Selling Sex in the Silver Valley

by Dr. Heather Branstetter

  Vern Carlson [used to tell a story] about a guy that came out of the rooms after doing his thing, and he had his head down like he was a little embarrassed, and Dolores put her arm around him and says, “So how was it, so-and-so?”

  And he goes, “She didn’t have any hair down there...”

  And Dolores says, she goes, “You don’t see any grass growing on a racetrack, do you?”

  Anonymous 11: A couple of guys married them.

  Posnick: That’s right.… I’d have girls come into the bar, they’d come in here and ask where they were supposed to go, where’s the Oasis Rooms or whatever. But when they went to the, like the doctor’s office, they were pretty wild. You could see them. They stood out.

  Anonymous 11: The highlight of a teenage boy’s life.

  Posnick: No, that wasn’t the highlight. When the bars closed, everyone would say, let’s go up to the whorehouses, window-shop. Half the time you didn’t want to, you weren’t going to do anything, you just wanted to look. Look around.

  Anonymous 11: But you couldn’t stay up there for hours.

  Posnick: They’d always try and hustle you up, “You guys got any money, wanna go into a room?” And you know, we’d say, “Oh we’re shopping. We’re looking.” You’d go up and bullshit them, you’d laugh and giggle, and your buddies would laugh and joke around, maybe, you know, one guy would have enough money so you’d go.… We’d close the bar and say, hey, let’s go up, we’re going to go up to the whorehouses. You’d go up there two to three hours, bullshit, have a drink, you know. For a while there, you couldn’t drink unless you were going to go into the rooms. Then Mama Lee started the drinking, so there was nights she sold a lot of booze up there. Awful lot, probably more than some of the bars.

  I remember when they were doing some carpentry work up there [at the U&I], couple three months job. And at the end of the job, they [the carpenters] owed them [the women] money.

  Looking south along Sixth Street from above the depot, before it was moved across the river to its current location. Historic Wallace Preservation Society.

  Anonymous 11: [Like they were] pounding nails for free.

  Posnick: They did, they owed them money....

  I had a buddy one time, and we were playing golf, and I got a hole in one at the golf course, and it was Tuesday night men’s night, so we had dinner and drank a bunch, we come back here, and he wanted to go to the whorehouses, but I said, “I’m going home. I’m going home.” I’d already put the money away. And they didn’t take checks, you know. There weren’t any debit cards back then. But since I paid rent to the place, I just gave him a check from here and signed it. So he went up there and the next day he says, “Don’t you ever leave me in a whorehouse again with a blank check.” He goes, “Because that’s like letting Colonel Sanders baby-sit your chicken.”278

  ANONYMOUS 28, MINER BORN AND RAISED

  IN WALLACE

  I mean, everybody in town knew what was going on. And like I said, they were providing a service—they helped buy band uniforms, they kept Wallace going forward. They contributed to the community. They weren’t strutting their shit up and down the street. So local mothers didn’t really have nothing to say. Hell, half the local women knew their hubbies were going to get laid at the houses, but what could they say? Could they admit it back in those days in public? Hey, I ain’t giving it to my old man the way he likes it, so he’s going to the houses. You know. Or I’m getting a little older now, and he likes younger girls.

  It was the best-known secret in the fucking state, if you know what I’m trying to say. Hell, the police knew what was happening. You went up there, you started to get a little rowdy or something? Fuck, cops arrested you right now, threw you downstairs and to fucking jail you went. Them girls were providing a service. They did not, in any way, reflect badly on this area. They provided a service.

  They provided specialty services too. I can tell you for a fact back in 1977, there were special services to be had.

  What kind of specialty services?

  Are you seeing how kinky I am or what’s your point in this?

  Well, that’s what they say, that if you want something—

  You can pay for it. We’re talking about, the girls would take a guy, strip him down, put him in a bubble bath, scrub him out and then have him. You know, good guys coming out of work from the mine. Had an old partner who ended up married one of those girls. He just loved the way she gave him those bubble baths.…

  And he married her. Did they stay in town here?

