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Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category

(Photo courtesy Jeff Stone)

   CHS hoops players are lifted up by the crowd after the 1969-1970 Wolves clinched a trip to state, the first in school history. (Photo courtesy Jeff Stone)

Our greatest generation of athletes are being shafted.

The further I dig into the history of Coupeville High School sports, it becomes increasingly obvious the 1970s were a golden age in Cow Town.

From Jeff Stone to Corey Cross to Bill Jarrell to Ray Cook and many, many more, the athletes of that decade carried teams to state, set records and won league titles.

But when you walk into the CHS gym, you would have no clue, because, when you look above the entrance way at the two rows of banners celebrating league titles and teams which placed at state, the first banner is from … 1990.

That’s right.

It’s as if no Wolf team in school history ever won anything until Ron Bagby’s football squad went undefeated in the fall of ’90.

That’s a lie, and a shameful one.

Why is it that way? There may be a thousand reasons, but we don’t have the time to debate who failed, or when they failed. Doesn’t matter.

Because, now, in 2016, we should be focused on something more positive.

We, the people, can fix this error. We can restore our forgotten legacy of sports excellence in the most public way possible.

It’s been 40+ years for those athletes of the ’70s, so they are now in their fifties or sixties.

The coaches of teams which won league titles in that decade, some of whom are still with us, are even older.

This is a situation which needs to be corrected NOW.

And it can be, if we work together.

Here is what I propose:

I ask the Whidbey News-Times to bend their rules slightly and allow me one day of access to their archives, which would offer the quickest and most concise way to determine what league titles Coupeville won in the ’70s.

This information is not on the internet, and pulling it together, piece by piece, as people unearth scrapbooks and moth-eaten score-books, will take forever.

I understand the refusal to let the general public go through the archives anymore, as the papers are old and, as they say, “they are our history.”

Emphasis on OUR history. Theirs, mine, yours. Ours, as a community.

I will wear the white gloves, if necessary. I will not bring food or drink in the room.

I wrote a whole bunch of articles which are in those archives. I understand the historical value (well, maybe not of my stories…) and will not act like an idiot.

If the News-Times overlooks my past poking of them and joins me in this COMMUNITY effort, once I know how many banners we would be talking about, I will sit down with school administrators and find out what the cost would be to have them made and hung.

At that point, I would propose that we, the people, come together and chip in whatever money is needed to do so.

Once we have a dollar amount, it would be as simple as setting up a GoFundMe page, and I feel secure that the members of Wolf Nation, near and far, would make it a done deal.

Later this year, probably right before graduation, CHS will be raising new title banners — boys’ tennis and girls’ basketball have won league championships in 2015-2016, and the school year is far from done.

When they do so, I would like to see them pay tribute to the past, as well, and raise banners to the teams of the past.

If we, as a community, work together, we can make it possible and make it so the school has little to do but say yes.

When next year’s freshmen walk into the gym for the first time and look up, they should see a long and lasting legacy of excellence reflected on those walls.

And when their grandfathers walk into that gym and look up, they should know their teenage glory days are not forgotten.

As Wolf fans, we owe them that much.

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Chris Chan (Photo courtesy Beverly Chan)

   These days he’s a dad, a coach and a member of the school board. But Chris Chan used to be a hoops star. (Photo courtesy Beverly Chan)

The last great run.

This March will make it 37 years since a Coupeville High School boys’ basketball squad won a game at the state tourney.

On Mar. 1, 1979 the Wolves bounced Montesano 62-51 for the second, and, so far, final victory on the big stage for the boys’ program.

The ’78-’79 squad, which was nipped 53-51 by Carroll on opening day, then bounced back for the W before bowing out 65-53 on day three against Nooksack Valley, joins the ’75-’76 team as the only CHS boys hoops teams to win a game at state.

They capped a run in which Coupeville made it to state four times in the 1970s.

Since that time period, only one Wolf boys squad has headed to the big dance, with the ’87-’88 team dropping both games it played.

As we wait for another CHS squad to catch the same magic, marinate in the photo above, which comes to us courtesy Beverly Chan, who ended up marrying the guy cutting down the nets in the newspaper article.

And, this thought just hit me.

The article clearly states the ’78-’79 team was the Cascade League champion.

Where is their banner on the CHS gym wall?

Every time I look up and see the first title banner being from 1990, I roll my eyes a little, because I know for a fact there were great teams well before that.

This is proof.

Dang it CHS, honor your past!

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(Photo courtesy Moose Moran)

The ’72-’73 Wolves in their prime. (Photo courtesy Moose Moran)

(Photo courtesy Bill Jarrell)

Off to the state tourney for the ’75-76 Wolves. (Photo courtesy Bill Jarrell)

Flash forward to the early '90s. (Photo courtesy the Randy King Archives)

   Flash forward to the early ’90s and we’re in color … but still in short shorts. (Photo courtesy the Randy King Archives)

Old school basketball, when fundamentals out-ruled showy theatrics, are known for one thing above all else.

Short shorts.

Today, when the shorts sometimes are so long and flowing they could pass as dresses, it might be hard for some to remember there was a time when basketball was a game of exposed thighs.

Take a trip in the Wayback Machine with these three photos — two from the ’70s and one from the early ’90s — and marinate in the sartorial beauty of it all.

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(David Svien photo)

  One of the bottles given out at the rally reminds us, “There is no life without water.”(David Svien photo)

(Stacie Clarke photo)

  While part of the crowd congregates in front of the jail, a man holds a protest sign at left. (Stacie Clarke photo)

Lori Taylor (Ken Stange photos)

Lori Taylor speaks to camera crews. (Ken Stange photos)

Marchers head up from the water towards the jail.

