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Late in 1892 Fred Williams, a bachelor, purchased the Kluck & Davidson store and also the stock of the Best and Davis store. Williams then became postmaster.

In 1898, he sold to Bud Loomis who took over the postal job for a short time. He was followed by Grace McNutt and Miss Mabel Williams. Then Charley Evans, with Hilda as his assistant, served for eight years.

In 1907 Bud Loomis married, and in 1918 his wife Emma was appointed postmaster. By this time some five or six hundred persons received mail through her office. She served for thirty years. During the time she kept the office open evenings and Sundays to accommodate settlers and loggers who came from a distance to buy money orders and get their mail. It was often midnight when she locked the doors.

In 1944-45 the Loomis store, housing the post office, became an Army Post. Six sargeants and ten to fifteen privates were stationed at Humptulips. One or two sargeants were on twenty-four hour duty in the store and slept beside the telephone. During that time the building was never once locked.

Mrs. Loomis had retired, and the post office had been moved to the Lloyd Randall store across the street less than a week when the Loomis store and house burned. Fire fighters prevented the post office from being destroyed.

Charles Kellogg's old Franklin car was the first Humptulips mail stage. It was also the first auto stage on this side of the mountains.

(According to Mrs. Allen Kellogg)


After Fred Williams bought the Humptulips store, (1892) Kate Murhard relates, his flour sacks bore his name. The pioneer women were so short of cloth, that they made their under garments of these sacks, although the name in indelible ink would not wash out. "It was laughable to see F. F. Williams stamped across the seat of unmentionables. But at least it was an identification mark," Kate quipped, "If a woman were lost, the finder would know where to return her."

Fred Williams once traded a horse for a canoe belonging to Old Kettle, with the understanding that in the Fall, the Indian would pay him $5.00 to boot.

Along in the winter a friend of Williams met Old Kettle and asked, "You going to pay Williams that five dollars ?". The Indian gave him a crafty look, "Me old, only one eye, maybe horse die.", he suggested.