Playbook: Other Toledos

I drove North through the state of Washington. Trucks rode beside me on I-5 with open beds of freshly chopped lumber stacked like pyramids of giant pencils. An hour beyond the Oregon border, I pulled off the interstate and onto a two-lane road enclosed by Douglas fir and spruce trees. The trees were so tall that power lines hugged their lower bark like ankle bracelets.Everything seemed expansive until I pulled into Toledo, WA, a small town of 725 residents near Mt. St. Helens.  

When I tell people from other places that I am from Toledo, OH, I receive more blank stares than head nods.  Most people do not know Toledo beyond reruns of MASH and news reports about the recent water crisis.   

And most Ohioans have never heard of Toledo, WA or Toledo, OR.  So I went.  I went with an unwarranted feeling of familiarity, like visiting a McDonald’s in another country and presuming that I could just point to the picture of a Big Mac.  These places would surely be different than the flatlands of Ohio, but I wanted to know: Was there something common to Toledoans everywhere, an experience that could transcend thousands of miles?

Toledo, Washington

A hand-painted “Welcome To Toledo” sign fronts the town, with depictions of the outdoors and a tagline that reads “Gateway to Mt. St. Helens.”  The currently dormant volcano—it erupted in 1980—sits in the near distance.  Toledo was founded in 1892, and it is known as much for its Bigfoot sightings as for its vibrant Steelhead Trout fishing.  The town is an assembly of houses and small buildings carved out of forested hills along the Cowlitz River.

When I walked into city hall, Mayor Jerry Pratt and City Clerk Michelle Whitten already knew that I had taken photos of their sign when I arrived.  In a town of just 725 people, outsiders are noticed quickly.

“[We have] the most friendly people in the world,” said Mayor Pratt, as he gave me a tour of the town.  He bent down to pick up a discarded wrapper from the sidewalk, one of only two remnants of litter we saw.  Every time we walked past a Toledoan, they waved and smiled.

The mayor’s wife, Kay, owns the town’s popular burger joint, Betty’s Place.  It has a walk-up counter and a handful of small dining tables.  In the 32-year history of the restaurant, they’ve changed the recipe for the French fries only once. People immediately began calling Kay on the phone to see if everything was OK.  There are parts of small-town life that people do not want to see change, and Betty’s is one of them.

But change is inevitable.  Mayor Pratt received a call on a recent Christmas morning, telling him that his town was on fire.  The town’s two oldest buildings burned to the ground.  And in their place, the town built a volunteer library and a boat launch along the Cowlitz with a gazebo overlooking the tree-lined river. “It is important to give back to any town,” Pratt told me.  

Toledo, Oregon

Three-and-a-half hours southwest of Toledo, WA lies Toledo, OR.  It’s a city named, actually, after Toledo, OH.  A batch of Ohioans moved westward in the 1860’s and brought the name along.  It’s an exceptionally quiet town of 3600 people, overlooking a paper mill strapped to the Yaquina River, which feeds into the Pacific Ocean.  

City Manager Jay Baughman became fatigued by the big city life of Phoenix and moved to Toledo, OR after he and his wife fell in love with the place.  “The area is beautiful,” said Baughman.  He and his young family find a different beach to visit every weekend.

The local brewery, Twisted Snout, serves beers fresh with local ingredients and pork pun names like “Red Headed Step Hog.”  The owner, Stu Miller, also chose to move here after visiting.  With its festivals and fresh flower baskets that cover the buildings on Main Street, the community is contagious.  “People in the town really care about it,” said Miller.

I am one of many people who choose to live in Toledo, OH, a comparatively small place in each of its incarnations.  Any city, whether it sits near a volcano or Lake Erie, is built by the people who live there.  The people I met from other Toledos, places that balance both old and new, both growth and stability, are not trying to change their towns’ fundamental character.  Nor are they working to keep their homes firmly planted in the past.  They are just making their towns great places to live.

Got a comment? Tweet us @TCPaper 
Tweet Dorian @DorianMarley

Dorian Slaybod is 28, a local attorney
and happily living in Toledo.

