A Twinkle in His eye
Old Photo Sends Islander Down a Historical Rabbit Hole
By George Soltes
PHOTOS BY DINAH SATTERWHITE AND COURTESY JACK AND MARCIA TARABOCHIA ESTATE COLLECTION, BAINBRIDGE HISTORY MUSEUM AND UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON LIBRARIES, SPECIAL COLLECTION
Twenty-eight years ago, Sheri Renner made a bold choice.
Although she and her young family were comfortable and happy in their roomy, custom-built Bainbridge home, she convinced them to trade it in for a tiny Point White cottage built in 1916. “It was basically considered a tear-down. Nobody really wanted it,” Renner recalled. “Honestly, it was just kind of a whim.”
The day after the move, as the family of four was adjusting to the 1,800-square-foot space and single shared bathroom, a knock came at the door. The elderly caller introduced himself as George Burke. Armed with a folder full of letters, photographs and memoirs, he spun out the house’s story. At the heart of the tale was William Condon Stanley, Burke’s great-grandfather, a character who walked out of American history and drew Renner down a rabbit hole from which she has yet to emerge.
Stanley, an Irish immigrant and Civil War veteran, followed rumors of Alaskan riches to the Klondike in 1896. A year later he returned home, steaming into Seattle on the SS Portland along with other early prospectors. They brought along a ton of gold, and their arrival helped kick off the Alaskan gold rush.
Flush with cash, Stanley purchased 160 acres on Point White. The centerpiece of the sprawling property, known as the Ranch House, was a three-story Victorian mansion, featuring a cupola, barn, rifle range, root cellar and orchard. The rest of the land was ultimately divided among Stanley’s seven children and their families. Renner’s house, built for Stanley’s daughter Ida, is all that remains standing today. (The Ranch House burned down under mysterious circumstances in 1918, a story of its own.)
The historical significance of the property was not Renner’s primary motivation to spend countless hours digging through archives, museums and old newspapers for more information. Rather, she was intrigued by a photo among Burke’s documents of a young William Stanley in Alaska. Seated on a wooden crate in front of a log cabin alongside his puppy Yukon, who sports a jaunty bow, Stanley cut a dashing figure with whom Renner felt an instant connection.
“I just thought he looked like such an interesting person. There’s a twinkle in his eye, and it looks like he’s having a blast,” she said. “The other thing about him is he’s a sharp dresser. How’s he in the Yukon looking like that?”
