This business of public relations occasionally presents us the opportunity to make a connection with individuals who are one-of-a-kind. Susan Butcher was one of a kind... tough, talented, independent, focused and driven. These were just some of the adjectives that describe an athlete who made an indelible mark on the world of sports in a truly unique endeavor-Alaska's great race, the Iditarod. When I met Susan for lunch here in Seattle more than 20 years ago, she had tongue-tied Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show the night before on national television and made him laugh hysterically. We were introduced by a mutual friend and had come together to talk about Susan's future as a competitor in the grueling, 1,100-mile, cross-country sled-dog race from Anchorage, Alaska, to Nome. She told me many times that day she was going to win the race and that she needed to make a more effective connection with the "Lower 48," as we are known to many Alaskans, in order to accomplish all that she wanted. We forged a bond that day that led us down many trails over the past two decades. Susan won the race, just as she said she would, and in all won it four times convincingly. Many times, we took her coast-to-coast, where she fascinated major media, enamored sponsors from Purina to Allied Fibers and mesmerized numerous captains of industry with her inspiring presentations.We made a national public television documentary of her story that is still the definitive tale of that incredible race with Susan at the center of it. We went to Japan with a group of world-class adventurers, including the likes of Sir Edmund Hillary, who lined up with everyone else to hear Susan's tales of the Iditarod.She was married at her home north of Fairbanks on a beautiful sunny afternoon at this time of year in a special ceremony with her closest friends... her dogs... as ring bearers... and her native Alaskan soul mates, who brought blessed salmon that they had caught the day before on the other side of the state for the evening meal.As time progressed, she and her loving husband David decided to start a family. Even that didn't alter their routine or the racing. They just made some adjustments in roles and responsibilities and kept on mushing. However, there is no doubt that Susan's children changed her life... for the first time there were rivals for her affection besides her dogs, and those girls were the love of her life.She was a hero to her family as well as to everyone who met her, and when she began her battle against cancer a few years ago we all knew that the disease would never have a more worthy adversary.
I was privileged to be among the enthusiastic audience at McCaw Hall on Saturday evening, Aug. 19, attending the inaugural International Wagner Competition. Eight finalists, consisting of three tenors, three sopranos, a baritone and a bass, competed for two awards of $15,000.We met with critics and photographers from around the United States and Europe in the press room, visited with agents and friends from London, sympathized with their travel problems and delays at the airport, assuring them the program would be worth the trip. Eventually we found our seats and joined the international audience - longtime companions of the "Ring" and other Wagner enthusiasts. The curtain was up on the Act II set of "Der Rosenkavalier" (currently at the Opera House through Saturday, Aug. 26). Speight Jenkins appeared to announce the indisposition of soprano Carolyn Betty, to be replaced by alternate tenor Philip O'Brien. This made the competition four tenors, two sopranos, one baritone and one bass. There was rousing applause for conductor Asher Fisch and the members of the Seattle Symphony, who opened the program with the "Lohengrin" Act III Prelude.
I blandly opened the front door to go out the other day, and POW, lying right in front of me was a single, perfectly formed maple leaf - announcing the fall season. Its center was canary yellow while its outer edges were still a pure green. There was no browning on its edges; there was no curl in its contours. It just lay there, in all its sturdiness, as a strong beacon, as an item with heavy, provocative symbolism. Yes, it jarred me out of my blandness. Our warm summer idyll would soon be over.I pondered and looked around for other signs, but could find nothing as powerful as this single leaf. I brought it inside and thought to press it into a book in order to remember how it had so startled me. And then the next few days were spent, in idle moments, pondering how we go along, expecting that nothing will change, and then either world events, family news, or a fall into a pothole can change what we so blithely take for granted as we charge full steam ahead through our daily lives.
