DeAnne settles into her late husband’s deep earth color recliner, now hers after his passing a little over a year ago. A lamp from the side table catches the sparkle of auburn from her soft wavy hair. DeAnne’s booming voice matches the size of her expansive grin. The February evening is warm enough to leave the door open to a covered deck. For 35 years she has served locals and tourists food and drink, though much of the last 12 years she could be found at a recreational vehicle shop. Now, at 52, DeAnne is looking forward to working again as she enjoys her first Harley motorcycle.

     I moved to Moclips from Tacoma in December 1975 during my junior year in high school. My dad had just bought the Seagate Trailer Park and Restaurant. I had never fry-cooked before, but it wasn’t too long before I caught on.
Right away, Dad had developed 80-some-odd RV spaces in the middle of the trailer park. The tourists filled the spaces during clam dig weekends. I would clean their clams into the night at five bucks per limit in a little shed Dad built me down by the RVs. Next morning I would be frying their breakfast at our restaurant.

     The loggers and mill workers would stop in on their way to work for breakfast. Some stopped in after work, too. I started getting to know all the local customers. Some would even call ahead to place a lunch order if they were planning to pass by on their way to or from a mill. That’s how I met my first husband, Blake. His dad owned a cedar shake mill in Carlisle. Blake made a point to stop in at the restaurant before and after his work logging the trees for the mill.

     I married Blake when I was 17 years old. My senior year in high school I was a married woman while I was a cheerleader and a student. After cheering at an evening game, I’d have to get home to finish cleaning the restaurant. I still had the clam cleaning job going for me, too. Blake and I had bought a brand new Security trailer from up in Tacoma and put it in one of the RV space so I’d be close to home while he was off logging.

     The next few years helped me improve my customer service skills. We had moved our trailer closer to the logging areas near Lake Quinault and I had secured a job at the Quinault Lodge. The lodge, at that time, was a vacation destination for European tourists.

     By the time I was 20 years old, my marriage had ended. I moved back to Dad’s at Seagate, along with my two young children. I knew this arrangement at Dad’s wouldn’t work for too long as I craved my independence.

     As it turned out, my move home could not have been better. Seagate Restaurant now had a liquor license and I immediately wanted to learn the art of bartending. Barely 21 years old and I had become a successful bar manager. During my time off, I wanted to out to party with my customers.

     The Colonial West in Hoquiam was where I went to play. In the evening after feeding the kids, I’d have a baby sitter come stay with them and I’d be home by 2 a.m. The Colonial West was a two-story building with live music six nights a week, dance floors, and two bars. One was even a piano bar. There were two dining rooms, but I wasn’t looking for dinner. I had some great dance partners! We were good enough to make a run up to Seattle for the dance competitions.

     I decided I was having so much fun at the Colonial West, I wanted to go to work there. Well, nobody knew how old I was, and because of my maturity and strong voice level, I wasn’t ever questioned about my age. The owner, Ralph, didn’t think he should hire me as the bar manager with so many other bartenders having seniority over me. I told Ralph, “Well, just don’t tell them how old I am. I can run this place. I’ve run the Seagate, give me a break!” Ralph hired me! I was the youngest bar manager he ever hired. I just told everyone who knew me that “Shush! I am 25 years old.”

     Some of the most fun I have had is planning the special events, from pool table tournaments to New Years Eve parties. I’ve arranged to pit carpenters against firemen against golfers in spaghetti cook-off events. We’ve held events to support local food banks and families in need. Events are also tied in with the year-long roster of events in Ocean Shores, up the beach at the Green Lantern and on up to Pacific Beach.

     For about a year from 1999-2000, I was the food and beverage manager at the Naval Station in Pacific Beach. When I was hired, it was only a week before my prearranged vacation. I introduced myself to the bartenders by asking them to tell me what the toughest cleaning jobs were for them. I spent that week cleaning everything on their lists. The day before I left on vacation, I had an impromptu meeting to tell them I would never ask them to clean something I was not willing to take care of myself. I let them know every piece of equipment was expected to be kept as clean as I had made them. Not just once in awhile – all the time.

     The Naval Station sent me to master’s training. I had learned about serving throughout my career. However, this put all my knowledge together. I learned why a utensil is placed where it is placed. I learned protocol for the various branches of the service who regularly took their vacations at the Naval Facility. Did you know there is even a specific way to drape each flag on its stand?

     I’m giddy with excitement to go back to work, riding my Harley. This is the start of a whole new chapter in my life. I am an old beach babe that takes what I already know and reinvents myself.

~Interviewed & transcribed
by Christen Lee