At the birthday party of neighbor Joyce Poffenroth (seated)
As a young child, I was always looking for ways to make money and the only people from whom I could do that were those closest in proximity: my family and my neighbors. A golden opportunity came my way one summer day around 1965.
Senator Henry M. “Scoop” Jackson was about the same age as my grandmother, but was actually first cousin to my great-grandmother, Marie Alvenes, who had emigrated from Norway in 1905. Scoop’s mother and Marie’s mother were sisters, but Marie’s mother had stayed in Norway, so having a relationship with her aunt was all the more important. Marie visited her aunt whenever possible, which meant my grandmother grew up knowing Scoop well and, therefore, so did my mother. Scoop was living in Everett, had been married a short time, and was giving a speech in Edmonds, so called my mom to see if he could drop by to introduce her to his wife, Helen, whom mom had not yet met because they had been living in D.C. The time was set up and Mom came outside to tell my sister and me that he’d be stopping by and that we were to be on our best behavior.
Mom heard his car pull up into the driveway at the appointed time, but several minutes went by and he hadn’t come to the door, so she went outside to investigate. What she found was a line of neighbor kids in the driveway, each giving me a quarter and then shaking his hand. Although Mom says she was embarrassed, she wasn’t particularly surprised and—lucky for me--Scoop was laughing good-naturedly through the whole process.