Who ARE these people?

Bill went to Coeur d'Alene last night to give one of two presentations that have dominated his waking hours for the past six weeks. At last night's Society of American Foresters (SAF) meeting, he teamed up with his longtime friend and former colleague Dewey Almas to talk about the flora of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. He even had pictures of some of those plants which have been preserved and on display at Idaho State Museum.

His next presentation comes next weekend with the Native Plant Society. Surprisingly, he's not going to talk about those Lewis and Clark samples. Instead, he'll discuss the Humbird Mill which dominated the logging and sawmill scene in this area back in the early 1900s.

The mill was located along the Northwest shore of Lake Pend Oreille in what's called Timber Bay and stretching from Sandpoint to Kootenai. Its owner was one of the timber magnates from the Midwest who came West in search of white pine to harvest---and harvest they did until 1931 when the company liquidated and left town. Bill will tell about the influence this family had in Bonner County through employment and land holdings.

While Bill was telling his fellow foresters about 200-year-old plants last night, I joined Rose Marie and several Thompson family members (thanks again, Judy) to the Panida Theater where we watched a dramatic display of rhythm and dance, Japanese style. The Somei Yoshino Taiko Ensemble came to town from San Francisco.

As the program states: Taiko (Japanese for 'drum') is more than just a muscial instrument and it involves more than just striking a drum skin. It is an art and a fusion of movement, rhythm, philosophy and form whose history has been an important part of the everyday lives of the Japanese people. The idea of becoming one with the drum is a fundamental part of taiko.

Well, a packed house saw all of the above last night. The program was, indeed, remarkable and breath-taking as the two men and two women kept the audience spellbound throughout the performance, which involved, at times, nearly a dozen drums of different sizes and tones. Even the set changes involved second-by-second precise choreography.

We had a lot of time before the performance and during the intermission for visiting and people-gawking. Of course, the latter is always interesting for me, and I must say that a new wave has definitely descended upon Sandpoint. I could probably count a couple of dozen familiar faces in the crowd. Rose Marie, who just moved here permanently last May, seemed to know just as many audience members as I did.

I've noticed this phenomenon several times in the past couple of weeks while socializing in the downtown sector. A couple of weeks ago, Bill and I considered dining at Eichardt's. We walked in the door, through the crowded restaurant/bar, saw that no tables were available and noticed that we did not know one soul inside the premises. So, we headed on down the block to Arlo's. We knew the owner but that was all until my classmate Dann Hall walked in just before we left.

Earlier this week, Rose Marie and I had lunch at Cafe Trinity. In this lunchtime crowd, I spotted all of two faces who looked familiar. Sure enough upon walking over to those ladies by the window overlooking Sand Creek, I happily knew the names: Holly Remmers Wood and Lila Nordgaarden Peterson (please note 'Holly Wood').

Both women graduated from Sandpoint High School a year behind me. Lila works in the county licensing bureau. Holly's mother Barbara used to manage the Sandpoint Chamber of Commerce when it was located in Community Hall. I hadn't seen Holly, now an Oregon resident, for a long time, so this meeting offered a double bonus----a friendly face from the past and two people I actually knew in downtown Sandpoint.

That phenomenon of unexpected recognition is becoming more the rule than the exception these days, and it has happened so fast. Often, people like to tease me by saying, " you know everyone." Well, a couple of years ago that might have been sorta true----not anymore.

Lots of unfamiliar faces are staking their claim on our old Humbird logging town these days. That huge mill just up the creek and over the railroad bed from the Panida Theater once employed a majority of the new residents who'd moved here early in the Twentieth Century, primarily from the Midwest. They came to this unknown, remote, rough-shod place so long ago, looking for a better life and grubbed out a town around the railroads, the lumber industry and a rural economy.

I have a feeling most of the folks I saw last night enjoying their evening of Japanese culture at the Panida Theater are not associated with any of those entities. And, I have a feeling a whole new chapter in Sandpoint's existence with another cast of interesting characters is unfolding.

It also looks like I've got a lot of work to do if I'm gonna uphold my reputation of "knowing everyone."