John Weston Olson passed away the morning of Aug. 21, 2023, at the age of 95.
John Olson’s father and mother, Peter and Christina were immigrants from Sweden and met in Minnesota where they married. Work as a blacksmith in Minnesota became scarce in the late 1920s. So when Peter heard from his sister Marie (who was working as a nurse in Aberdeen) that there was work at the sawmills, Peter and Christina packed up their belongings and children, and moved west.
John was born Feb. 13, 1928 and raised in the Wishkah Valley. He graduated from Aberdeen High School in 1946, and served in the National Guard, honorably discharged.
In 1953 John Olson married Mary (Basich) and they raised three sons John “Mike,” Robert “Bob” and Doug. John built the family’s Wishkah home, was a Boy Scout leader, helped build soap box derby racers, and built motorcycles from crates of old parts (fun times cycling down the logging roads between the Wishkah and Wynoochee). John also helped his children peel and sell cascara bark for gas money.
A skilled boatsman, in his younger years, John raced small hydros on the Chehalis River.
For work, John Olson had a short stint on the Grays Harbor shipping dredges before working a 30-year career with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers as a deckhand then captain of the survey boat Mamala. On the Mamala the crew would regularly survey Grays Harbor and Willapa Bay, crossing the bar many times to ensure a shipping channel for the log ships. They also surveyed the Columbia River, Puget Sound, and bays along the Oregon coast.
He was a master carpenter and mechanic — notable works include wood cabinets, desks, tables and creating a family RV from a broken-down bus. The restored bus was used for hauling family and friends to folk festivals, banjo galas, concerts, camping and beach clamming fun. Also restored were a Model T Ford and old motorboats.
In retirement, John Olson was Vice President of Bunkies Amalgamated Enterprises Inc.
In 1988, John and Mary moved to Brinnon, Washington where they met new friends and spent time shrimping and clamming along Hood Canal. In 2004 they moved to Tumwater, Washington and after a brief illness Mary died in 2007 at age 73. John and Mary were married 53 years.
John moved again in 2010 and lived with his son Mike (and Theresa) in Montesano. John helped Mike with cutting and splitting wood, building tables from their own sawed lumber and running the tractor. Mike’s acre was meticulously mowed by John on his tractor up until the last years of his life.
John lived a long, vibrant life. Hobbies included bowling, dancing, golfing, playing cards, swimming (Aberdeen High School swim team), hunting, camping (many summers spent along the Turkey Foot of the Wynoochee River with friends and family), RVing (they named themselves the “Motley Crew”), and general merriment with his Olson and Basich families and friends.
He regularly volunteered to donate blood to the Red Cross (over 30 gallons) and was a first-generation volunteer for Long Live the Kings, helping collect Chinook salmon broodstock for the Wishkah hatchery.
John is preceded in death by his father Peter (1943), mother Christina (1956), sisters Edith Clark (2002), Rosie Neet (2013) and Carol Schroeder (2008), brothers Erling “Ole” (1990) and Leonard (2005). John’s wife Mary passed in 2007 and their son Bob in 1971.
John is survived by his sons Mike (Theresa) and Doug (Beth); three grandchildren Amanda (Moses) Bies, Hannah Olson and Clara Olson; three great-grandchildren Jenner, Avery (Emi) and Abby Bies; and many nieces and nephews.
A memorial to celebrate John Olson’s life will be announced at a later date. In lieu of flowers please send donations to the Red Cross.
Crossing the Bar, a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep, Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place, The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face, When I have crossed the bar.
