By the time you read this, if the weather hasn’t improved yet, it sure should have.
It’s time to think of spring activities and, for many, that means it’s time to ignore the mud on the trails and head for the top of the Seminary Hill Natural Area in Centralia.
For the benefit of those who have moved here in the past dozen years or so, here’s a (hopefully) short treatise on its history. Old-time citizens may return to their TVs at this point.
Old growth timber had been thoroughly logged on the hillside by not much later than the beginning of the last century. I haven’t learned exactly when the City of Centralia became the owners of it, but it wasn’t much after that.
The city was growing and needed a source of dependable water for its citizens. At first, that source was the Skookumchuck River, and the water was pumped up to a flat site on the hill near where the large metal tank stands today, but much illness among citizens brought on the need for a better source.
Centralia and Chehalis joined forces and obtained permission (which, I believe, both may still have) to draw water from the north branch of the Newaukum River. Water was then piped approximately 40 miles through locally manufactured large wooden pipes to both cities.
The delightful sip of a mountain stream lasted until both cities began drilling for their water instead. The water may be treated and cleaner today, but it sure doesn’t taste as fresh and good as this old duffer would like to remember.
Then, the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services — or DSHS for short — decided that an open pond was not a safe place to store drinking water and demanded that a covered tank of some sort be installed. That would take more money than the city had at the time.
By the time I became mayor of Centralia (Jan. 1, 1980), the cry was to cut all the timber on the hillside to pay for it. (By the way, may I insert at this point that I am, today, the last living former mayor of Centralia who was voted into that position by the citizens instead of by the City Council? Hey, at the age of 95 next month, I have a right to brag.) Anyway, enough local opposition to that solution resulted in the ability to acquire various grants and other sources to build the tank and save the hill.
It had long been used by a few local organizations, most frequently by local Girl Scouts, through the efforts of Stellajoe Staebler, who lived on the upper edge of the property and who for years led Girl Scout camping in a clearing, and whose name appears on the only presently constructed building on the property.
Her husband, George, was head of the Weyerhaeuser operations locally. He eventually changed his stand of logging it and using the money for the required water tank. To this day, I credit her with saving the hill, even though I had suggested in city council meetings — which George attended frequently at the time — that it was too valuable a piece of property to destroy and, instead, would make a wonderful “learning site for potential logging enthusiasts.”
In spite of the fact that it has never been an official park from the beginning, one by one, people began leaving the only available trail and heading off through the woods, resulting in more trails, all of which now have their own name.
Individual efforts have always been a part of the “park’s” success, including David Jensen for personal maintenance of trails and construction of those rusti resting places along them, among others.
But understand — you newcomers — that it’s not a park!
The property still belongs to the City of Centralia and any transfer of ownership (to the Parks Department, for instance, which would be logical, and where many people think it already resides) would have to be done at the appraised price of the land today. Who can place (or afford) such a value on the most delightful local spot to spend an hour or two relaxing when the world seems to be pressing you too hard?
You may ask, “where is it?”
For years, it was tucked away almost secretly, but there’s now a small or maybe medium sign at the entrance of “Seminary Hill Natural Area” on Locust Street. And where’s Locust Street? Well, most of it is now called “Centralia College Boulevard,” But just ask a native Centralian. We don’t bite.
It’s free, though, and available to anyone.
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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.
