Listening to Angie Clothier is like watching fireworks: topics bursting bright and fast, streaming every direction, eliciting wonder. Her greatest challenge appears to be that she “liked to do too many things,” but, considering that Angie has worked in over 30 different occupations, it’s a challenge she has met.
Growing up in northern Minnesota, Angelina Simunovich’s first jobs after high school included ballroom dancing teacher. Instruction began as soon as “Miss Sims” learned ballroom dancing herself, a pattern apparent throughout her life. From her Serbian-influenced childhood full of circle-dancing, Angie says, “I lived to dance,” and she jitterbugged and waltzed her way through the late 1950s.
Angie attended college, but enjoyed cheerleading more than class. Desiring to be useful, she started work with the County Assessor. In 1961 she married her high school sweetheart, Don Poole, and the couple soon left Minnesota – “the best move we ever made.” Don felt drawn to western Washington ever since accompanying a buddy who ran away from home to an uncle there. So the Pooles started their family in Washington, daughter Cathy and son Donie in quick succession. During the next eight years, they lived in several towns east of Seattle, and Angie, as full-time mother and Brownie troupe leader (to 20 girls), became the go-to mom for all the neighbor kids.
In 1969, with new baby Doug, Angie and Don took a huge step, moving to Lopez to run the ferry landing, which—though newcomers might find it hard to visualize—included a restaurant then, Upright House. Don learned that Upright House, including tiny living quarters, was for sale. After a brief look, the Pooles bought it. Angie says, “I never heard of Lopez until Saturday when Don got home, and we lived here on Wednesday. Crazy, huh?” Suddenly Angie was a chef: “Mary Fredrickson, the previous owner, taught me how to run the restaurant, and how to make pie, all in one day.” Folks poured in. Local kids babysat the children while Angie cooked, or took turns with Don selling tickets and running the dock. Besides baking up to 22 pies a day, Angie learned tricks like how to cook a frozen steak (wrap it in lettuce to insulate while grilling), and swiftly got to know everyone.
The ferry landing gig ended after two and a half years, giving way to a diverse series of jobs. After quitting as realty receptionist because she didn’t have enough to do (an unacceptable situation), Angie found her energy fully utilized at Sunset Hardware. “I learned from every contractor and read all the labels,” Angie says. “I had to know everything about everything, so I could teach people.”
Leaving Sunset in 1980, Angie was hired to assist a drywall taper, hauling 50-pound boxes of “mud” (“I really hated that,” she concedes). But when her boss moved away, Angie inherited his taping job. Once more, with little experience, she threw herself in. “I became a pretty darn good taper…and I’m still asked to do it sometimes. I taped the fire hall,” she adds proudly.
When Angie’s marriage ended in 1979, she took paramedic training on the mainland. This led to a job in southwestern Alaska in 1983. With teenage Doug, Angie moved to tiny Bethel, inaccessible by land, flying with patients to the Anchorage clinic, “399 miles away.” When the police department needed a dispatcher, Angie stepped up, even though she could only type 20 words per minute. A week later, she was up to 76. She also substitute-taught, with equal lack of training.
Soon, though, Angie and Doug moved back to Lopez, and Angie dived into the carpet-cleaning business, with a partner. Then, expanding into general housecleaning, she started “House Angels.” At one point the company cleaned 27 houses per week, with four employees; later, Angie decided to cut the business back down to herself.
In the early 90s, remarried, Angie bought a new Ford and started Angie’s Cab. “I loved that business more than any,” she says, “because I love people.” But that Ford required payments, so she continued taping, painting houses and cleaning offices. She also started a personal-shopping business, making runs to the mainland. Angie’s Cab sold after nearly 10 years, but the shopping business ran for 23, ending only last year.
Divorced again in 1998, Angie declared herself out of the market, but one of her cab customers convinced her to meet Bill Clothier. Angie and Bill have been married now for 15 years. With 10 grandchildren, their home bursts with kids, toys and life.
Today, spurred by her job as Events Coordinator for Woodmen Hall, Angie teaches line dancing, returning to her early love. In typical fashion, she “learned just enough” from her sister to be able to teach others to line-dance. “If I’m interested in something, I will learn,” Angie states. That might as well be her motto – that, or “I can’t not do something.”
