By STAN STAPP

Today's subject is a slice of GREENWOOD HISTORY: including Seattle's "most spectacular hold-up"; the world's tiniest weekly newspaper; and the lives of my three oldest brothers when they were still kids as related by me, who was there in a way as an egg inside my mommie's tummy - wondering when and how to get out.

I was born in Greenwood, at least the very edge of it, 944 N 84th - near the corner of N 84th and Aurora Ave. N. And I mean born in one of the family bedrooms, not in some distant hospital. This was on Jan. 8, 1918.

The three brothers and a small printing press preceded me by some 12-15 years. The printing press was a Pilot Hand Lever Press, and could print up to 6-1/2 by 10 inches "inside chase" if you know what a chase is.

Before I appeared on the scene, the three boys had formed a company and named it the General Trading Co., and in 1917 started a little newspaper, The Weekly Magnet, "Picks up the good and leaves the dirt." The page size was 3-1/2 by 4-1/2 inches.

One of the biggest stories in The Magnet was about a picnic in Piper's Canyon (Carkeek Park).

"The Stapp family and two boy friends took their lunch, and walked to Piper's Canyon, a little way north of Seattle." (About seven miles round trip. We had no car and there were no buses to the canyon.) "They built a fire and Mr. and Mrs. Stapp made coffee for themselves, while the boys drank water. After lunch they built a dam across Piper's Creek near which they had picnicked. After much hard work they succeeded in stopping it up, except for the the over-flow. A pond 20 feet across was formed by the dam. Just before they left, they let it go, and watched the water as it rushed by. They arrived at home a little before dark."

(Thank Heaven that Nancy Malmgren wasn't around then to witness this. You may know that she has been the main activist in luring salmon once again to swim into Piper's Creek and make some babies. The first ones returned in 1993, 76 years after my Dad and brothers built the dam.)

Other stories in The Magnet were:

: "Frankie Holstrom and Harold Lynn forgot that water is wet. They went wading in the pool at Woodland Park, and before they were through, each had managed to sit down once, with his clothes on."

"The rain last Saturday night nearly drowned The Magnet staff out of their tent sleeping quarters in the back yard. The water was not more than six inches deep in the deepest place so we finally managed to sleep with some comfort. It will take more than the weather to get ahead of The Magnet!"

"Our youngest brother, Art, is very patriotic. He goes around singing the Star Spangled Banner from morning till night. The whole family often gathers outside the bath-room door to hear him while taking his bath. We wonder if he sings then so he will only have to wash his feet, for of course no real American will sit while the National Anthem is being sung."

"Waking up in the early morning I could see the sun coming up from behind the hill, and could hear the birds chirping in the trees, and then I heard the sweet voices of several cows serenading me, and then the little calf took up the refrain, and I went back to sleep."

(I doubt there's much chirping going on nowadays, the highway traffic and all. As for mooing, when last did anyone see a cow near 85th and Aurora?)

"Mathematicians have figured that at the present rate of progress the tennis court will be finished by half-past eight in the evening, Jan. 1, 2000. Those who are now figuring on playing in this court will have to find some other amusement for the next 83 years."

(I don't know if this tennis court ever got built. Is it the one at northwest Green Lake? Or where? Somebody fill me in. As for the year 2000, this must be the first time it has ever appeared in print.)

The Magnet was also big on Want Ads. Here are a few examples - "FOR SALE: gunny sack, old junk, 10 cents worth of linen thread. FREE: golf balls in exchange for 5 cents, free topsoil to a depth of about 6 inches. WANTED: small jobs in electricity, small jobs of printing, two wheels about 6 inches in diameter, a good story to print in this newspaper. LOST two-bladed knife near N 84th, reward 5 cents. Lost my appetite, finder have mercy and return."

(As you can see, all of the ads were placed by my brothers. Not a good way to make a living.)

The following year when I came along (1918) the company became a corporation and was renamed the fouressprintshop.com. (Just kidding about the .com). Fouress stood for the four Stapp boys: Milton, the oldest, was president; Elbert, was vice president; Art, was secretary, and I, less than a year old, was general manager.

Our biggest customer was Dad, who taught piano and had a school of music, and was always in need of printing, particularly programs for the many recitals he gave.

* * *

And now for the bank holdup some 36 years later.

On the morning of March 12, 1954, at 10:50 a.m., three bandits entered the Greenwood Branch of Seattle First-National Bank. Within several minutes, three police officers arrived on the scene of what has been called "Seattle's most spectacular bank robbery." Perhaps the officers were TOO soon. All three were shot, one fatally.

Patrolman Frank Hardy was slain by a bullet to the forehead, Sgt. Howard Slessman was shot in the neck, and Patrolman Vernon Chase was hit in the abdomen.

Two of the robbers escaped in a stolen car, the third apparently walked away. They were wearing false rubber noses and fake horn-rimmed glasses. Many more officers responded, including those on the afternoon and evening shifts. Downtown officers covered the bridges and others the ferry landings - it was rumored the bandits might have gone to Canada. Police combed the North End, finally locating the get-away car in Ballard.

I heard the first police report of the robbery on our Outlook police/fire scanner, and followed the action all day. I was acquainted with the three officers, running into them occasionally at the Wallingford Police Precinct where I collected police news, or out on the street when I photographed accidents and fires with my 4x5 Speed Graphic.

The bandits got away with $6,998. One of them escaped the scene by diving through a window, but on the way out dropped a shopping bag on the bank floor. It was stuffed with a lot of money - $90,800 of it.

Although the bandits were traced to Canada, none of them were ever brought to justice though one was tried in Seattle 10 years later, but was acquitted for "lack of evidence."

It was generally agreed that the "cops were poorly trained" in replying to bank holdups. Possibly because they'd never before arrived at a bank holdup while the bandits were still on the scene.

As a result, Seattle Police nowadays take a more cautious approach in similar circumstances.

* * *

In the early '70s, I once again made my home in Greenwood, acquiring the small house at 721 N 86th (between Linden and Fremont). The best thing about it was that we got the Outlook delivered to our door each week. And I actually enjoyed paying the carrier when he came around to collect each month - even though I had access to hundreds of free copies at the office.

(Now, 25 years later, our former little house on N 86th is surrounded by three-story townhouses - not bad-looking in themselves, but kind of hiding the skyline.)

A neighbor lady on N 86th once told us of a problem at the Greenwood Senior Center. It seems that at their weekly dances there was a preponderance of women over men, to the extent that "the weaker sex" were fighting each other as to who was going to get to dance and who would be left out.

Now I realize it's nice for a man to be popular - but on the dance floor being ripped apart by two angry ladies?