In its heyday (early 1930s), Weott was quite a community. It had three motels, two garages, three gas stations, two stores, three restaurants, two bars, a theatre, a barbershop, a meat market, and a church. The majority ofthe people were woodsmen — who made redwood ties, stakes and posts. There were tan-bark peelers, wood cutters, truckers and ranchers.

I can remember:

Walt Schelling, who had the big dance hall and apple orchard. He shipped apples to a dryer in Sebastopol.

Mac Willet, who had a grocery store with everything from chicken feed and barley to hard tack candy in the big glass containers on the counter. When the grocery bill was paid, the kids were allowed to reach in for a handful. What a treat!

The J.E. Johnson store, the largest mercantile store in the area. Customers would come in from Bull Creek, South Fork, McCann, Myers Flat and other outlying areas. The post office and groceries were downstairs and work clothes and shoes were upstairs. A soda fountain was added later. Ed and Agnes Johnson were always there to help the community.

The Loma Vista, which had the telephone switchboard, soda fountain, rooms upstairs, and the smallest bar on the North Coast. It had six stools and no tables. Ed Davis and his wife were the proprietors.

Bill Kerns’ Trucking, with trucks that were solid-tired Kleibers in the early days and later replaced with the Bulldog Macs. He did general trucking over the southern part of the county. His wife, Marge, still lives in Weott.

The Park Edge Auto Court, with small cottages made of redwood, situated against the large trees of the state park.

Monty’s Bar, the main stopping place for travelers from San Francisco to Eureka and a “hang-out” for a lot of the locals. One local character we all remember was Charley “Wildcat” Kenney. He was a large person with long fingernails and a big red beard. “Wildcat” spent summers on Grasshopper Lookout and winters in town. There were lots of other characters around. Troublemakers were not tolerated by Monty.

John, the Greek’s Cafe, the main eatery in town in those times, specializing in strong coffee and chicken fried steak.

Pesula’s garage, where anything you wanted done to your rig could be done. Sometimes the repairs might be crude, but they worked.

The meat market, where the kids would stand around with a long face and eventually be handed a weiner.

Jim Cara’s barbershop, where one could get a 35-cent haircut with a bit of brilliantine smeared on and feel ready for any Saturday night party.

The theatre brought folks to town from miles around. The Saturday night special found cars lined up on both sides of the main street (101 highway). Finally, the price of admission got up to 15 cents for kids and 35 cents for adults. A chance to run the projector put you in the elite class. There was always the once-in-awhile attraction of turning a couple of bats loose in the theatre and watching them fly up and down the light beam from screen to projector. This added interest to the picture on the screen.

There was the Burgess Shingle Mill, with the big steam engine puffing and blowing and running two head rigs. The wet redwood shingles tipped out, falling down the shoot to be packed into bundles. You wondered where some of those shingles would end up. This old mill kept bolt makers and truckers busy.

The schoolhouse on the hill had a little auditorium — restrooms downstairs, and two classrooms and library upstairs. Having the restrooms downstairs caused problems at times. The library was used more for disciplinary action than for reading. Each classroom had four grades: one through four and five through eight. A teacher, Elva Quarheim, was a favorite, along with Jim Marvel. His short after-lunch nap, with eyes closed and ears opened, had to be handled with caution by the students. The large steep stairs from the classrooms down to the ground was the fire escape. If the fire didn’t get you, the descent of the stairs would. This building is presently the American Legion Hall.

The waterworks at times was a hit-and-miss affair. Water would come from a creek on the mountain west of town, down under the Eel River, up the mountain east of town to the large redwood tank, back down on gravity flow, with the water hitting the downtown area with considerable force. How the old pipes, with their inner tube patches and clamps, held as well as they did was a miracle. But, oh boy, what wonderful tasting water from that pure creek.

The annual “go-round” with the road grader was always a big thing with the local kids who tagged along, right behind the grader, grabbing turned-up marbles, odd rocks and even now and then a coin.

Another annual event was the salmon run, deciding which big one we wanted and chasing after it up the riffles, usually going home empty-handed and wet. There was a nighttime venture or two at eeling. The old wooden boat, lantern and hook were all one needed.

In later years, most of this came to an end with the 1955 flood. Observing it from the hill above the town, you could see, as the water rose, buildings being pulled, like a car backing out into the street, out into the main current and swept down the highway into a log jam, or out into the river.

Weott is still surviving, but without that downtown spirit it used to have.

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The story above was originally printed in the March-April 1989 issue of the Humboldt Historian, a journal of the Humboldt County Historical Society. It is reprinted here with permission. The Humboldt County Historical Society is a nonprofit organization devoted to archiving, preserving and sharing Humboldt County’s rich history. You can become a member and receive a year’s worth of new issues of The Humboldt Historian at this link.