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Harvey Quay Snyder
06/15/1910 — 03/29/2004
From Richland, WA, US | Born in Arapahoe, Colorado
Harvey Quay Snyder
Harvey Quay Snyder, 93, of Richland, WA, died peacefully on March 29, 2004, at Quail Hollow. He was born on June 15, 1910, at his familys homestead near Arapahoe, CO.
Harvey is survived by his beloved wife, Nancy Murray Snyder of Richland. Other survivors are his daughter, Donna Courtney and granddaughter, Katherine Rettke, both of Bethesda, MD and his sister, Lucille Romack of Gunnison, CO. His first wfe, Mareta Wright Snyder, died in 1997. Harvey brought Mareta and their daughter, Donna, to Richland from Colorado in 1944 to work at Hanford as a plutonium inspector.
After keeping the sewing machines at Kadlec Hospital in good condition for over 30 years, Harvey was made the first male honorary member of the Kadlec Hospital Auxillary.
He was active for many years in amateur horseshoe pitching with about 62 percent ringers when he stopped pitching.
A graveside service will be held in Sunset Memorial Gardens at 1:30 p.m. on Thursday, April 1, 2004, and will be followed with a memorial service at 2:00 p.m. at Westside Church, 603 Wright Ave., Richland, WA. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to Kadlec Hospital Auxillary, 888 Swift Blvd., Richland, WA.
Life has to end but love does not. When someone you love becomes a memory the memory becomes a treasure. When you have a happy marriage, you manage to go on.
I am a cousin of Harvey Snyder and knew him when he was a young man in Eastern Colorado. He liked to fish and it was here that he started his amazing involvement in pitching horseshoes. He was possibly the strongest, physical speciman in our family. A hard worker, he raised cattle at an early age and was successful at it. He was good to the kids and did not have an enemy in the country. He will be missed by all of us who knew and loved him. Gene
From Vera, Gene’s wife. I met Harvey after I married Gene and thought him the most considerate, gentle Snyder I had the pleasure of knowing.
It was a privilge and honor to have known this special man.
As a child I always enjoyed the times that Uncle Harvey, Aunt Mareta and Donna came to visit my parents in Colorado.
My thoughts and prayers are with all of you at this time.
Travel was a delight for all who rode the school bus. For parents it was a feeling of content as they knew their children were in the strong capable hands of Harvey “Stump” Snyder. He was a special driver.
The Arapahoe Community was so blessed to count Harvey, his family, his father Sam, sister Lucille, & brother Johnny as a part of their daily lives.
Praise be!
I have so much to be grateful to my grandfather for. Mostly I remember him as a kind and gentle and sweet man. Thank you so much to everyone who added some sweetness and pleasure to his life, he deserved every bit of happiness and joy and sweetness on earth he could find and I am so grateful to everyone who added pleasure to his life.
I first met Harvey in 1967 in Clarkston, WA at the Lewis and Clark Open horseshoe tournament. We were in “B” Class as I remember and I thought I was pretty good. I never won a game and Harvey can over and congratulated me for being there. I soon learned of his knowledge of horseshoes and the great men he knew personally who played the game.
I really believe he was a giant in Washingotn Horseshoes and a true gentleman. Always a gentleman on and off the courts.
Harvey was my first contact with a “professional” horseshoe pitcher and I learned much from him.
Harvey had already given up pitching tournaments around the state when I first met him in 1986. He was the first and only National Hhorseshoe Pitching Aassociation member in our area for a long time.
I spent many an lunch hour pitching shoes with Harvey. Even though he had stopped pitching tournaments, he was still a very good pitcher and it took some doing to beat him. Over the years, his ability to get the shoe all the way to the peg waned, but he still pitched the 40 foot distance. He would quite often say – “Vey, I can easily throw that shoe clear over that stake”, especially when it landed two inches short of a ringer.
During the winter and inclement weather days, Harvey and I would give up the horseshoe pitching for a lunch hour of pool shooting. He was good at that also.
The times I cherished the most were visiting with Harvey and Mareta and then later with Harvey and Nancy. The stories he could tell about not only horseshoes, but the traveling he had done, the places he had visited, and the experiences he had had. He could tell you the name and number of every highway he had traveled and relate what he had seen and done in such a manner that you could visualize the scene with him. I heard several of Harvey’s stories repeated on occasion, but they were always consistent and always entertaining.
Harvey celebrated his 90th birthday with us at the Columbia Basin Horseshoe Club spring potluck dinner a few years ago. It was a surprise party and he felt really honored that we had remembered him. The club also dedicated our Columbia Basin Open tournament to Harvey that year and he had the honor of pitching the first shoes to start the tournament.
Those of us that knew Harvey will never forget him. I was very fortunate to have known Harvey. He was a blessing and a friend.
