The Daily Astorian asked for some interesting stories from people who had experiences during the visit of the USS Missouri back in 1998.

Glenn Taggart described his reminiscences as “paydirt.”

As a former Port of Astoria commissioner during the time when Big Mo arrived at the port docks, I was afforded numerous opportunities to board the ship, attend ceremonies, etc. As the Andy Warhol’s saying goes, “In the future everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.” In my case, I got about 30 minutes with the late great Jim Bosley (Boz) on channel two’s AM Northwest show.

I won’t go into much detail about my first time on television but it was incredibly interesting. From eating donuts and drinking coffee in the green room, to watching the rest of the show from back stage was just plain cool. Not to mention getting interviewed about the Mighty Mo from The Boz.

It’s the story I didn’t tell on AM Northwest that nearly sent me on a free trip to Hawaii.

My adventure on the USS Missouri took place quite by accident and innocently. My good friend and former American Family Insurance agent, Chuck Patischal, who was a son-in-law to another good friend of mine, the late great Columbia River Bar Pilot, Paul Jackson, was invited to join Paul to cruise in from the Columbia River bar to the docking location on board the Mighty Mo.

Back in my wilder days, we would all join forces occasionally (OK, more than occasionally) at the Ship Inn for beverage and lie swapping. I can’t seem to remember what day it was, but on this particular day, Chuck entered the highly esteemed Ship’s Inn with what I can only describe as a “you won’t believe where I have been” look on his face. To put it mildly, he had a grin that stretched the better part of the bar.

“What’s with the big grin, Chuck?” I asked.

“Glenn, you will never guess where I have just been”.

“Gee Chuck, there’s not enough time in the day, spill your guts”.

“I just rode in from the mouth of the river on the Missouri”.

“Cool” I said.

Chuck went on to tell me about his adventure that took him throughout the innards of the ships hull from engine room to master’s quarters, into the war room, sleeping quarters, pretty much toured the whole inside. “It was pretty dark” he said. Chuck had his trusty flashlight though to see everything.

For those of you who don’t know Chuck, he has this unique facial expression that I commonly refer to as his “you wanna do something real cool” look. Well, long story short, this look appeared on his face and he blurted out “You wanna do something real cool?”

I said “Sure”. This my friends, was the beginning of what nearly became a perilous free journey to Hawaii.

Chuck and I jumped in his jeep. Five minutes later found us up front and personal with the USS Missouri. This large former warship which is famous for the historic event of the signatures that led to the end of World War II had just pulled up to the Port of Astoria’s pier one.

The longshoremen were busy fastening the ship to the dock and I asked one of the forklift drivers if he would be so kind to give Chuck and I a lift up to the ship. He looked around to see if anyone would notice and waved us on to the forks and lifted us up.

Being on a ship of this size and standing on a deck that helped define American history is a humbling experience and I was overwhelmed. It was now obvious to me why Chuck was grinning. I found myself with that same ear to ear grin. For those of you who were fortunate enough to have been able to board the Big Mo, you know that feeling.

For the next 30 minutes or so, we toured the forward, mid, and aft ends of the ship. Chuck looked at me and said, OK, are you ready for the inside? He said he spent about an hour or so touring the inside of the ship with his trusty flashlight and that he would afford me the same tour. During the short stay of the Missouri, only the deck was accessible by visitors. The inside was pitch dark and off limits so to be able to tour the inside was a real treat.

We went into the ship at about 6 p.m. Chuck lead me through the engine room, galley, staterooms, war rooms, com rooms and finally ended up in the sleeping quarters. I told Chuck that I was glad he had his trusty flashlight because it was a huge maze and without a light, it would be incredibly difficult to find your way out. The beds in the sleeping quarters are incredibly small. I decided to try one out. Yup, very small.

Then it went dark. I told Chuck that he could stop fooling around with the light anytime. He informed me that his trusty flashlight was no longer working and that the batteries had run out. He shook it a few times. It came back on. Phew, I got out of the bed and looked at him and said we better get out before the light really goes … It went out again. This time it didn’t come back on.

There are varying degrees of darkness. There is the no moon darkness that you can barely see, the full moon darkness that you can see where you are going, and what I now call “the USS Missouri hull darkness” in which you can’t see anything at all. There has been no time before nor anytime since that I have experienced such complete darkness. I was a little freaked out.

“Uh, Chuck, do you have any idea how we are going to get top side?”

“Glenn, this is not good. We could be going around in circles and never know it. If memory serves me right, there are few accessible ladders that head topside.”