"Made for a special person by the Crafty Ladies of Queen Anne," say the tags on a vast array of items: knit and Polartec hats of many styles, crocheted blankets, cotton bonnets, quilts of all sizes, baby sweaters, prayer scarves and knit pocket-sized animals.Though the tags don't say so, each maker has a name: Mary Hulka and Edith Stanwood (knitters), Doris Moser (who sews) and Clara Jennings (a quilter), to name but a few of the dozen Crafty Ladies who meet every Thursday afternoon at the Queen Anne Community Center.One purpose of the group is to socialize. "We chat about a marvelous range of subjects," says their hostess, Pat Barger. But the main reason they gather is to knit, crochet, sew, embroider and quilt - all for several good causes.Aug. 17 was Giving Day, when the Crafty Ladies donated 406 items to three charities: the University of Washington's Beauty & Cancer Program, Children's Hospital & Regional Medical Center and the Family Services Baby Boutique.The Crafty Ladies began as an offshoot of S.P.I.C.E. (School Programs Involving Community Elders), a now-defunct, federally funded nutrition program for seniors. Seniors lunched in the McClure Middle School cafeteria and participated in intergenera-tional projects with McClure students, mostly art projects. There was also a two-way tutoring program in which the old helped the young with academics and the young taught the old how to use computers.The ladies also made lots of things for themselves - jackets out of sweatshirts and such. But they tired of doing just that. In 2002, a new focus presented itself.
"C'mon, Mom," I whined, "corduroys just don't look right. Neither Hoppy or Roy wears corduroys."Going on a shopping trip for new school clothes with your mother can be hell when you're only 6 and she gets the last say regarding any and all purchases. "Can't I please get some more jeans-Johnny always wears jeans.""You can't start the year wearing jeans, and Johnny does not always wear jeans. He goes to Catholic school and they have to wear uniforms; how'd you like to have to do that, young man?""Well, can't I have a pair for after school," I bargained. "You wouldn't want me to get my good school pants all dirty and ripped, would you?"We ended up leaving the store with both the corduroys and a new pair of jeans, but they weren't the thick Levis like I wanted, but an off-brand of thin denim.Still, when I pulled on my low-healed, round-toed cowboy boots and strapped on my cap gun, I at least looked more like a desperado than if I'd had on a pair of corduroy pants.
I don't spend much time endorsing politicians in this space. I criticize and mock them usually, which is what most of these alleged pub-lic servants, often in bed with large corporations and lining their own pockets, deserve.But every once in a while I see a candidate that is such bad news for the average middle-class American, I have to weigh in. This is a guilt response, pure and simple. While living in Hawaii in 2000, I wrote a column for the Garden Island, Kauai's daily newspaper, in which I stated that there was no real difference between Al Gore and George W. Bush. I said they were both prep school boys from wealthy political families. I said they were both centrist hacks and one was as good as another. I am still not sold on Al Gore, but Lawdy Lawdy, he couldn't have done more harm to my America than Georgie did, and continues to do.I have been writing weekly columns for an entire decade now, and I have never been so wrong, before or since.Because of my pathetic failure to recognize America's worst president since Warren G. Harding ahead of time, I now try to scream fire as soon as I see or even smell a hint of smoke.
Hizzoner stepped out of his chauffeured, black SUV and squinted into the sunshine of an August morning.No city pavement greeted Greg Nickels' feet. Just the earth. And no high-powered business types or foreign dignitaries grabbed his hand. Nickels' welcome came from members of the Suquamish tribe on the slope below Chief Seattle's grave.On Saturday the mayor and his wife Sharon made an early morning trek across the water for the 96th Chief Seattle Days, the Suquamish tribe's annual weekend celebration of dancing, canoe races, food and arts and crafts.Those proceedings take place in downtown Suquamish, the little town at the head of Agate Pass, "the place of clear water." From there you can look across the water and see the green shoulder of Magnolia and Discovery Park. The top of the Space Needle sticks out from behind Magnolia, as does the cubed, vertical shimmer of downtown's steel and glass towers.With your feet planted in Suquamish, burial place of the chief who gave the city its name, the view is stunningly surreal.Chief Seattle's burial site is a few hundred yards above town.At 9 a.m. tribal elders led the way through the cemetery gate up to the maple-shaded grave. The white, marble monument, surmounted by a cross, rises beneath two dugout canoes aimed toward sunrise. The tiny, white-painted, St. Peter's mission church stands down slope.A gathering song was performed. Maybe 150 people were there, many of them white, who formed a semi-circle around the grave. The song was as simple, hauntingly beautiful and visceral as "Amazing Grace."
