Kellogg tells tale of town meeting fiasco

(I became acquainted with Robert Kellogg when I was asked to critique a book he was writing called, "50 True Tales of Northern Idaho." Robert has had a colorful career in Sandpoint: Working with Norm Bauer at KSPT radio, writing for the Sandpoint News Bulletin, manager of the Panida Theater for Floyd Grey, just to name a few. He began researching old newspapers when he was with Lauren Pietsch at the New Bulletin, and today's story comes from that research.

Today's story not only reflects a Sandpoint of yesteryear, but it confirms the fact that some people go nuts when they get a little power given to them. The operable word is "given," not innate. We see in Bob's story a typical "Junior Birdman" politician that breeds on secrecy, catering to a few cronies, and caring less about involving the people who gave him his temporary power. We also see a group of citizens who not only talked about the situation facing them, but had the intestinal stamina to fulfill their roll in the community as its true leaders.)

Here is Robert's story, in his own words, about the town meeting fiasco of 1909.

Many businessmen and some other citizens of Sandpoint found an unusual postcard in their mail on Wednesday morning, March 3, 1909. It read: "Dear Sir: A meeting of the businessmen of Sandpoint will be held at the K.P. (Knights of Pythias) hall, corner of Second Avenue and Main Street, Wednesday evening, March 3, at 9 o'clock, to prepare a platform and nominate a ticket for the Sandpoint municipal election which occurs April 6.

You are earnestly requested to attend, as there are matters of the utmost importance to the city to come up during the next few years, and it is of the highest importance that an efficient city administration be instituted.

No platform or slate has been prepared for this meeting and no preparations for such purpose will be tolerated, but you are requested to come prepared with ideas for such a platform and to nominate such a ticket.

For the committee, Harry Olney.

Please bring this invitation.

Just how many postcards were mailed is unknown, but quite clearly the news of the meeting had reached all corners of the city, for a large crowd had packed the hall by 9 p.m. Almost an hour later, nothing had happened except that more people drifted in to see what was going on.

Shortly before 10 p.m. Harry Olney appeared. He moved to the front of the hall as the crowd quieted. First, he apologized for being late but offered no excuse. Second, he explained loudly and clearly that the reason he had asked everyone to bring the invitational postcard was so the "hobo element" could be kept out of the meeting.

There was a sudden noise of rustling around and ominous murmuring while most of the crowd, lacking the Olney-issued passport, began to realize in which part of the social register Harry arbitrarily had placed them. From that point forward the meeting assumed some of the aspects of a Harper Valley PTA gathering.

Disregarding some angry mutterings, Harry called the group to order and stated the first formality was to select a chairman of the meeting. J.K. Ashley Sr., placed the name of Byron D. Defenbach in nomination. Defenbach declined to accept, stating he knew nothing about the meeting and didn't want to assume its leadership. The next name suggested was that of attorney Herman H. Taylor, but he declined for the same reason as Defenbach.

As the meeting seemed to be falling apart, a few voices were heard clamoring for Olney to act as chairman as long as he was up there anyway, but Olney announced that he had a telephone call in some other part of the building. He anointed Taylor as chairman of the meeting in his absence, even though it was an honor, Taylor already had refused. Olney left, not to be seen at the gathering again.

Taylor reluctantly assumed the chair. Someone then moved that the chair appoint a committee to draft a platform to be presented at a mass meeting the following Monday, same place, same time, but without the phony postcard/tickets. The motion received a second, but was defeated by a thundering "no" from the crowd.

Another motion was offered and seconded that a meeting be held the following Monday, but without a committee and platform. The "hoboes" now felt united in their opinions. This motion also received a near unanimous vote-another, even louder, "no." It seemed doubtful at that moment that any motion promoting another mass meeting could pass, even with free beer.

An unknown hero arose from the throng and moved that the meeting "adjourn forever." Many "seconds" were shouted out from all around the room. This action passed unanimously and was followed by loud cheering. Then everyone went home.