Two Grand Old Ladies

As my readers know, I managed hotels for over 30 years, and I loved every minute of it. The hotel that launched my career was the Carlton Hotel in Tacoma, WA, where I worked while I was attending college in Kirkland, WA.

While looking at some old pictures today, I was struck with the resemblance of the grand Samuel's Hotel in Wallace, and the Carlton in Tacoma. Here they are, side by side.

The grand lady, The Carlton Hotel

The Samuel's Hotel Wallace, Idaho

PS The Carlton still stands but is no longer a hotel, but our beautiful Samuel's was torn down in the 1980's

Carlton Hotel Revisited-Tommy and the Fudge

Back to the old Carlton Hotel for a few minutes today. Early in my blogs, I spent some time talking about the Carlton Hotel in Tacoma. For some reason I dreamed last night about one particular old man that lived there when I was there in the early seventies. If you remember, the Carlton, at that time had deteriorated to the point that the once grand lady was little more than a huge flop house. But, it was my first hotel job, and I loved it.

There was an old man with wispy white hair and a smile that could light up the darkest room, who walked up to me and shook hands with me on my first day on the job.He stuck out his hand and said that his name was Tommy. Tommy was dressed in an old overcoat that had seen much better days, but I could tell that Tommy still had a lot of pride by the manner in which he dressed. Yes, the white shirt cuffs were badly frayed, and the dress slacks needed pressing, but overall his appearance was that of a dignified old grandfather.

It was the week before Christmas, and the air definitely had a Jack Frost bite to it. The owner had put up a Christmas tree in the lobby, and there was a certain holiday feeling, but it was mixed with the feeling of something long past, and something that could never be again.

 My mother had sent me a care package from home. Ah yes, my favorite, home made fudge. You know the kind. None of this store bought mix. Nope, genuine, fudge made from the richest, darkest, chocolate.

Oh, it was so good. I took some to work with me that evening. As was his usual custom, Tommy walked up to the desk to greet me.I decided to ask Tommy if he would care for a piece of homemade fudge. Flashing that 1000 watt smile, he said that would be nice.

I cut off a large square of my prize, and gave it to Tommy. I watched in amazement as he took a bite, and tears filled his old eyes. It was as if the windows of his past were laid open for me to see, and in those tears, I saw Tommy's flash back to his own childhood, and a warm kitchen, a Christmas Tree decorated with home made decorations, and a fire in the old wood  stove that spread it's warmth and holiday cheer through the old house.

Tommy ate every crumb of that fudge with great care and dignity. When he was done, he smiled at me and said that was the best present that he had in years.

I never saw or heard from Tommy after I left the Carlton. I heard a rumor that he had pneumonia and was very ill. Of course, that was years and years ago. But, last night , Tommy visited me in  my dreams, and was still talking about that fudge.

November Stories

Was he or wasn't he a guest at the Carlton Hotel? I don't know for sure, and the people who did know, or at least thought that they knew, are probably staying in the Grand Hotel in the Sky now. When I first went to work in the Carlton, one of the first stories that I was told by both guests and employees was that he had been. Let me take you back in time for a little history lesson.The date? November 24, 1971. The place? Somewhere in the skies between Portland and Seattle

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On November 24, 1971, Northwest Orient flight 306 taxied down the runway of Portland International Airport and took off in the rainy, darkened evening skies bound for Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. It was the night before Thanksgiving, and no doubt the passengers and crew were dreaming of grandparents, children, parents, friends, and turkey as they flew through the darkened rain-soaked skies. At least that is what most of them were dreaming about. The middle-aged man, dressed in a black raincoat, dark suit, and white shirt  sitting in seat18C must have had other dreams and thoughts on his mind.

I am quite confident that most of the passengers were sure that the plane would touch down on time, and that they would leave the plane in the usual manner where they would be hugged and kissed by waiting loved ones. The man in 18C probably was  also wondering  what he would see and encounter as he stepped off of the plane. There was one big difference between him and the other passengers on the 727 that night. This man had no intention of exiting the aircraft in the usual manner, He would not be welcomed by loving arms, and throngs of Holiday travelers at SEA-TAC Airport. Instead, he would be welcomed by freezing temperatures, cold black air, and probably death when he stepped off of the plane that night. His name? You probably know him as DB Cooper, or Dan Cooper, the name he used to board the plane that cold, November night.

If you are not familiar with the story of DB Cooper, I urge you to Google the name and read everything that you can about the man and the night that changed aviation history. It is a fascinating story, and there are many myths and legends about that famous night.Who was he? Did he survive the jump that night? What did he do with the money? Was the man who told his wife on his death bed that he was DB Cooper the real guy or was it the man who lived in Bonney Lake Washington who was the real DB Cooper? Maybe it was the man from Utah that a movie was made about. None of us know for sure, and only that only adds to the legend from November 24, 1971.

I went to work at the Carlton on December 17, 1971, only about three weeks after this famous nights. The people at the Carlton were still buzzing with what they perceived as truth that DB Cooper had been a guest at the Carlton Hotel just days before his famous night. According to the guests, the FBI had been all over the hotel looking for clues.

I don't know for sure that he was or had ever been a guest at the Carlton.We did not require picture Id's in those days to register. But, for some strange reason, I feel a special bond with DB Cooper because I feel that he had been in the Carlton, and I could feel his presence. Maybe it was just my imagination, or maybe it isn't. I do not know for sure any more than the FBI knows who he was or if he survived that historical night.

If he was a guest, then there was a room at the Carlton that knows for sure. There are walls that stared at him as he plotted his destiny. If only those walls could talk, for only they know for sure.

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Carlton Hotel Revisited-Tommy and the Fudge

When I was working at the Tacoma Carlton Hotel in the early seventies, the once beautiful hotel had deteriorated to the point that the former grand lady was little more than a huge flophouse. But, it was my first hotel job, and I loved working there.

There was an old man with wispy white hair and a smile that could light up the darkest room, who walked up to me and shook hands with me on my first day on the job. He stuck out his hand and said that his name was Tommy. Tommy was dressed in an old overcoat that had seen much better days, but I could tell that Tommy still had a lot of pride by the manner in which he dressed. Yes, the white shirt cuffs were badly frayed, and the dress slacks needed pressing, but overall his appearance was that of a dignified old grandfather.

It was the week before Christmas, and the air definitely had a Jack Frost feel. The owner had put up a Christmas tree in the lobby, and there was a certain holiday feeling, but it was mixed with the feeling of something long past and something that could never be again.

My mother had sent me a care package from home. Ah yes, my favorite, homemade fudge. You know the kind. None of this store-bought mix. Nope, genuine, fudge made from the richest, darkest, chocolate.

Oh, it was so good. I took some to work with me that evening. As was his usual custom, Tommy walked up to the desk to greet me. We had developed a friendship in the week since I had started working there.

I decided to ask Tommy if he would care for a piece of homemade fudge. Flashing that 1000 watt smile, he said that would be nice.

I cut off a large square of my prize and gave it to Tommy. I watched in amazement as he took a bite, and tears filled his old eyes. It was as if the windows of his past were laid open for me to see, and in those tears, I saw Tommy's flashback to his own childhood, and a warm kitchen, a Christmas Tree decorated with homemade decorations, and a fire in the old wood stove that spread its warmth and holiday cheer through the old house.

Tommy ate every crumb of that fudge with great care and dignity. When he was done, he smiled at me and said that was the best present that he had in years.

I never saw or heard from Tommy after I left the Carlton. I heard a rumor that he had pneumonia and was very ill. Of course, that was years and years ago. But, last night, Tommy visited me in my dreams and was still talking about that fudge.