Our sincere sympathy to all the family of Harvey Snyder.
Hi Donna, many memories flood back to my piano lesson days when we both lived on Benham. I’d ride my bike from ll00 block to your home for my 1/2 hour lesson. My but you were SOOOO much older than me then!
Later I remember hearing from your folks to keep you and your baby daughter in prayer when she was born. Your dad and my mom were born the same year. It was fun running into you with Nancy a couple of years ago when you were home visiting. My sister Jeanie lives in Bellingham. She too sends her greetings and sympathy to you all.
You’re in our prayers as you complete one more chapter in the Snyder book. HUGS and love, Carl and Ruthann Jensen.
I had just about the greatest dad there ever was. He lived his life as an example of honesty, generosity and kindness to others. When I was growing up we always took a two-week road trip every summer and eventually we saw a huge portion of the West and quite a bit of western Canada. We often camped out with a tent and sleeping bags. My dad and I became quick and proficient in putting up the tent while my mother busied herself with meal preparation.
My dad had many interests in the scientific world and followed world and national events with particular interest. He was a whiz at mathematics, and I never would have passed high school algebra and geometry without his instruction night after night.
I loved to hear my dad tell about his adventures growing up in eastern Colorado. He and his brother Johnny would get into a world of mischief when their parents left the farm to drive to town for a few hours. First, they would “shave” with their dad’s straight-edge razor. Then they would make candy. Then they would take down the shotgun, which was prohibited. Even when their young uncle Paul Snyder was watching them, they would manage to sneak the shotgun out of the house and shoot it. They rode all over their part of the county on horseback. At one time they had a cheese factory on their farm, and he loved to tell how his little sister Lucille fell into the vat of milk and how they fished her out and then continued making that batch of cheese.
When my mother became a total invalid due to multiple strokes, my dad became her sole caregiver for ten long years. I don’t know any other man or woman who has the stamina or willingness to take on such a job without help. Besides bathing, dressing and giving my mother insulin shots twice a day, he did the laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and took care of a small vegetable garden. He even baked cookies. I finally, after nine years, talked him into hiring healthcare professionals to come into the house two afternoons a week. But for the most part, he did it all himself.
After my mother passed away, I was pleased when my dad found such a nice lady as Nancy. It is too bad that their happy years together were all too short. I pray that a cure will be found some day soon for Alzheimer’s.
I am a cousin of Harvey Snyder and knew him when he was a young man in Eastern Colorado. He liked to fish and it was here that he started his amazing involvement in pitching horseshoes. He was possibly the strongest, physical speciman in our family. A hard worker, he raised cattle at an early age and was successful at it. He was good to the kids and did not have an enemy in the country. He will be missed by all of us who knew and loved him. Gene
From Vera, Gene’s wife. I met Harvey after I married Gene and thought him the most considerate, gentle Snyder I had the pleasure of knowing.
It was a privilge and honor to have known this special man.
As a child I always enjoyed the times that Uncle Harvey, Aunt Mareta and Donna came to visit my parents in Colorado.
My thoughts and prayers are with all of you at this time.
Travel was a delight for all who rode the school bus. For parents it was a feeling of content as they knew their children were in the strong capable hands of Harvey “Stump” Snyder. He was a special driver.
The Arapahoe Community was so blessed to count Harvey, his family, his father Sam, sister Lucille, & brother Johnny as a part of their daily lives.
Praise be!
I have so much to be grateful to my grandfather for. Mostly I remember him as a kind and gentle and sweet man. Thank you so much to everyone who added some sweetness and pleasure to his life, he deserved every bit of happiness and joy and sweetness on earth he could find and I am so grateful to everyone who added pleasure to his life.
I first met Harvey in 1967 in Clarkston, WA at the Lewis and Clark Open horseshoe tournament. We were in “B” Class as I remember and I thought I was pretty good. I never won a game and Harvey can over and congratulated me for being there. I soon learned of his knowledge of horseshoes and the great men he knew personally who played the game.
I really believe he was a giant in Washingotn Horseshoes and a true gentleman. Always a gentleman on and off the courts.
Harvey was my first contact with a “professional” horseshoe pitcher and I learned much from him.
Harvey had already given up pitching tournaments around the state when I first met him in 1986. He was the first and only National Hhorseshoe Pitching Aassociation member in our area for a long time.
I spent many an lunch hour pitching shoes with Harvey. Even though he had stopped pitching tournaments, he was still a very good pitcher and it took some doing to beat him. Over the years, his ability to get the shoe all the way to the peg waned, but he still pitched the 40 foot distance. He would quite often say – “Vey, I can easily throw that shoe clear over that stake”, especially when it landed two inches short of a ringer.
