three sets of lights?  Blocking off the road into Cherokee Bay?  No lights on that side of the street?  Improving the entrance to Cherokee Bay down the road from the new signals but still forcing vehicles to turn into the development without a signal?  Causing more congestion with a signal and separate entrance?  Increasing the odds of accidents or fatalities?  I didn’t understand.  I still don’t.

Why the main entrance to Cherokee Bay was not part of the changes that were made to Kent-Kangley and 216th baffles me.  Why didn’t the city or state mandate that it become the main entrance thus diminishing congestion, increasing life expectancy of drivers and passengers and creating a smooth intersection instead of creating more congestion?  Why didn’t Cherokee Bay step up to the plate and willingly work with these improvements for the sake of everyone, not just their development? 

Perhaps there was a good reason.  Perhaps I don’t have all the facts.  Suffice it to say that from all logical angles and from all perspectives of saving lives this intersection should have been designed as the only one for all roads involved instead of creating a potential deathtrap for anyone entering or exiting Cherokee Bay. 

Perhaps this will be corrected in the future?  I can only hope so for my family’s sake and for all others who use this road and the entrance to Cherokee Bay.

I watch the houses of friends in the neighborhood by city hall slowly go away.  I noticed today a house across from Office Depot is now boarded up, part of the roof missing and gone, the home ready for destruction.  I played there.  I was in that house hundreds of times.  I had dinner there, swam in a pool in the back yard where I heard horror stories of children drowning in larger pools.  I was probably eight or nine. 

One family I knew lived there.  They moved and another moved in.  We knew them too.  I grew up with their children.  That house was on the back side of some other friends house which sat across from city hall where our house used to be.  We would climb the fence in the back yard into the other yard and get yelled at by parents.  Or we could walk around the U-shaped street and spend an extra four minutes walking. 

As these homes disappear to make way for progress, memories of days past flash through my mind.  Only I will remember what happened in those empty lots when I was young.  At some point in the future, perhaps I’ll stand at such-and-such longitude and latitude which corresponds to the location of those old homes and find myself inside a mall, a restaurant, a parking lot or a business.  Who knows? 

The strange thing is the sensation of knowing what used to be and what will be in the future.

When I attended, the outside halls didn’t have locking doors on them as they do now.  Instead they were blocked off by large gates that you could peer through.  The gates didn’t go all the way to the roof though.  There was a gap of about three feet above those gates and it wasn’t unusual for mischievous youngsters and teens to climb over them to run the halls when no one was around. 

I also remember somewhere around fourth grade a new nature trail was constructed behind the school gym in the woods.  I don’t know if it still exists.  The classes would take mini field trips on this trail to enjoy the forest and learn.  Of course going on this trail alone was forbidden and it was pounded into our heads that strangers or other misfits of society could be lurking there just waiting to attack or kidnap us. 

The field out back was huge, or so it seemed when I was small, and climbing the banks in the far corners of the field which butted up against the forest was also forbidden.  Again, the same reasoning; the potential for children to disappear.  At least once for me and many times for others I remember the playground teacher yelling at us to get off the hill and back on the field.  To this day I can still feel the haze of fear instilled in us if we dared venture into the forbidden zones.

In the near future when this school disappears from the map, those memories will remain within the confines of my mind only to be accessed by the synapses and neurons that control my brain. Until that time comes, enjoy the school that has been there some forty years or more.  If your children have the privilege of attending there now, what kind of stories or memories will they take with them and recall when they are adults?

In December, QFC is closing.  That means the pharmacy will be gone too.  All those years of friendship with the owner, Jim and his many employees such as Wanda, Mary, Melanie, Connie and others will remain, but their physical presence will fade as they go their separate ways to work elsewhere.  I will miss them all but wish them the best.

It is sad to see a piece of Covington disappear, a piece that has been part of my life for some 40 years.  Although the building will be empty, quiet, dark; the memories that remain within those few hundred square feet of building will always swirl within my mind.  Future generations will never know about the people and businesses that resided there unless they hear the stories from people who lived in Covington at some point during the past 40 plus years.  Eventually, all that history will be found only in books or online. 

Preservation of such pleasant memories is a must because these are what  Covington is made of.

I can hear the funny cars, the smaller cars and the cars with jet engines.  (A quick spurt of energy and sound and the quarter-mile is done in a few seconds.)  Whether it be rain or shine, the races go on.

I’ve heard these sounds for over forty years.  The sounds cascading off trees and hills and reaching my ears in Covington.  And where do they originate?  Why from Pacific Raceways.  Of course if you’ve lived here any length of time you still say S.I.R. (Seattle International Raceways)  It’s a hard change to use the new name when you grew up with S.I.R.  Friends that live there still refer to it as S.I.R. 

I wonder.  If people have moved into that development or even into Covington in the last ten years or so and hear the term S.I.R. or even use that term, do they know what it stands for? 

The next time you hear that cacophony of sound emanating from the track in the trees, think S.I.R., or Pacific Raceway.

Now the question is, do you know where these housing developments are?  They’ve been around for a long time and some don’t even have a sign to identify them.  But if you’re an old-timer in Covington or Maple Valley, I bet you know.

Timberlane, Suncrest, Winterwood, Burwood, Waldheim Acres, Horseshoe Lake, 101 Pines, Heather Highlands, Highlands of Cedar River, Tall Timbers, Cherokee Bay, Arcadia, Fernwood or others. 

If you are a long-time resident others will know what you are talking about because most likely you refer to landmarks and housing developments by some of the names mentioned above thereby leaving others to wonder what in the world you are referring to.

Up until a few years ago, there was an area next to Suncrest and behind Kentwood high school that was all trees, fields and the Little Soos Creek.  That all changed when a large development called Coho Creek went in.  Although only partially complete, the development covers several acres.

In the past this area was a beautiful area of forests and fields.  Only a few houses were located on this property.  I remember one of the houses had a large pond which was filled by the Little Soos and full of fish.  It was very picturesque and lined by trees.  Farther back was a bridge that crossed the creek and a beautiful log cabin. 

About three years ago, I watched with sadness as the log cabin was torn down, the trees removed, the pond filled in and roads and utilities put in place of them to make way for several hundred houses over the next several years. 

I know that progress will always continue no matter what city you live in, but to see it go from a scenic wonder to asphalt and buildings is always sad.  The creek still meanders through the area, but the rest is history.

The driveway into the farm was about where the entrance to Fred Meyer is now.  At that time, the road was a little higher so the driveway dropped down into the home and farm.  Trees filled what is now a parking lot and shopping center.  A small white house and lots of goats filled the woods.  I don’t remember when, but eventually the goats disappeared. 

And speaking of animals, did you know there used to be a Mink farm on the Covington-Sawyer road just past the entrance to Crest Air park?  I can remember coming home many a night in the cool summer evening when the fog swirled low across the fields and the aroma of dead fish filled the air as this was the food given to the Mink.  That farm was there for a long time.  Then it became a field of old dilapidated buildings. Now there’s nothing left.

The scene changes, the smells fade, but the memories remain alive.