Decades ago (which makes me feel super old), while attending the University of Washington, I joined a dozen other journalism students for the legislative session in Olympia, where we each worked as an intern for a Pacific Northwest newspaper.
We were under the tutelage of William F. “B.J.” Johnston, an impressive former Lewiston (Idaho) Tribune newspaper editor and founder of the UW reporting internship program. He was infamous for his red pen bleeding all over our white pages of text, and I still channel his sage advice regularly in my writing critique groups.
I interned for The Columbian in Vancouver and worked directly with former Seattle Times reporter Marcia Wolf, who still lives in Olympia today. She told me the Columbian’s editor believed in being hard on interns because they’re overconfident and cocky.
That may have been true of others, but it certainly didn’t apply to me. I trembled at my insecure core the first time I approached strangers in Woodinville to ask their opinions about an issue, and the idea of living alone in Olympia and interviewing lawmakers sent jolts of fear through me.
When I gathered for our initial meeting with state officials and lawmakers, one person stood out, so much so that I can still recall his kindness decades later. That person was Washington Secretary of State Ralph Davies Munro, a kind man who treated interns as respectfully as he did the governor. He made a point of introducing himself to each of us, asking questions and behaving like a real person.
I was in awe speaking to the Washington secretary of state. Of course, I was still an idealistic political science and communications major impressed by the idea of politicians (before I met a bunch of them).
But Munro, who passed away on March 20 at the age of 81, remained as kind after leaving office as he was to that poor quaking reporting intern decades ago.
And he wasn’t just nice to me.
Jan Rockwell Nontell, of Centralia, recalled visiting the Capitol with her son, Phil, when he was 3 or 4 years old. His father was working late as a doorman for the House of Representatives, so she and Phil set off to explore.
“We wandered around and ended up in the Senate gallery,” she recalled. “I was doing my best to keep an energetic, curious little one from climbing all over the benches, but Phil had other plans. That’s when a friendly, dignified gentleman approached us. I tried to stay focused on managing Phil as the man introduced himself as Ralph Munro. He told Phil that this was his ‘work house,’ and if Phil wanted to climb on the benches, it would be fine with him.
“Before I knew it, they were laughing together, and Munro invited Phil to take a seat at one of the Senate desks. Phil loved it, and Mr. Munro was so kind to him. There was no decorum, no stiff political atmosphere — just a little boy having the time of his life, with a kind gentleman, while waiting for his daddy to finish work.”
Munro, who was born on June 25, 1943, in Seattle, graduated from Western Washington University and worked as an assistant to Republican Gov. Dan Evans in the 1960s and 1970s. He ran for secretary of state as a moderate Republican, a post he assumed in 1980 and held for five consecutive four-year terms, retiring in 2000. The state’s longest-serving secretary of state championed causes such as orca protection, voting expansion, disability rights, immigration, international trade, polio education and historic preservation.
“I remember Ralph for his advocacy for people with disabilities and his love of history,” said Edna Fund, a former vocational rehabilitation state worker, Centralia City Council member, and Lewis County commissioner.
In fact, he arranged for the filming of two Lewis County landmarks — Jackson Courthouse and Claquato Church — and recounted a bit of their history on his “My Favorite Places” TVW program.
He also helped start the Wednesday morning Heritage Caucus meetings held during the legislative session to share information about the state’s history and efforts to preserve it.
“A few weeks ago, I planned to stop and see him, but my timing changed,” Fund said. “Oh, how I wish I had made that visit work in my schedule.”
Tributes to Munro have rolled in since his death, and I’m adding mine to honor the statesman who left people feeling good about themselves and life.
I last saw him in 2017, when Munro joined state Parks Department staff to celebrate rehabilitation of the Jackson Courthouse at Mary’s Corner. He cut the ribbon to unveil the historic preservation effort.
At the time, Munro said, “So much of our state’s history lies in this yard and this building. If we don’t understand our past, then we have no idea of how to conquer the future.”
Then in 2019, before I published Washington Territory’s Grand Lady: The Story of Matilda (Glover) Koontz Jackson, I sent him an early copy, asking if he’d be willing to read it for a possible endorsement.
Of course he did. That’s what gracious gentlemen do.
“This book is a ‘must read.’ It tells the incredible and exciting story of one woman's journey on foot across the plains to the promised land of Oregon Territory. In many ways, Matilda Koontz Jackson could be described as the ‘first lady’ of Washington state. She watched it all unroll in front of her eyes, and she played a significant part in making our life what it is today. The book is well written and documented with many details that the other historians have missed. Frankly, I loved the book and recommend it to all. Readers will not be disappointed!”
Reading his endorsement brings tears to my eyes. This man who put a scared little intern at ease endorsed a labor of love on my part. He admired Matilda Jackson as much as I did. He also noted in 2017 that everybody talks about her husband, John R. Jackson, but he liked to look at the past through her eyes — “and what a pioneer for our state she was.”
It matters how we treat people while we’re living life, because that’s what others will remember most when we’re gone. Munro treated people with kindness and respect, a lovely legacy lingering in the minds of those who knew him.
As an aside, while researching this column, I looked up the obituary of my old journalism mentor, B.J., who died in 1990, and discovered that this native of Medicine Hat in Alberta, Canada, who grew up on a wheat ranch moved to Centralia in 1923, where his father worked as a logger.
Even though he was only a child, imagine the stories he heard about the Armistice Day conflict between American Legion veterans and the Industrial Workers of the World, or Wobblies, in 1919. I especially wish I could talk to him now with the dawning publication of my second historical novel, Shattered Peace: A Century of Silence, which focuses on that altercation.
Even so, B.J. had a hand in the novel’s creation because he mentored me as a writer, just as Munro played a role in publication of Washington Territory’s Grand Lady by giving me the title during his remarks in 2017 when he said, “In so many ways, she was the first lady of the territory.”
Learn more
Hear Ralph Munro talk about local historical sites on his “My Favorite Places” TVW program:
• Jackson Courthouse: https://tinyurl.com/yc3tcduz
• Claquato Church: https://tinyurl.com/2fd954xa
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Julie McDonald, a personal historian from Toledo, may be reached at memoirs@chaptersoflife.com.
