George Everett Sholin
By

Edith Sholin Doubleday
August 8, 1998

As the third of his four daughters, I have chosen three characteristics important to me in order to describe the life and person of George Everett Sholin as I knew him. First was his pride in his Swedish heritage. He often said proudly he was "a full blood Swede," so I am certain he would want to be fully represented in this Sholin family history. A second characteristic was his view as a pioneer, as an early settler. I have a photograph taken in 1915 of his parents' (Jonas and Sophia) large three story residence on Portland Heights in Portland, Oregon, situated on a steep slope in virgin territory with no visible road; his handwritten comment on the photo is, "Pioneers of Oregon."  His pioneer approach was strong throughout his life and an important part of the third characteristic, that as outdoorsman.

Dad introduced himself as "a patternmaker by trade." While he considered it very important to have a trade, he was uncomfortable working indoors "at the bench," and dreamed of earning a living in the outdoors. In pursuit of that dream, in the 1930s he built a fishing resort on Point San Pablo in San Pablo Bay, an upper extension of the San Francisco Bay. An aerial photograph of the tidy fishing resort reveals the ambitious scope and the impressive skills which were required of him: There is the steep and winding road over the hills to a large parking lot; the large workshop supported by piles on the shoreline, in which he built sturdy 18' rowboats, includes a small lunch counter and an exterior staircase to upstairs bedrooms; two outhouses are a short distance away on the other side of the railroad track; a walkway, supported by piles, stretches from the workshop to a barge. A long, narrow float under the walkway is secured to the piles, and accessed by a short ramp from the shoreside of the barge. At the end of the float is a mechanical setup to raise the boats on their side for washing with buckets of water after each use. The barge creates a harbor for the rowboats, tied to the float in a neat row, and a small tugboat parked alongside.

A "Sholin's Fishing Resort" sign was posted. Family members referred to the resort as "The Place." Then a teenager, I was there during weekends and summer vacations. Drinking water was hauled from our home in Berkeley in five gallon cans in our Model A Ford. Dad towed long lines of boats to the best fishing areas for large striped bass. I went along for the ride and often the water was choppy and the waves vigorous. Dad watched with binoculars from the shore for a raised oar, the signal when fishermen wanted to come in. A scale hung on the walkway where fish were weighed and pictures taken of fishermen with their catch.  Hamburgers, Coke and coffee were available in the lunchroom. Because the rowboats were large relative to my size, Dad taught me to row standing up, to "fall on the oars," and I moved them into position to be
washed and then taken away.

I appreciate the memory of my father during this period of our lives. I honor his example of creativity, self-sufficiency, working with one's hands, enjoyment of physical labor, and his accommodating, confident and capable ways.