  They’re still here.

  Who can I talk to about that?

  Boy, that would be a tough one. You don’t want to walk up to one of those girls and say, hey old pro, let me ask you a couple of questions, you know? How do you do that discreetly? I mean, we all know. I know three of them and all three of them, they’re definitely good women, they raised good kids and take great care of them. I don’t think their kids know. So how do you tell someone to go and say, hey you old pro, let me ask you a question. You know what I mean? That’s just wrong.

  I would have to promise them that it would be—

  No, it’s just wrong to point you in that direction. Do you know what I’m trying to say?

  But I feel like their stories need to be told because people are telling stories about them. I feel like their perspective needs to be shared, you know?

  But don’t their privacy—

  Absolutely, I wouldn’t name them—

  Need to be respected?

  I wouldn’t name them by name or anything.

  No, no, I mean, for someone to point you in that direction. Doesn’t their privacy need to be respected?

  …Most of the town didn’t know which girls were which, because when they walked through town they dressed down. They treated themselves very well out in public. And if you happened to be on the street and see one that you happened to know, nobody ever pointed them out and said, yeah, I know that hooker.… It was a fact of life that was the best-known secret ever kept in this area.279

  DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES

  Most of my research participants accepted sex work in the Silver Valley as a part of life, and they expressed support for its existence. Many even said they wished we still had the brothels around. But, in addition to the discussion with Shewmaker featured in the fourth chapter, I had a couple of conversations with people who offered insight to extend the narrative further.

  “Yours Is a Historical Perspective.

  Mine Is Very Much Personal.”

  I deleted the names, locations and some parts of this conversation out of respect for my informant and her family. Ellipses and brackets indicate editing for clarity and privacy.

  We moved [away from Wallace] because my stepmom, who was a prostitute up there, was treated horribly by pretty much everybody in town [after she married my dad].

  Why did they treat her horribly?

  Because she was a prostitute.

  And that was it?

  Yeah. If she was any girl on the street they wouldn’t have cared, but my dad’s family treated her horribly.… I don’t care what people say. They did not treat her good. They didn’t treat [my stepmom] good.… Was it an accepted part? Yeah, OK, I mean you could say it was an accepted part of Wallace society, but it wasn’t accepted like, “Come over for tea”; it wasn’t like that at all. And the reason that [my stepmom] left, the reason that Dad and [she] left was because my grandpa and grandma and that whole side of the family treated her horrible because she was a whore. And my stepmom was abused horribly as a kid. And I don’t mean just emotionally, like physically. Think of the worst possible scenario for a kid. That was what my stepmom went through.… Not everybody is trying to pay off college loans.

  Did [she] tell you what she went through?

  That’s why I am so adamant that this not like somebody paying for fucking college. You know what I mean? It’s just so much, old school. If we’re going to seriously talk about old school prostitution, it�
��s nothing like—it wasn’t even fucking close to a real lifestyle at all. Have you heard that, ever? That that’s not really, whatever people think of prostitution now, isn’t the same as prostitution then?

  There weren’t many options for women, right? Back then?

  There weren’t?

  No.

  There weren’t or there were?

  I don’t think there were, no.

  For some there were. [My stepmom’s sister] turned her on to prostitution at the age of sixteen. [Her sister] and her mother. She didn’t decide to go into prostitution. She was forced to go into prostitution by her mom and her sister.…

  How did [her sister] get into it? Was it her mom?

  I don’t know how [she] got into it.… I never heard or even asked how [she] got into it. I can only imagine, they lived a hard fucking life; like, whatever I went through as a kid was fucking nothing compared to what [my stepmom] and [her sister] went through when they were kids. And I mean, physical abuse, like all kinds of crazy shit.

  Sexual abuse?