I drove North through the state of Washington. Trucks rode beside me on I-5 with open beds of freshly chopped lumber stacked like pyramids of giant pencils. An hour beyond the Oregon border, I pulled off the interstate and onto a two-lane road enclosed by Douglas fir and spruce trees. The trees were so tall that power lines hugged their lower bark like ankle bracelets.Everything seemed expansive until I pulled into Toledo, WA, a small town of 725 residents near Mt. St. Helens.  

When I tell people from other places that I am from Toledo, OH, I receive more blank stares than head nods.  Most people do not know Toledo beyond reruns of MASH and news reports about the recent water crisis.   

And most Ohioans have never heard of Toledo, WA or Toledo, OR.  So I went.  I went with an unwarranted feeling of familiarity, like visiting a McDonald’s in another country and presuming that I could just point to the picture of a Big Mac.  These places would surely be different than the flatlands of Ohio, but I wanted to know: Was there something common to Toledoans everywhere, an experience that could transcend thousands of miles?

Toledo, Washington

A hand-painted “Welcome To Toledo” sign fronts the town, with depictions of the outdoors and a tagline that reads “Gateway to Mt. St. Helens.”  The currently dormant volcano—it erupted in 1980—sits in the near distance.  Toledo was founded in 1892, and it is known as much for its Bigfoot sightings as for its vibrant Steelhead Trout fishing.  The town is an assembly of houses and small buildings carved out of forested hills along the Cowlitz River.

When I walked into city hall, Mayor Jerry Pratt and City Clerk Michelle Whitten already knew that I had taken photos of their sign when I arrived.  In a town of just 725 people, outsiders are noticed quickly.

“[We have] the most friendly people in the world,” said Mayor Pratt, as he gave me a tour of the town.  He bent down to pick up a discarded wrapper from the sidewalk, one of only two remnants of litter we saw.  Every time we walked past a Toledoan, they waved and smiled.

The mayor’s wife, Kay, owns the town’s popular burger joint, Betty’s Place.  It has a walk-up counter and a handful of small dining tables.  In the 32-year history of the restaurant, they’ve changed the recipe for the French fries only once. People immediately began calling Kay on the phone to see if everything was OK.  There are parts of small-town life that people do not want to see change, and Betty’s is one of them.

But change is inevitable.  Mayor Pratt received a call on a recent Christmas morning, telling him that his town was on fire.  The town’s two oldest buildings burned to the ground.  And in their place, the town built a volunteer library and a boat launch along the Cowlitz with a gazebo overlooking the tree-lined river. “It is important to give back to any town,” Pratt told me.  

Toledo, Oregon

Three-and-a-half hours southwest of Toledo, WA lies Toledo, OR.  It’s a city named, actually, after Toledo, OH.  A batch of Ohioans moved westward in the 1860’s and brought the name along.  It’s an exceptionally quiet town of 3600 people, overlooking a paper mill strapped to the Yaquina River, which feeds into the Pacific Ocean.  

City Manager Jay Baughman became fatigued by the big city life of Phoenix and moved to Toledo, OR after he and his wife fell in love with the place.  “The area is beautiful,” said Baughman.  He and his young family find a different beach to visit every weekend.

The local brewery, Twisted Snout, serves beers fresh with local ingredients and pork pun names like “Red Headed Step Hog.”  The owner, Stu Miller, also chose to move here after visiting.  With its festivals and fresh flower baskets that cover the buildings on Main Street, the community is contagious.  “People in the town really care about it,” said Miller.

I am one of many people who choose to live in Toledo, OH, a comparatively small place in each of its incarnations.  Any city, whether it sits near a volcano or Lake Erie, is built by the people who live there.  The people I met from other Toledos, places that balance both old and new, both growth and stability, are not trying to change their towns’ fundamental character.  Nor are they working to keep their homes firmly planted in the past.  They are just making their towns great places to live.

Got a comment? Tweet us @TCPaper 
Tweet Dorian @DorianMarley

Dorian Slaybod is 28, a local attorney
and happily living in Toledo.