During the winter and inclement weather days, Harvey and I would give up the horseshoe pitching for a lunch hour of pool shooting. He was good at that also.
The times I cherished the most were visiting with Harvey and Mareta and then later with Harvey and Nancy. The stories he could tell about not only horseshoes, but the traveling he had done, the places he had visited, and the experiences he had had. He could tell you the name and number of every highway he had traveled and relate what he had seen and done in such a manner that you could visualize the scene with him. I heard several of Harvey’s stories repeated on occasion, but they were always consistent and always entertaining.
Harvey celebrated his 90th birthday with us at the Columbia Basin Horseshoe Club spring potluck dinner a few years ago. It was a surprise party and he felt really honored that we had remembered him. The club also dedicated our Columbia Basin Open tournament to Harvey that year and he had the honor of pitching the first shoes to start the tournament.
Those of us that knew Harvey will never forget him. I was very fortunate to have known Harvey. He was a blessing and a friend.
Our sincere sympathy to all the family of Harvey Snyder.
Hi Donna, many memories flood back to my piano lesson days when we both lived on Benham. I’d ride my bike from ll00 block to your home for my 1/2 hour lesson. My but you were SOOOO much older than me then!
Later I remember hearing from your folks to keep you and your baby daughter in prayer when she was born. Your dad and my mom were born the same year. It was fun running into you with Nancy a couple of years ago when you were home visiting. My sister Jeanie lives in Bellingham. She too sends her greetings and sympathy to you all.
You’re in our prayers as you complete one more chapter in the Snyder book. HUGS and love, Carl and Ruthann Jensen.
I had just about the greatest dad there ever was. He lived his life as an example of honesty, generosity and kindness to others. When I was growing up we always took a two-week road trip every summer and eventually we saw a huge portion of the West and quite a bit of western Canada. We often camped out with a tent and sleeping bags. My dad and I became quick and proficient in putting up the tent while my mother busied herself with meal preparation.
My dad had many interests in the scientific world and followed world and national events with particular interest. He was a whiz at mathematics, and I never would have passed high school algebra and geometry without his instruction night after night.
I loved to hear my dad tell about his adventures growing up in eastern Colorado. He and his brother Johnny would get into a world of mischief when their parents left the farm to drive to town for a few hours. First, they would “shave” with their dad’s straight-edge razor. Then they would make candy. Then they would take down the shotgun, which was prohibited. Even when their young uncle Paul Snyder was watching them, they would manage to sneak the shotgun out of the house and shoot it. They rode all over their part of the county on horseback. At one time they had a cheese factory on their farm, and he loved to tell how his little sister Lucille fell into the vat of milk and how they fished her out and then continued making that batch of cheese.
When my mother became a total invalid due to multiple strokes, my dad became her sole caregiver for ten long years. I don’t know any other man or woman who has the stamina or willingness to take on such a job without help. Besides bathing, dressing and giving my mother insulin shots twice a day, he did the laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and took care of a small vegetable garden. He even baked cookies. I finally, after nine years, talked him into hiring healthcare professionals to come into the house two afternoons a week. But for the most part, he did it all himself.
After my mother passed away, I was pleased when my dad found such a nice lady as Nancy. It is too bad that their happy years together were all too short. I pray that a cure will be found some day soon for Alzheimer’s.
It was with profound sadness that we learned of Mr. Snyder’s death. We remember with fondness his courtly manners, his upright posture, his warm sense of humor, and most of all, his obvious love for his family. He surely took pride and relief in the steadfast attention he enjoyed during his long illness. Nancy, Donna and Kathy, you remain in our hearts and in our prayers.
Nancy,
He will be with you always as all our loved ones are that leave this world before us.
My Dad still beats in my heart tho he has been gone for a decade. Love is strong and lasts forever.
Peggy
The following was composed by Harvey and Nancy on April 15, 2001. It was read at the Columbia Basin Horseshoe Tournament that was Dedicated to honor Harvey that month.
Horseshoe Pitching
Easter Sunday, April 15, 2001
by Harvey Snyder as told to Nancy
I was born on June 15, 1910 on a ranch where my father took out a homestead 7 miles S. E. from
Arapahoe, Colorado. My mother died in 1927 when I was 17.
My earliest memories of pitching horseshoes was about the time of the Civil War about 1925
My friend, Carl Anderson , would come over to see me and we would set the lantern by one stake and build a fire by the stake at the other end. We would play for several hours by the light of the lantern and the fire. Carl could never pitch an open shoe having the open end in front but I could. Unless you could throw an open shoe at that time , you were not considered a horseshoe pitcher.
I went to town one day and on the North side of Jim Shaffers garage where I noticed several men
and they were all throwing open shoes and they were making ringers. I got to where I could pitch
50% ringers.
