It’s still winter, officially at least, but we can think ahead, can’t we?
It’s too early to plant many vegetables, except maybe peas, but we can still pull weeds that haven’t seemed to stop growing much during the winter. We can also look ahead to such things as attending a few plant sales somewhere around the end of April. And, personally, I can hope for good weather on May 5 when I hope it’ll be nice enough to spend time under the tree in my backyard with my children and some good friends.
That’s the date when I’ll reach what some consider to be some sort of achievement: my 95th birthday, although more people are doing so all the time.
After that, the next big event will be the Fourth of July with the pleasure we missed for a few years during the height of the recent pandemic: the big parade on the main streets of Centralia, when the grand marshal will wave to the crowd from — hopefully — a convertible car with the top down.
I can remember seeing an old friend of mine — the retired English instructor at Centralia college, and columnist for the Chronicle, Gordon Aadland — and wishing I could some day do the same. Now, here’s where I’m going to be criticized by a few citizens, maybe even some friends, for what I’m about to write.
I am hereby boldly suggesting that my name be put on the list of citizens under consideration to be appointed to that grand marshal position.
Now, stop pretending to stick your finger down your throat. There is one overriding reason why I let that suggestion slip out of my mind, and it’s this: I believe that I, Bill Moeller, am the last and only person who still lives above the ground on the face of this earth who first served a five-year stretch in the United States Army — parts of which were in active contact with an enemy who fires back with active weapons — and who was also once named mayor of the city of Centralia by winning the votes of the proper number of Centralia citizens of said city and was not appointed to that position by six other members of the city council, the process that later became the method of running things.
Yes, I do believe I’m the only one still living!
I never said I was the best one, but my mother thought so and she had happy tears in her eyes when she sat in her wheelchair watching me taking the oath as mayor many years ago. Hey, I’ll drop to any low level if I can get my point across. At this point, I shall smile innocently and wait until I’ve learned what the group who chooses the parade’s grand marshal for this year has decided.
For the benefit of newcomers, my election was a strange one.
An instructor and another good friend from Centralia College, Frank Rosa, offered to run the campaign, but when all the votes had been counted, I had lost, but only by six of those votes.
Thus, that was enough information to make me think I’d probably have to return to what I had been doing as a “handyman” before the election: changing bathroom faucets, painting houses or even installing insulation under a house that had less than 3 feet of clearance above the ground.
Then, about five or six days later, the phone rang and the familiar voice of a former companion from radio station KELA — newscaster Jim Cook — said, “Good morning, your honor.”
What had happened was this: Lewis County has made a practice of holding out one or more mailed-in votes just in case some might be coming from out of the country, such as from members of the military.
This time there was only one envelope withheld, but it was a fat one mailed from a local nursing home. Inside the envelope were 10 officially valid votes, one of which wasn’t filled in as far as the mayor position went. But the other nine were all votes for William A. Moeller.
There were cries of “foul” from the opponent (sound familiar today?), but those were disregarded. So, instead of losing by six votes, I’d been elected by three.
Oh, one thing more before I close. After first losing being re-elected, I also eventually began serving a dozen or so more years on that seven-member city council myself. Well, whatever happens, I’ll see you on July 4 from one position or another, just maybe not from a convertible’s seat.
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Bill Moeller is a former entertainer, mayor, bookstore owner, city council member, paratrooper and pilot living in Centralia. He can be reached at bookmaven321@comcast.net.
