I’ve lived in the Lewiston-Clarkston Valley for most of my life, with only brief stints elsewhere.
I was born on an Air Force base in Layton, Utah — a town named after Christopher Layton, a soldier in the Mexican War.
That’s pretty much all I know about my birthplace — thanks to a quick Google search.
Later, I spent a short time in Sandpoint for a job opportunity before homesickness shipped me back south on U.S. Highway 95.
After a quarter century in Lewiston, I’ve grown familiar with the traditions, sights and quirks that make the LCV so unique — no Google needed.
Some places are more than landmarks; they’re woven into my personal history. Two places that stand out are Bengal Field and The Bait Shop Grill.
A historic field and a hole-in-the-wall favorite
Bengal Field is etched into the legacy of Lewiston High School, serving as the Bengals’ home turf for more than 100 years.
I spent ample time at the historic landmark as both an athlete and a sports reporter.
The Bengals bid farewell to Bengal Field last month, moving to the newly built P1FCU Sports Complex.
Meanwhile, The Bait Shop, a beloved breakfast joint decked out in fishing garb, served up the best hotcakes in town before closing its doors for good last month. Sitting at the corner of Fifth Street and Preston Avenue, it was the kind of place that locals cherished and outsiders stumbled upon by luck.
For me, both places hold special memories — and as fate would have it, both became the backdrop to the beginning of my seizure saga.
First seizure ever: A breakfast run gone awry
They say you never forget your first: a Little League home run, a first kiss, or, in my case, a grand mal seizure.
It was a midsummer morning in 2018, and life as an 18-year-old was steady. I had just moved out of my parents’ house, working as a part-time sports writer at the Lewiston Tribune and production assistant at KLEW. Things were routine — even mundane — until one early morning when a craving for breakfast led me to The Bait Shop.
I called in my order and took my usual shortcut through the K-Mart parking lot to avoid traffic. As I approached a stoplight, things went dark.
When I came to, a man and a woman stood outside my car asking me questions: “Do you know where you are?” “Do you know what happened?” I didn’t. Moments later, paramedics arrived and informed me I’d had a seizure — my first ever.
In the blink of an eye, my life shifted. Newly independent and ready to take on the world, I now faced a medical condition that would shadow me for years.
Oh, and the worst part? I never got my biscuits and gravy.
A rivalry and a reminder
My seizures weren’t confined to breakfast runs — they found me even in the heart of one of the valley’s most cherished traditions.
The annual cross-town squabble between the Lewiston and Clarkston football teams has been played 134 times, leaving countless memories for the athletes who have competed in it.
After my playing days, I was fortunate to stay involved in the rivalry as a sportswriter for the Lewiston Tribune.
In 2019, I was assigned to cover the game, but as I passed Bengal Field and turned down an alley to park, it happened again.
I blacked out. When I came to, I was staring at the aftermath of a collision I couldn’t recall, my car pressed against another. Outside, familiar faces — LHS Principal Kevin Driskill, former athletic director Corey Williams and school resource officer Robert Massey — were asking me questions I couldn’t answer. Their concern was a comfort amid the confusion.
An ambulance was called, and I got the help I needed. The kindness of those three men stayed with me, even after I returned to the press box for the 2021 rivalry game.
I’ve seen doctors, taken medications, changed aspects of my lifestyle, given up driving for long stretches not to put other drivers at risk and occasionally thought seizures were behind me. But it’s just something I’ll always have to deal with.
Lessons learned
Both The Bait Shop and Bengal Field are in a new era — one shuttered, the other retired. But their significance remains, not just for the memories of a breakfast run or a rivalry game, but for what they taught me about resilience, community and facing the unexpected.
I wish this marked the end of my seizure saga, or at least my misadventures as a sportswriter — but those are stories for another time.
Pixley is the Tribune’s online editor. He can be contacted at tpixley@lmtribune.com and followed on Twitter @TreebTalks.
