Do you know how the song, "Make Someone Happy" goes?

How about "Abba Dabba Honeymoon?"

Can you play the "bones" or do you even know someone who can?

If your answer to this is yes, then you may have heard of Adamick's Famous Museum. If the answer is, "huh?"- then you have missed out on a facet of Federal Way history that was uniquely ours.

Federal Way is a relatively young city, nowadays.

According to a US census bureau site, only about 7.6 percent of our citizens are old enough to have possibly spent any time here when this town wasn't much more than a school, a highway and whole lot of alder and fir trees.

For the rest of us young-ins, it is important to know the story of The Adamicks.

Back in the days between when the mortar was barely dry on the bricks of Federal Way High School there was a the single-level clapboard roadhouse, hand-built by a man named Adam Adamick.

Located just south of the corner of 348th and east of Federal Highway #99, Adamick and his wife Annis used the building as a combination museum and tavern.

According to a story written for this newspaper in the late 70's by staff reporter Melody Steiger, the funky road-side attraction first opened by the Adamicks in 1937 was dark inside, with only a few small windows and a lower floor area lit with just a pair of bare bulbs hung in the center of the room.

A pot-bellied stove on a ledge in the corner kept the chill at bay and the interior walls were decorated with unusual items the couple had acquired over the years.

On one wall hung the brake from a streetcar that "when it failed to hold, sent five people to their deaths off the 11th street bridge."

Patrons could also find a 7x7 point elk's head strung with christmas lights, a starfish shaped like an elephant, stuffed birds, dried sealife and strange rocks.

All of the curiosities were displayed with small explanatory cards, and if you were fortunate (and of drinking age) you could be served a couple of beers.

A flyer printed by Mr. Adamick lists the official name of the place as Adamick's Famous Museum, but it was also known as Adamick's Vagabond Villa.

Less a tavern than a museum with a floor show, Adamicks was, according to long-time Federal Way residents, the culmination of the desires of Adam Adamick and his wife Annis to have a place to showcase their love of entertaining.

The museum and wall-hung oddities were entertaining enough, but the real show was the Adamicks themselves.

Adam Adamick was a street-fighting polish immigrant who had owned restaurants in Chicago during the reign of Al Capone.

Multi-lingual and with a memory for faces, in the late thirties he came west bringing with him many of the items that would line the walls of his place.

Mrs. Adamick, the daughter of the wealthy Jewett automotive family, was tall and elegant, wearing a high red wig and a pair of nose specs sans ear supports known as "pince nez."

A typical evening at the Famous Museum might begin with a few folks chatting and drinking from quart bottles of beer supplied by the colorful Mrs. Adamick.

But service would stop abruptly when she or Mr. Adamick felt the urge and the show would begin.

Adam would come out dressed in a cowhide vest and produce a set of ivory-colored clackers.

For the young and uninitiated, these are called "bones," and when the music came up, Adamick would begin to play by rapping them rythmically on his hands and wrists in time to the song.

Every tune allowed for a small break when the performance featured a "hot lick" and Mr. Adamick would go to town on the bones, ending with a flourish and a big grin.

On any given evening, Annis Adamick might make her entrance, then stand and deliver with operatic voice a chestnut from the past like "I've Got A Lovely Bunch Of Coconuts," or poetry recited from memory.

Annis also played the accordian and was fond of directing the crowd in sing-alongs, chastising anyone who was a bit out of key.

When the Adamicks decided to close the doors in 1960 after 23 years, they sold the property to Doug Clerget.

A few years later, after the Adamicks moved out, Clerget gave away many of the museum contents, and what he couldn't give away, he bulldozed into a large hole near the property and eventually paved over it. Among the items dozed into the hole was an original western painting by famous artist Charles Russell, which Clerget didn't realize the importance of until later, "I guess that's something I shouldn't have done," he said.

Adam Adamick died in 1971 at the age of 83 in Illinois and was brought back to be buried beside his beloved Annis, who passed in 1965.

Her funeral was held in the museum, with a draped bar area, records of her favorite songs were played as an Episcopal priest presided.

At Mountain View Cemetery on the eastern edge of town, the couple's headstones occupy a sunny section of the grounds.