In October, 2026, Skip Sommer announced he had written his last “Petaluma’s Past” column for the Argus-Courier, marking the end of an era.
Skip, who turned 95 a few weeks later, began writing his local history column in 1987, a decade after making some local history of his own. A former stage actor and IBM salesman turned historic theme developer, in 1976 Skip readapted a shuttered grain mill into an arcade of specialty shops called The Great Petaluma Mill, kicking off a restoration boom that revived Petaluma’s historic downtown.
Skip’s business card back then read: “Skip Sommer, historical restoration with verve.” He brought that same verve to chronicling historical events.
“It was in 1987,” Skip recalled, “that the publisher of the Petaluma Post, David Bennett, took me for a beer at McNear’s Saloon and asked me to join his newspaper staff as their history columnist. I resisted until the third beer. Now, 40 years later, after some 600 columns in the Post and, for the past decade, the Argus-Courier, I’m calling it quits.”[1]
While his columns chronicled a wide range of national and international historical events, Skip always brought them back to what was happening in Petaluma at the time. His columns — a mix of political and social events, news tidbits, and wry observations — read like a letter from an old friend with a knowing wink and smile.
It was his asides of snide humor — a skill Skip mastered in his acting days on stage — that brought verve to his columns. In tribute to Skip, I’ve selected a few of my favorites:
- In 1909, canned beer had not yet been invented, but marijuana, heroin and morphine were all available over the county. In fact, one Petaluma pharmacy advertised: “Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind and regulates the bowels.” Oh boy![2]
- In 1911, a California ordinance was instituted against “the obnoxious dance, the Rag.” In Petaluma, it was a misdemeanor to dance the Rag. The editor of the Petaluma Courier wrote that, “if a couple was to begin to indulge in this vile manner, the music should stop to halt the evil.” Wowie. Good thing he never saw the Twist.[3]
- In 1912, Petaluma’s Raymond Brothers Clothing carried Warner’s “rust-proof shaping corset for the growing girl.” (Really, rust-proof?) And if one became ill in Petaluma, one could always go to “H.L. Lorenzen, physician and surgeon, specializing in electrical and vibratory treatment.” Oh boy![4]
- In 1852, sanitation and hygiene were non-existent in Petaluma. There were no sewers, penicillin or even Band-Aids. A simple cut or burn could have been lethal. Popular medical treatments included pouring whiskey on wounds or splashing on a poultice of wet cow dung. Petaluma’s drinking water was brought in by barrel from local springs. You could buy a bath in a tin tub upstairs over the saloon. The choices included “cold water, warm water, first water or second water.” Having a saloon girl wash your back cost extra. Zowie![5]
- In 1889, there were 64 telephones in Petaluma. The editor of the Petaluma Argus commented, “Even Nicasio will now be connected to the wicked world, and some are in favor of extending the telephone to Olema!” Be still my heart![6]
- Lest today’s homeowners lust after Petaluma’s elegant Victorians, keep in mind they were not so comfy back in the day. While some indoor plumbing was to be had in 1890, the good old outhouse was the standard, making for a mighty cold run out the back door on a wintry night. And those icy wood seats? Oh well.[7]
- In 1903, Petaluma was having its troubles. A strike was threatening to permanently close the silk mill, an actual snowfall contributed to massive flooding, and houses of ill-repute, frequented by “the worst of depraved men,” were declared by the Petaluma Argus to be “a nuisance and disgrace to our wholesome community!” But on the plus side, our first bowling alleys were popping up, several beer gardens were adding something called ping-pong, and Dr. John Kergan announced he would be at the Washington Hotel for two days, providing cures for “catarrh, bowel troubles, liver and kidney ills, piles and obscure diseases.” All this at the hotel?[8]
- Prohibition ended on March 16, 1933, when the U.S. Senate voted to allow beer to be manufactured and imbibed if its alcohol content was reduced to 3.2 percent from the 5 percent it had been prior to Prohibition. Our Argus-Courier boasted the following headline: “Beer Will Be Available for Breakfast Here.” For breakfast? Really?[9]
- Prior to 1933, our local habit had been to flush sewage right into the Petaluma River. Our Chamber of Commerce actually bragged that “Petaluma sewers were flushed clean by the tides twice a day!” A real sanitary system, Petaluma’s mayor proclaimed, “will convert the river into one of the best saltwater fishing streams in the State.” Ah, rocket science.[10]
- In May of 1945, there were two subjects that dominated the news in Petaluma. One, of course, was World War II. The other was a growing debate over California permitting manufacturers of oleomargarine to color their product yellow. Local dairymen were up in arms. An editorial in the Argus-Courier stated, “The color does something to butter that does not happen to oleo!” Do tell.[11]
- While war raged around the world in the summer of 1944, in the Valley of the Moon a fight was blossoming over the Sun-O-Ma Nudist Colony. The Press Democrat, “getting down to the bare facts regarding those nude nomads flitting around the Sonoma hills,” reported that they were about to “learn the naked truth of poison oak and mosquitos.” But the poignant question was how, with gasoline rationed during wartime, did the nudists acquire enough gas to get to the camp? To find out, the Office of Price Administration staged a raid on the camp. “The agents who drew the lucky assignment,” the newspaper reported, “were a couple of hardy boys who came out still blushing.” One young lass was “standing unabashed with her curves,” exclaiming “Heavens, my husband doesn’t know I’ve been using the car to come up here!” The Press Democrat’s headline read: “200 Cavorting Nudes Facing Loss of Gas!” (The devil made me include that quote).[12]
“History is always a mixed bag,” Skip noted, summing up his 40 years as a columnist. “It’s been great fun exploring the intriguing backstory of our exceptional small town.”
A version of this story appeared in the Petaluma Argus-Courier, November 6, 2026.
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FOOTNOTES:
[1] Adapted with Skip from his Petaluma’s Past column, January 12, 2017.
[2] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 14, 2016.
[3] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 30, 2016.
[4] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 6, 2016.
[5] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 19, 2016.
[6] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 7, 2016.
[7] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 14, 2017.
[8] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 9, 2023.
[9] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 22, 2018.
[10] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 13, 2019.
[11] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 5, 2016.
[12] Petaluma’s Past column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 18, 2019.
[13] Petaluma’s Past columns, Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 12, 2017, and March 7, 2019.