Euphoric recall is a funny thing when it comes to America's holidays, especially with Thanksgiving. Recreating the mythical imagery of the celebration - indigenous people eating turkey with grateful immigrants from Europe - hides its gritty reality.According to Plimoth Plantation (a living museum and Smithsonian Institute affiliate near Plymouth, Ma.) scholars analyzing the journal entries of the Plymouth Colony members found they were starving in July 1623. A severe drought had struck their corn and bean crops, and supply ships from England were stuck in an unnerving three-month delay. Facing a cold, hungry death, colony leaders called for a long day of prayer, and the following morning a mellow rain began falling. It lasted for 14 days, reviving the separatists' withered crops and their hopes for winter survival. Feeling their prayers were answered, a public day of thanks was organized, but there was no feast, excepting a good lobster tail or two and some fresh water. What I like about this historical account is the moral that has survived the fantastical feast fabrications we have built around the facts: physically expressing an attitude of gratitude when receiving an unexpected break, especially a life-saving one, makes surviving this too-often rough life a whole lot nicer.
The November vote on the proposed monorail doomed the controversial system, but it saved the World's Fair-era one, which would have been replaced. However, the uncertainty over the future in 2003 cost the existing system a $1.4-million Federal Transit Administration grant, said Seattle Center spokesman Perry Cooper. "We received the grant, but we didn't end up using it because of the new monorail," he said. "We're working on getting that back." The grants have been issued every two years since 1995, when the amount was only $280,000, Cooper said. The money applies only to transportation systems expected to last for at least a decade, and the cash can be used only for capital expenditures, said Tom Albro, director of Seattle Monorail Services, the private agency that runs the system. It can't be used for regular operations and maintenance, he said.The federal cash would have come in handy.
"There are lots of bumps in life," says Robert Schaper. "I believe we're put on this earth to help each other over them."For him, the first bump came early. His mother Stella was a "sophisticated prostitute," a fact he discerned when he was very young. Her johns didn't pay her in cash, but generously returned her favors in other financial ways. Schaper was born on Sept. 29, 1939, in Hettinger, N.D., a town of about 3,000 people. The last time he visited, there were still no fast-food restaurants, and a car dealership stood where his family's house once was.Schaper has one older sister, whom he hasn't seen in years. His father Albert worked as a section foreman for Union Pacific Railroad, his employer of 40 years, laying railroad ties. He was transferred to Seattle when Bob was 4 years old, and Bob has lived here ever since. He grew up in West Seattle and now lives on lower Queen Anne.
The First Free Methodist Church near the affiliated Seattle Pacific University turned 125 this year, and the milestone anniversary was celebrated in a special worship service last Sunday, Nov. 20. The church is the eighth-oldest one in Seattle, and Queen Anne is its third home, said Associate Pastor Bonnie Brann. "The first church was downtown."According to church historian Norma Cathey, the church got its start in 1880 on Second Avenue between University Street and Seneca Avenue. That happened because of the efforts of Free Methodist Hiram Pease, who settled in Seattle in 1873.
The First Free Methodist Church near the affiliated Seattle Pacific University turned 125 this year, and the milestone anniversary was celebrated in a special worship service last Sunday, Nov. 20. The church is the eighth-oldest one in Seattle, and Queen Anne is its third home, said Associate Pastor Bonnie Brann. "The first church was downtown."According to church historian Norma Cathey, the church got its start in 1880 on Second Avenue between University Street and Seneca Avenue. That happened because of the efforts of Free Methodist Hiram Pease, who settled in Seattle in 1873.
Jeannie O'Meara-Polich was a little giddy and a lot relieved last weekend after The Magnolia Theater, which she co-founded, successfully staged a production of the musical "Aladdin Jr." So, she added, were the 10 cast members in the show, which is comprised students from third, fourth and fifth grade."They just had a blast," O'Meara-Polich said.A second production of the same show in December will feature 10 new cast members from the sixth, seventh and eighth grades, she said. One of these actors joined the younger cast in the role of a flying carpet. "She's Jasmin in the other cast," O'Meara-Polich said. The narrator from the younger cast will repay the favor for the older cast.Forming her own theater troupe was a long time coming for O'Meara-Polich, who said she's has been involved in drama since she was 5 year old. "I was directing plays as a little girl."
The November vote on the proposed monorail doomed the controversial system, but it saved the World's Fair-era one, which would have been replaced. However, back in 2003 the uncertainty over the future cost the existing system a $1.4-million Federal Transit Admin-istration grant, said Seattle Center spokesman Perry Cooper. "We received the grant, but we didn't end up using it because of the new monorail," he said. "We're working on getting that back." The grants have been issued every two years since 1995, when the amount was only $280,000, Cooper said. The money applies only to transportation systems expected to last for at least a decade, and the cash can be used only for capital expenditures, said Tom Albro, director of Seattle Monorail Services, the private agency that runs the system. It can't be used for regular operations and maintenance, he said.The federal cash would have come in handy.