  I never heard about sexual abuse. Never heard about sexual abuse with regard to [my stepmom]. I don’t know about [her sister], and [they] had different dads, so I’m not sure about that.… They grew up in [a city]; they were like [city] street people. And [my stepmom’s] mom was batshit crazy. They were all fucking crazy.

  Did [your stepmom and her sister] have the same mom?

  Yeah. And there’s more kids. They weren’t like the only kids. Two of them did stints in prison. They were just fucked up, a fucked up group of people. But I don’t know how [her sister] got into prostitution.… I know [my stepmom] had a pimp for a long time and he brought her over here and [her sister] brought her over here.

  How far apart were they?

  I don’t know exactly, but [her sister was] quite a bit older than her, maybe like eight to ten years older than [my stepmom].

  It’s hard for me to imagine turning out my younger sister, you know.

  And your daughter. I mean, it wasn’t just [her sister]. It was their mom, too. It’s fucking disgusting. And [my stepmom] was horribly abused physically by her dad.… Back in those days when a kid got in trouble or whatever, they would send them to Catholic school, not just Catholic, but like reform school, that’s what [my stepmom] got sent to. Her dad was an abusive, alcoholic piece of shit that beat the hell out of her and she ended up in Catholic reform school, like she did something wrong. It’s not the same now, I mean, shit’s different now, but it’s kinda why I feel so strongly about the whole industry. It’s not just some good girls working their way through college, it’s… I don’t believe that if you have innate self-respect that you do that for any reason. As bad as my life ever was, there was not a part of me that was ever like, “Aww fuck it, I don’t have anything else. Might as well just…”

  You’ll never get that self-respect back.… Yours is a historical perspective. Mine is very much personal. And it’s way more emotional. Way more, it affects a whole family. It’s not just—everybody knew she was a whore. Everybody [in Wallace] knew she was a whore. And you can either live with the stigma, as stupid as that sounds in these days. It is what it is.... Because there was shame involved. It’s not historic; it was shame. Because everybody made her feel bad for what she was. My dad’s family. And the truth is, she was just an abused lost woman. And then when she was old enough to make her own decisions, her family couldn’t accept who she had been.

  What did she do afterward?

  She married my dad and became a housewife. You know what I mean? She made dinner and started fresh. That’s why we moved. Everybody in Wallace knew who she was, but nobody [where we moved] knew who she was.

  So people didn’t accept her in the community regardless of how accepted people say it was.

  Regardless of not just that, but regardless of how she went on to live her life. When she was with my dad, she wasn’t a prostitute anymore. It wouldn’t have mattered. It wouldn’t have mattered what she did. OK, maybe twenty years down the road it would have changed the minds of people, but you can be here for like a month and hear people go, “ba ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba ba.” If you’re living right, it’s OK. If you’re not, it’s depressing. There’s a lot of hurt there.… It’s hard to grow up with that and break those walls down and be open. It’s hard.… The thing is, everybody made mistakes. Back in those days, everybody did. And when you live in a small town, and your dad marries a prostitute, and your mom marries a guy who—my stepdad—ugh, all of my stepdad’s guy friends beat their wives. Including my stepdad. Every single fucking one of them. It was just a different time and it was a different mindset and not every man was like, “You don’t hit your wives.” It was most men in my life growing up, where, “Oh, yeah, yes, you do. If she pushes you enough, you fucking smack the shit out of her.”280

  Lori Bunde, Wallace High School Class of 1978

  Some older women thought it was disgusting. I never heard a man complain about it. People didn’t sit around and talk about it though. I don’t remember my mom making any comments either. A few of my friends’ parents divorced because of it. The guys, they didn’t necessarily want sex, so they would just go up there and visit and sit around and chat. Because you could go up there and drink after hours. They could go up and have another drink. I was always curious, wanted to go up there, but you couldn’t unless you were selling something. The maid would answer the door, and you could kinda look around and see some of the girls in there drinking coffee.