I’m not the kind of person to panic. I am real cool headed, especially when faced with difficult situations. I have been an on-again, off-again smoker who was currently “off-again.” Fortunately for Chuck and myself, I still carried my lighter although my off-again episodes usually started at the end my lighters’ life. One of those, out of butane? Quit smoking kinda things. I pulled the lighter out of my pocket and fired it up. We started moving out.

For the next two hours, we stumbled and fumbled our way around in the dark hull. Flick the lighter, move a few yards, flick the lighter, move. Finally, Chuck recognized we were in an area he had been on his way down. We made our way up and out. Man, was I ever grateful to see the light of day again.

What freaked me out the most was the next morning, they were going to secure the ship and that meant sealing the doors shut. We would have never been heard once those doors were sealed. Without that lighter, I am suspect if we would have made it out. No one knew we were there.

All in all, when I look back at the time the Missouri visited us, I still think about the feeling of awe I had when I first set foot on her deck. I’m glad that when I get old, I will be able to tell of my brush with history with the Big Mo and at the same time creating a little self history.

Glenn Taggart

(503) 440-1010

Danny Butler and Sharon Rose, owners of the Triangle Tavern building, have a pewter “Astoria Oregon” plate that was found in a Portland antique store. Glued to the back of the plate is a card with the following typed on it:

June 3, 1998, ‘Mighty Mo’ Booms Astoria’s Economy, Astoria, OR: “Astoria has been a fantastic experience and exceeded all of our wildest expectations,” said Association President Roy Yee. “We couldn’t have asked for a better reception from the citizens, volunteers, and community for this national landmark. The city of Astoria did everything possible to make the Missouri’s one-week stay a huge success.” The “Mighty Mo” will carry a part of Astoria on its final voyage home to Pearl Harbor. A pewter plate presented by Mayor Willis Van Dusen will accompany the ship.

The impact on this quiet, hillside community of 10,000 residents has been staggering. Astoria Fire Chief Lane Wintermute estimates over 125,000 people visited the Port of Astoria to see the historic battleship. Of that total, 57,040 patiently waited in lines often stretching 3-4 hours during peak periods for a chance to walk the main deck, pose with the massive 16-inch gins, and stand on the Surrender Deck.

When shipboard visits began May 28, unprecedented crowds began descending upon Astoria. Traffic slowed to a crawl for miles in every direction. Hotels were booked solid 20 miles to the north and south. Restaurants were jammed throughout the day, with some forced to bring in help from other parts of the state. Astoria responded with more than 500 community volunteers to handle the crush of visitors.

The Missouri created interest and excitement in many forms. Gen. John Shalikashvili, former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, paid a special visit on Sunday. Master Chief Katherine Morrison re-enlisted in the Navy for six years on the main deck before family and friends. An Eagle Scout ceremony was held Saturday evening. A marriage proposal was made and accepted in front of the 16-inch guns.

Michael Paul McCusker, of Astoria, offered the following memories:

I was part of a volunteer crew provided by the Columbia River Maritime Museum to guide the 55,000 or so visitors aboard the USS Missouri when it came to Astoria 10 years ago.

I was primarily on the Surrender Deck helping hasten the crowds through their tour of the old battleship. They were generally friendly and excited to be aboard Missouri on its last stop on the U.S. mainland before taking station near the USS Arizona memorial at Pearl Harbor, where it remains as one of a pair of bookends signifying America’s disastrous entry and virtually total victory (with help from a number of allies) in World War II.

But quite a number who came aboard refused to climb the stairs used by the Japanese dignitaries who signed the surrender documents in Tokyo Bay on Sept. 2, 1945 that ended the war. Curiously, most of those who were openly prejudiced against Japanese were too young to have served in the war, or to have even been born at the time. Most of the Pacific War veterans who passed aboard were much kinder and more sagacious in their descriptions of their former enemy.

I believe I was the only one of the crew of Columbia River Maritime Museum guides who did not have his or her photograph taken next to Missouri’s main battery of huge guns for a personal memento. I am a U.S. Marine Corps veteran of the Vietnam War, and chose to have my photo taken alongside the single, much smaller-caliber gun battery that had been manned exclusively by Marines stationed aboard Missouri during the war.

Two other significant memories remain from 1998: my father’s death and my unsuccessful campaign for Mayor of Astoria.

Any other memories? E-mail your comments to Elleda Wilson at (ewilson@dailyastorian.com). Include your name, hometown and daytime telephone number for verification.