The fog is persistently in and thick. Around here, that means it is the long Thanksgiving weekend! And we will all be looking for our friends and relatives somewhere out there in the mist and revised arrival times. To add to the chaos, there is a very cold storm heading our way, due to arrive during the week after the long holiday weekend. This will be the first real challenge in many years for the gardeners who fell in love with exotic and tender tropical plants. The forecasters are predicting 20-degree weather, so those plants will need much wrapping and bundling to survive outdoors.
Thanksgiving came a few days early on the banks of Lake Union at Agua Verde Café and Paddle Club. On Nov. 20, while much of the city navigated through thick fog and frosty temperatures, 90-some Seattleites gathered for a Thanksgiving feast in support of family, friends and an international good cause.The dinner celebration, which takes place the Sunday before Thanks-giving, began as a small gathering of friends and, five years later, has evolved into a notable fundraiser and a brilliant good time.
Jeez, Seattle, what's next? Public caning for jaywalking? Jail terms for spitting on the sidewalk? I'm referring to the smoking ban we just passed in the Nov. 8 election. I think it goes a tad overboard, and I assume we're going to see a few court challenges before the smoke has cleared.Look, I'm a non-smoker. OK, not entirely - I enjoy the occasional cigar after a special dinner. But I quit smoking cigarettes in 1981, and I'm very glad I did. I have no problem with the American Cancer Society's desire to have everyone quit smoking. But to run people outside into the rain and cold - and even more, to tell them to go 25 feet from the door or a vent - is almost a Gestapo-like approach. Move 25 feet from a door, and you're probably standing by the next door, or near someone else's vent. It gets a little silly.
Why, when I inhale certain fragrances, am I pow! all at once transported back in time? Scientifically, I really can't say. Data rarely moves my thinking. All I'm sure of is this: everything that defines "Thanksgiving" for me will stem from a scent. In particular, a food scent. Each wedging a precise memory from the inner layers that shape my life. Which isn't to say all remembering is light-hearted. Sometimes the only thing that stands between a mind and a scent is pain. If so, inhaling will hurt far more than hearing or seeing. And the ache doesn't alter with the passing years. Something so essential never changes one bit.All of which leads me back to when I was 5, when my family moved from the crowded streets of Lower Manhattan to the spacious suburban dream: a split-level house at the end of a New England cul-de-sac where lawns were suddenly as level as the sidewalks left behind.
You know, I realized once again, after my recent visit to Cincinnati, that nobody loves ya like family. But the reverse is also true: Except for psychotics and romantic exes, nobody is as tough on ya as family.Well, in a national sense, America is my extended family and all of you who share this ground, at this time, are my distant relatives, like it or not.A friend who has followed what I often laughingly call my writing career asked me a slightly pointed question the other day that started me thinking.Her question was, "Why have you, the most apolitical person I've ever known, become such a Bush basher?"I immediately - just like with family - got defensive.
SCOTT MERCADO"Well, I am a vegetarian, so that will help. However, that doesn't mean that I won't stuff myself with Tofurky. Okay, how about this: vegetables and starch first, sweets second and ... note to self: the Atkins diet does not work on Thanksgiving."JOHN BERIAULT"Willpower. I am just going to hold back the best that I can. Also, keep talking - keep yourself distracted with conversation."
Angela Sterling's photographs of last year's "Nutcracker" at Pacific Northwest Ballet illustrate a sumptuous new picture book issued for this Christmas by local publisher Sasquatch Books. Sterling trained as a ballet dancer and reached the rank of soloist at PNB by the time of her retirement in 1997. Since then, she's become a respected ballet photographer, with her work appearing in national dance magazines as well as newspapers.The new book from Sasquatch features full-page, full-color photos of last year's dress rehearsal of "Nutcracker," as well as a simple text that tells the story of Tchaikovsky's ballet as conceived by choreographer Kent Stowell and illustrator Maurice Sendak, who designed the sets and costumes.
Kevin Cruff makes his living as a commercial photographer; his life is something else again.The life part, rather than the photographs with which he makes a living, is indexed by a Cruff show just wrapping up at wall space (sic), a fine-art photography gallery in Pioneer Square (specifically, the Pioneer Building, 600 First Ave., Suite 322). Its title is "3 mile range," and the concept is that all the photographs were made within 3 miles of Cruff's home base, Magnolia.