Several years ago, my best buddy from childhood days was in Wallace with his wife, so I arranged to meet them there. My buddy's wife was not from Wallace, nor was she from Northern Idaho, but she had heard all of our stories. As a matter of fact, I kind of felt sorry for her because anytime my friend and I got together, we spent countless hours going over the triumphs, the tribulations, and the uniqueness of growing up Wallace.
We decided that the three of us would visit the Oasis Bordello Museum. Now, if you don't know what that is, well, you can do your own googling.
Let's just say that this was not the type of place that our mother's would approve of. The oasis was far from being the only establishment of this type when I was growing up in Wallace. Not only did we have them, we were very proud of them. Wallace’s Cedar Street special industry landed a spot in the NY Times, a network news show, and on and on. I was once stopped on the street by some bankers from NYC who were in town for some business with the mines, and theyy inquired about the"houses" were, and was it true that we had them?? I loved playing the sarcastic tour guide, and responded. “Why don't they have any hookers in NY?"
Anyway, as my friend and I and his wife were walking up the stairs to visit the museum, we were chatting about how sad it was that the "houses" were all gone. My friends' wife turned to and said. “You two know, don't you, that this is not normal, and that you did not have normal childhoods growing up in Wallace".
Normal? Maybe not, but I would not trade it for anything