The trials of having a non-plateau husband | Jen Anderson

As a result of marrying a non-native-to-the-Plateau, giving directions and describing locations around town has occasionally been a test of marital communication. The landmarks of the pickle factory, Pete’s Pool and the old junior high have all been a source of mild contention at times. I may have accidentally referred to Coast to Coast, as well.

The following is written by columnist Jennifer Anderson:

As a result of marrying a non-native-to-the-Plateau, giving directions and describing locations around town has occasionally been a test of marital communication.

The landmarks of the pickle factory, Pete’s Pool and the old junior high have all been a source of mild contention at times. I may have accidentally referred to Coast to Coast, as well.

If you are an indigenous Plateau person, it would seem absurd to refer to the building on the corner of 284th and state Route 410 as anything but the pickle factory. Does anyone even know, or more importantly, even care, what happens at that site now? The vinegar-filled vats have long since been gone, but my Pavlovian reflex causes me to still crave hamburger relish as I descend the hill after the Crystalaire Mobile Home Park and approach the stop light.

As for Pete’s Pool, I never actually swam in it, but it is rumored that my mother, aunt and uncle learned to swim there. I also hear that it prepared them to survive arctic water temperatures if they ever happen to be in a modern day Titantic crash. I do remember a giant empty rectangular concrete pit surrounded by a chain link fence that was eventually torn down and filled in. That does not prevent me from describing the field house, football field and nearby baseball field as “Pete’s Pool.” It’s sort of like calling “facial tissue” Kleenex. A brand name of sorts.

I did not attend the old junior high but it is a vital piece of our family history and therefor important to be referred to as such. My parents met there in 1966 when my dad moved to Enumclaw and attended EJH as a ninth-grader. Clearly, the rest is history….

It also is the site of the first and only time I’ve seen an actual wrecking ball in action (and Miley Cryus was not perched on top of it.) At the time of the building’s demolition, my babysitter lived nearby, so we walked down to watch the action. I vividly remember that giant gray ball smashing through the brick wall of the gym. We could see the wood floors splinter and the basketball hoop crash down. It was kind of mesmerizing to see a real life LEGO destruction happen right before our eyes!

Needless to say, my husband looked at me like I was speaking crazy talk when I described the location of the old junior high. He actually asked me, “Do you mean the skate park?” Um, no. I mean the old junior high.

As we enter into our 15th year of marriage, my non-native-to-the-Plateau husband has acclimated well to our community and to me. I have become more tolerant of him not knowing where important places like the Highclimber are and he has become more tolerant of my nonsensical descriptions and running into people I know in every aisle of the grocery store. He really is pretty easygoing. So if you run into him at Gateway or Cutter’s Supply, feel free to give him a hug, a handshake or a high-five for making it through 15 years by my side. He deserves it.