Cape Disappointment

The view from the North Head lighthouse at Cape Disappointment is one of the most spectacular on the Oregon/Washington coast. In good weather, you can see south across the mouth of the Columbia River, down the coast of Oregon and that's without even going up in the lighthouse. It looks over the bar, which is sometimes called "The Graveyard of the Pacific" because the dangerous coastal waters have claimed hundreds of ships. Sunday we drove to the coast, through Seaside and Astoria, across the long bridge over the Columbia River into Washington and on to the little town of Ilwaco where Leola was born. She hasn't lived there since 1929, but she returned often over her adult life to visit various relatives, some of whom still live there. Jon, having paid little attention to relatives over the years, was unaware of who it might be that lived there now. Leola was unable to tell him.

After having made the decision to move Leola to foster care, Jon decided he might not have another chance to take her where she keeps incessantly asking to go - Ilwaco. I told him I probably should have my head examined, but I'd go, too. We also felt compelled to go full circle with these pilgrimages having to do with her early years. Every day is a new day to her and no matter how often she has traveled on Oregon roads in the past, she reacts as though she is seeing it for the first time. Upon our arrival in Ilwaco, she didn't recognize it of course. The picture in her mind is the town in 1929 or even earlier. In the car, she said we needed to stop and ask someone.

Jon said, "What will you ask?"

"Where my house is", she replied.

"Mom, no one is going to know where your house was if you can't tell them an address." Jon said.

"Well, I'll ask them where the mill is. If I find the mill, I know I'll just turn left and go up the hill." She turns to me, "We had a Finnish bath house behind this house, you know. I wonder if it's still there?" I wonder.

Jon and I both knew the mill she was referring to was long ago torn down and she wouldn't be able to ask a coherent question to anyone. Jon had been to Ilwaco before, but not for many years and had little memory of any of what she was talking about. We decided to get out at the marina, walk around a little and get some lunch. The first opportunity she had, she walked into a gallery and asked the startled proprietor, "Where is Ilwaco?" "Leola, we are in Ilwaco. This is it." I said impatiently, trotting behind her. She didn't believe me and proceeded to babble away to this guy, making very little sense. Jon came in and explained that she had lived here during the 1920's. Fortunately, this guy was a 3rd generation Ilwaco native and very friendly. He patiently told her that very few buildings were left from her era except for some houses and we could see pictures of the town circa 1920 at the museum. He told us about some of the Finnish families who were still around town.

As we left the gallery a strange coincidence occured. Several people walking by said, "Leola?"

I recognized one of them as a someone I had met before. It turns out these people were the very relatives of Leola's I was referring to. It was her 80 yr. old cousin, Richard Patana, his wife and 2 of their daughters visiting from out of town. Leola didn't know them at first, but they convinced her of who they were. Jon was blown away by the serendipity of the situation. I was getting more and more irritable asking myself why on earth I had decided to make this trip and wondered what was in store for us the rest of the day.

One of the daughters, Deila, who lives in Beaverton, has spent a lot of time with Leola over the last few years. She took us to where the old house is and explained to Leola that no family lives in it anymore even though there is still a sign in front of it that says "Patana" which was Leola's mother's maiden name. Leola did not recognize the house. We all went to lunch, then said our goodbyes. Back in the car, Leola said, "We never saw the house." Jon knew he would need to take a picture of her in front of it or she would be saying that all the way back to Portland, so we went back. 'That's it?" she said. "It sure doesn't look like it. No, that's not the house." We've learned not to argue or try to convince her, but Jon said, "Come on Mom, let's take a picture." He took a picture of her in front of the house with the "Patana" sign visible.

As we drove the short distance to Cape Disappointment and the lighthouse, I couldn't help but wonder what this town was like when it wasn't a beautiful summer day. According to the visitor's center, it rains over 130 days a year with an average of 72" of rainfall. It also claims the largest number of hours of fog, 2,552, or the equivalent of 106 days! However, it's stunning beauty on this lovely summer day took my breath away. As Leola pointed out China Beach, she told us that's where she learned to swim. No wonder this is what she remembers.