Marchers head up from the water towards the jail.

There are no winners here. Only losers.

Everyone involved lost something.

A son. A brother. A friend.

Reputations. Respect. Trust in our community.

When Keaton Farris died in the Island County Jail from dehydration, less than a mile from the Coupeville High School track he once ran on, it affected a great many people.

Lives have been shattered, on both sides, and who knows if they can ever be rebuilt.

For Keaton’s family and friends, there will always be an ache.

I know this.

I have lost my mother and father, one suddenly, violently, one slowly, agonizingly.

Life will go on, things will change, but there will always be a void.

And for the jailers under whose watch he died, I, for one, hope for some small grace for them.

If accidents happened, lives will be still be ripped apart. Jobs will be lost, reputations lost, maybe even worse.

And, if they allowed this to happen, if they refused to follow protocol, if they got pissed at a mentally ill man who was making their job tough, if they let Keaton die slowly (by choice or omission), they fully deserve to serve time in their own jail.

Without water.

But, when I say we have all lost, I follow this up with this — we are not lost.

Because what I witnessed Sunday was what needed to happen to begin to turn things around.

Call it whatever you want.

A protest. A memorial. A solidarity salute.

It was all those things.

Men, women, little children, babies, those who knew each other and those who were strangers, those full of anger, those full of sadness, those there for a story, those there because they live in this town and will not let it fall apart on their watch — they came together.

The parking lot next to the Coupeville Library went from one car to ten to overflowing and yet people still came.

They came from off the Island. They came from around the corner. They came from everywhere.

And when they marched, when they went towards Front Street, looking out at the vast expanse of water glistening in front of them, they went as one even though they numbered well over 200.

Some beat drums, some yelled in frustration, others murmured, others walked in silence.

But they went as one.

And on their arrival at the jail, a building you, I and every other person who lives in Coupeville passes daily without ever thinking twice about it, they circled it.

Eventually, after arms were stretched, and with encouragement creeping up and down the line and around the corners, we connected — one circle of people who had given up a bit of their Father’s Day Sunday because they wanted to, they needed to.

Family members would later talk to the camera crews, water bottles bearing the reminder “There is no life without water” would be handed out, a stream of cars going by would slow and honk their support, and, eventually, most of us would drift away.

Did it make a difference? Only time will tell.

No one from the jail came out, the sheriff didn’t make an appearance (that I saw) and the story will flare for a bit on the newscasts, then fade.

But Keaton’s memory will live on, and now through not just his friends and family, but through those who weren’t previously connected to him.

Pressure has been applied. Changes have to be made. And the world is watching.

If, in the days to come, people show the same commitment they did Sunday, there won’t be a need to come back again.

On an Island, in the middle of the water, in a country where water flows freely, in a town that I fully believe has a good soul and good people, every effort should be made to ensure this never happens again.

When we are one, we are strong. When we are one, we will make things right.

We were one Sunday.

Don’t lose that. Ever.

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Stacie "Farm Dog" Farmer

Stacie “Farm Dog” Farmer

Farmer with Wolf softball teammates Andrea Larson (center) and Laura Crandall.

Farmer with Wolf softball teammates Andrea Larson (center) and Laura Crandall.

Today, 28 years ago, Stacie Farmer was born into the world, and joy exploded into the universe.

Today, four years ago, Farm Dog, unable to overcome injuries suffered when she was hit by a car while crossing a road on her bike, passed away on her birthday with her family and loved ones by her side.

Her joy still touches every part of the world.

Stacie’s tale, of a bright-eyed child who embraced life and everything it had to offer, who met each and every person, each and every challenge, with a huge grin and an open heart, will never be dimmed.

From far-flung mountain tops to the rivers of West Virginia, from a table at Miriam’s Espresso to the Coupeville High School softball field, her memory lives on through each and every person who ever met her.

We all carry a bit of Stacie inside of us, whether we knew her in passing or were a huge part of her life.

She radiated joy in everything she did.

In the brief years she had after Coupeville, she traveled the globe, dreadlocks bouncing in the sun, her epic smile preceding her arrival.

Little kids. Senior citizens. Extroverts. Introverts. Friends. Complete strangers. Didn’t matter. She approached everyone with an open heart.

At the time of her accident, she was having a great time working as a river rafting guide.

Another job around the same time she described as “I get paid to chill with kids and their sticky jam hands too.”

On this day, the sense of loss will be overwhelming for many.

Not only was someone lost, but someone who was doing so much good with her life. Someone who was having such an impact on others.

Someone who, without a doubt, deserved to continue on for many, many years.

The world is not the same without Stacie Farmer.

Everyone mourns in their own way. No one should be told how to deal with their loss by another, and, as always, my deepest sympathies go out to her family.

But, on this day, which was a day of both great joy and heartbreak, I hope as many people as possible will choose to embrace the sparkling spirit that drove Farm Dog.

Celebrate her life and all her accomplishments.

Simply smile at someone. Be friendly to a stranger. Tell those close to you how you feel about them.

Do whatever small thing you can to make life better for others. Spread Stacie’s gospel of love and joy.

Embrace her favorite saying and then actually live it through your actions.

Bhavuta sabba mangalam — may all beings be happy.

Stacie was happiness, a bright, burning ball of never-ending happiness.

Nothing has dimmed that. Nothing will dim it. Ever.

We can’t, and won’t, let that happen.

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