  The girls would wear high heels and short little mink coats. They always looked classy. They looked like movie stars. We would be in awe watching them walk down the street. It was a treat to see one of them out and about. Pretty classy. Always looked perfect, beautiful nails. There was a couple that overdid the makeup, but there were a few times they would come in [to the print shop where I worked] without makeup on.

  At least half of them had husbands and kids, maybe up to 70 percent. They missed out on a lot of their kids’ lives. And it was like they lived two lives, one a secret life and one just a regular mom. It was just the money, the money was great.

  They would say, “Honey you’re so beautiful, you should do this. You might like it.” Those girls were all beautiful. I don’t remember ever seeing an ugly one. Teeth were perfect, lips, they were gorgeous. Looked like movie stars.

  There was a couple of them, if they didn’t get in to Western Union they would start panicking because their families were depending on the money. One girl came back into town with a black eye. She’d kept it a secret, and he beat her. She came back into town to get her stuff and move away.…

  Never heard any of them complain about nothing. Sometimes they would stay there and chat so they could stay out a little longer. There were a few of the girls who didn’t really like it, but the money was too good to pass up. And once they were in it, was hard to get out, try a regular job but couldn’t make anywhere near the same kinda money.281

  8

  End of an Era

  What allowed it to continue was that Shoshone County was the wealthiest county in the state. With money comes influence.... We lost influence when the mining

  was devastated.

  —Mayor Dick Vester, 2010

  While the brothels in Wallace certainly served an economic need, money alone does not explain the high degree of acceptance that the town’s residents express when discussing the presence of commercial sex. And even though the madams’ donations to the city served a persuasive function that complemented the public image they cultivated, it would be a mistake to interpret their monetary contributions as bribery or extortion. City leaders understood they would lose their jobs if they did not serve the collective will of the community.282 Thus, the sheriff and city council members chose not to override local preferences to impose the written laws of the state and federal government. Why did the brothels finally close down, then? One man argued, “What really demised the cathouses” was the departure of madams like Dolores an
d Loma and their “old time supervision” management style: “A bunch of young broads took these places over, and they went to shit.”283

  Most Wallace residents deny the credibility of any narrative that attributes the closure of the houses to the 1991 FBI raid. I didn’t bring it up as a suggestion during any of the oral history interviews and yet my research participants often brought it up as a wrong-headed idea that needed to be dismissed. Mayor Vester told me, “A lot of people think the FBI raid caused the houses to go away, but probably it was more likely the generalbad economy and AIDS.” Gnaedinger, who was still good friends with the women at the U&I when it closed, affirms this interpretation, as does former police officer and local museum manager Butch Jacobson, who echoed, “The FBI did not close them down—it was the AIDS scare,” adding, “my own personal opinion: I wish we still had them around.” That’s as close as it gets to an official story around town. The last brothel, the U&I Rooms, stayed open until just a few weeks prior to the raid, but people say the real reason the century of brothels ended was a result of AIDS and the lousy economy.

  Dolores’s grave in Tacoma, Washington, near the grave of her mother, Jennie. Photos by Heather Branstetter.

  It does seem likely that federal intervention affected the timing of the houses’ closure, however. Local historian and former Wallace District Mining Museum director John Amonson agreed with the majority opinion that a dwindling demand for services had contributed to the end of decriminalized prostitution in Wallace, but Amonson also named “the influence of the FBI’s investigation” as the “final blow” that “brought what was probably a tapering off of that industry to a more abrupt halt.”284 Another research informant told me that “one of the FBI agents had went up there [to the U&I] and evidently in a ‘moment of weakness’ he told Tanya, ‘better get out of town, something’s coming down.’ And that’s why they left, just overnight.”285 In a move that many people would later describe as “overkill,” the FBI sent agents over the Fourth of July Pass and raided almost every bar in Shoshone County from Cataldo to Mullan. They even accidentally raided one or two bars in neighboring Kootenai County as well. Amonson summarized the local attitude as he told a story about how one of the regional newspapers reported the incident. An article