Olywa Days of Change

Olympia Farmers Market – By Becky Liebman

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The early days presented a consummate catch-22 situation. Growers did not want to participate unless there were customers. Customers would not return if there wasn’t produce to buy. As manager, I considered myself a marketing genius: I would call numbers I found in the classified ads of the Daily Olympian with a pitch something like, “I see you’re selling cucumbers. Did you know we have a farmers market in Olympia, open every Friday and Saturday alongside Capitol Lake?” Slowly the word spread.

An Artist Comes to Evergreen and Olympia – By Marilyn Frasca

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I arrived to teach at Evergreen in 1973. The spirit at the college then was exhilarating, full of hope and enthusiasm. I was to be part of creating a new way to teach and learn. Testing and grades and categories for study would not guide planning and curriculum. Instead, interdisciplinary studies would focus on themes agreed upon by faculty teams. My work as a drawing teacher was no longer isolated in an art room somewhere but now an integral part of the study of literature and music, science and psychology.

Coming to Olympia – By Susan Christian

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I had never seen such a beautiful place as the western side of the Cascades. I drove to Olympia, little and peaceful. I found Marilyn living in a small old house with a big chicken coop. I slept in the chicken coop which was also Marilyn’s studio. Now the spot has a Big Lots store on it. The land where the mall is now, across West 9th Street, was acres of Scotch broom.

Gay Nights at the Conestoga! – By Anna Schlecht and Alexis Jetter

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After a few minutes, though, the tone changed, and the music stopped. The owner, who was at the club that night, cut us off from the bar and ordered us to leave, telling us that we’d be arrested if we returned. We were shocked—as were several people at the bar, who looked at us with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. We refused to budge from the dance floor and demanded an explanation. The owner said he had the right to refuse service to anyone he pleased. “If you let certain types or elements, take over a place,” he later told the Daily Olympian, “you’re going to be hurting.”

Going to the Left Coast – By Anna Schlecht

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Without consciously knowing it, I had moved two thousand miles away from my family to come out—it was other gay people I was looking for. Once I admitted that to myself, it seemed like Olympia was crawling with lesbians. In my daily flight path of looking for work and trying to meet people, I often circled by Laura’s store downtown, the Rainbow Grocery. I have no idea how she identified, but her store sure seemed to draw a lot of lesbians. They all seemed so much older and wiser, as everyone older than nineteen seems to an eighteen-year-old.