In 1943, as I recall, I worked at the mansion. It must have been during my Junior
year at Olympia High School, across the road from the Capitol grounds, almost directly
across from where the fountain is now. The official name of the school was William
Winlock Miller, but we all called it Olympia High. My name was Nadine Seymour then.
My father, Bill Seymour, was a security guard at the Capitol and he would go around
and check the mansion, and he became acquainted with then-governor Arthur B. Langlie.
In fact, one time the governor shared his stomach pills with my father. The Governor
really was a friendly person.
My first job was to stand at the door wearing what was kind of lightweight black
taffeta maid’s dress that was very long for someone during the time of shorter skirts.
I’d take the people’s coats and hang them. It was a room at the entrance, where
on either side in the foyer, there were mirrors. One could see from that mirror
to that mirror. You could see a hundred views of yourself standing there. I'm not
sure how I got that job. It could have been that my father told them I could do
that kind of work or if Miss Crockett, the dean of girls at the high school, recommended
me. Later, I was a companion for the daughter of a Supreme Court judge, who was
going to go east of the mountains. She had just been widowed and wanted a companion
to stay with her for a couple of days.
On Thursdays, Mrs. Langlie would have a tea party for the wives of the legislators,
and we’d serve them. I’d carry cookies around and offer them to people. One time
they had evening guests and I remember that two of the guests were Senator Copeland
and his wife from Walla Walla. This was during the War, so there was a shortage
of coffee beans. At the old sideboard on the end of the dining room, I made Postum
and served it to the people. For those who don't remember Postum, it was a poor
excuse for coffee, but it was a liquid and the same color and hot.
The Langlies were teetotalers and, I recall one evening, Lieutenant Governor Vic
Meyers was at a party at the mansion and he said to his companion, “Come on, let’s
go down to the hotel where we can get a drink.” So, they had no alcohol and no coffee
at these affairs.
I remember, too, that on another big sideboard in the dining room, there were a
lot of huge silver pieces from the ship Olympia and that somebody else, a man, was
polishing them. That wasn't my job.
Another time, the Governor had to go to Seattle for some medical problem, and they
asked me to be a companion for Grandma Langlie. I don’t remember spending much time
with her in the daytime or anything, but I did sleep in the other twin bed in her
room. And years later, when Monrad Wallgren was governor, his friend President Truman
came to Olympia and stayed in that bedroom. That was always something I liked to
tell about. The picture of the mansion was in the newspaper, and it pointed out
the bedroom where President Truman had slept.
I can remember going in the ballroom and seeing all those delicate gold chairs.
And at one end of the room was a console. It had a record player. And I remember
Arthur Jr. having some records that he shared. Arthur Sheridan was his name and
he must have been eleven or twelve years old, at the time.
I helped in the kitchen, too, a little bit. There was a very efficient cook in there,
but I would help her by taking the strings off celery and cutting around the grapefruit
for breakfast. The kitchen was a big sunny room, and there was a breakfast nook
close to the entrance to the dining room. I remember my dad coming into the kitchen
one time for coffee [Postum?].
The Langlies were friendly people, because when my father died at only sixty-three,
my mother got a nice letter from Mrs. Langlie saying how much they appreciated my
father’s work there. I have returned in later years on tours. And it was fun to
see everything.