Later, Carl and I decided to pitch at the County Fair in Cheyenne, Wells, Colorado. He and I came in 2nd that day. You have to learn how to pitch an open shoe.
I was married on Dec. 3, 1932 to Mareta Wright from Cheyenne Wells, Colorado. We had met at a dance at the country school house. My first real job was as a supervisor at a CCC Civilian
Conservation Corps.
The men in the CCC corps could get in for $.25 Some of the men did not have $.25 so I paid for
them all the time. They would always pay me back. They only made about $1.00 A WEEK. Not
very many of them could read or write so I would the read the comics to them on Sundays until
Donna was born and then I read them every day. In the evenings I would teach them arithmetic. I
had borrowed some books from the school.
In 1936-37 my daughter Donna was 2 or 3 years old. I had pitched horseshoes all day with the
farmers while Mareta had visited with the ladies. When I got home, Donna was missing and she
always rode her tricycle to the drug store on the corner and ride around inside the drug store and the owner would give her an ice cream cone. I knew where to start looking. I found Donna standing on the street corner trying to give my horseshoes away. That is the first and only time I swatted her. I found a board about 2″ wide at the entrance to the lumber yard. She had overheard me say that I had such bad luck that I wasnt going to pitch again. She thought she was helping me by giving my horseshoes away. This was in Cheyenne Wells, Colorado.
Donna, our daughter was born on September 26, 1934 in a sod house on Grandma Beeks farm
about 10 miles from Arapahoe. When Donna was about 1 we moved to Cheyenne Wells, Colorado where I would pitch with some of the farmers who came to town to trade their cream for food. I worked at Remington Arms in Denver for about 2 years. My foreman came in one day & said there was a man interviewing for men to go to Washington State. Mareta said, “Lets go”. I came to Richland in March of 1944 and lived in a dormitory until I got a house on Benham Street so Mareta, Donna & Daisy our dog could come.
I didnt pitch horseshoes in Washington until Lloyd Monasmith Lloyd was John Monasmith’s brother. John lived in Yakima and was World Champion in 1963 came looking for the man who played horseshoes — me. He wrote me a letter and wanted to come to Richland from Kennewick where he drove a switch engine in the hump yard. I confess that we pitched for several years and I never won a game. He qualified me about the mid 50s so I could play in the State tournaments. My first tournament was in Clarkston, WA about 1958. I was a top qualifier and never won a game. At that tournament someone from George, WA wanted to pitch a game with me and wanted me to go to the State Fair in Yakima. I think I got about 30 out of 50 points.
I built a brick home at 1933 Howell Ave. in Richland and put in my own horseshoe court in the back yard. Friends and neighbors used to come over and pitch with me. I was a steady player at the tournaments. I retired from work at Hanford in 1972. I only played in two World tournaments, one in Eureka, California, in 1973 and Jenola, Minnesota in 1981. Out of 4 classes, I pitched in 4th class. Elmer Hohl, Canada won the World Championship in 1973 and Walter Ray Williams in 1981.
I won a lot of trophies about 30 or 35 pitching in my class. I won most of them while pitching in Arizona. One day I was pitching with Skip Schilperoort, a long time friend from Sunnyside and our granddaughters, Kathy Rettke and Sabrina Schilperort were keeping score. They were about 6 or 7 years old and didnt want either granddad to lose so they kept the score even. They giggled all the time they were keeping score.
We moved to the Richland Mobile Home Park about 1972 and I put in a horseshoe court there
also. One day a BIG fellow knocked on my door and said he understood that I pitched horseshoes. I told him that I did and told him about the tournament that week end in Spokane. I told him to get in touch with Ruth Welsch in Spokane to sign up so that he could pitch. I qualified him to determine which class he would pitch in. We became very good friends — it was Vey Allen. Vey worked near my home, so he would come over almost every day and we would pitch horseshoes during his lunch hour. Harvey and Vey were instrumental in establishing to local Columbia Basin Horseshoe Club which was organized in 1986.
Mareta and I had a camper and would drive to the horseshoe tournaments. We were the only ones that had a camper so we could spend the night. Now just about everyone has a camper.
Mareta died in 1997 after 64 ½ years of marriage and I married Nancy Murray in Nov. 1997.
Mareta and I went to Arizona every year for about 7 years until Mareta had a stroke. I pitched
EVERY day down there. I helped the man in Arizona set up the tournaments. He was the State secretary. I won a few trophies down there. Almost every one down there pitched an open shoe. I pitch holding the open part facing to the left and it makes 1 ¼ turns to make the ringers. You have to learn to pitch an open shoe.
Harvey was a very dear man. May the family find comfort in knowing that he is at peace with his Lord and Savior.
Guestbook for
Harvey Quay Snyder