A 24-year-old Queen Anne man was shot and critically wounded just outside of Dick's restaurant in Lower Queen Anne shortly after 1 a.m. last Saturday. Police spokesman Sean Whitcomb said Tuesday morning that the victim was still alive.The Aug. 19 shooting followed a fight that started inside the business between a large crowd of Asian men and women, the victim, some friends of his and his cousin, who was punched in the face when the fight spilled outside, the cousin told police.The cousin also told police he was trying to calm people down when the shooting occurred. A woman who wished to remain anonymous was in the parking lot during the incident and said the victim had also been beaten and was on the ground when shots were fired."My guess is it was seven shots," the woman said. "Three first and then another four shots after that." The crowd inside hit the floor when the gunfire erupted, and glass entry doors on the north and south sides were also hit, the woman said. The doors were still covered in plywood on Sunday evening.
The city held two meetings on one night last week over plans to demolish the Metropolitan Market, two homes and an apartment house to make room for a new QFC, small retail spaces, 55 apartments and 158 parking spaces.The project is subject to both the State Environmental Policy Act, which was the subject of the first meeting, and design review, which was the subject for the second, explained Lisa Rutzick from the Department of Planning and Development (DPD).But she cautioned that general opposition to the development wouldn't be a factor in the DPD's decision to grant a permit. "The city's authority (to block the project) is somewhat limited," she said. However, her admonition didn't stop some in the large crowd attending the meeting from objecting to the very idea of the proposed project. The project feels "preposterous," said Laurent Burman. "We don't want this, right?" he added. Jessica Vets, among others, zeroed in on the plan to demolish the El Frieda apartment house. "I would just hate to see it torn down for a project nobody in the community wants," she said. Ken Bowles also slammed that part of the project because it would take out what he described as affordable housing. Rents in the building range from $800 to $1,200 a month, which puts them roughly midrange for the neighborhood, according to Christina Cox, who owns the property with her two aunts.
A community activist has sparked a panic and prompted a flurry of e-mails and a letter to the city from the Magnolia Community Club over a potential land swap that could see the Port of Seattle put up an 85-foot-tall office building on Lower Smith Cove property, said community club president Vic Barry.The activist, he said, is Elizabeth Campbell, who says she heads up a new neighborhood group in Magnolia.Lower Smith Cove is now part of the city's parks system, and while the idea of swapping that property for Port property just to the east has been floating around for a decade, the idea is just that at the moment, said Donald Harris, manager of property and acquisition for Seattle Parks and Recreation."I'm not quite sure why it's become front-burner stuff," he said. The Parks Department has had no recent talks with the Port about the swap, Harris added. "We're not even in the same room with them yet."Port spokesman Mick Shultz agreed. "A concept is all it is at this point," he said. "It's on hold." The Port and the city need to do a lot more due diligence before plans for a swap could go forward, Shultz added. "If it looks like it's going forward, there would be ample time for public comment."
Queen Anne resident Mary Katica Aylward, 83, was killed Aug. 11 in a traffic accident at the intersection of Sixth Avenue West and West Blaine Street. The stepmother of actor John Aylward was eastbound on Blaine when her Subaru Forester was hit by a southbound Subaru Forester which witnesses say "may have been speeding," said police spokesman Jeff Kappel. The driver of the southbound Subaru, a 24-year-old man, was not injured, Kappel added. The impact forced the man's SUV to hit a street sign, and it came to rest against a BMW, Kappel said. The accident is still under investigation, he said.Nearby residents say it's not the first time someone has died in a car wreck at that intersection, and they are urging the Seattle Department of Transportation to install four-way stop signs so that it doesn't happen again.Michael Venables is one of them. He knew Aylward, who was also a friend of his mother, Venables said.
Henry Darger was the sort of man you would have avoided had you seen him on the street. Seedy looking, badly shaven, wearing broken glasses held together by surgical tape, he would probably have been mumbling as he shambled down the sidewalk or rummaged through the garbage cans lining the alley. He worked as a hospital janitor and dishwasher and seems to have been virtually friendless. But in the privacy of his one-room apartment he created a fantastical world that only he was privy to. Found by accident after his death in 1973, his paintings, collages and writings are now part of the collection of the American Folk Art Museum in New York, which curated the current show at the Frye. Darger's life history is so poignant and his psychological makeup is so troubling, it's impossible to understand the art without a discussion of the man who made it. He was born near the close of the 19th century and lost his mother to childbirth when he was nearly 4. The baby sister was given up for adoption shortly after her delivery. Henry, a troubled child, was later placed in an institution for the insane, though there is no proof that he belonged there.Conditions in the asylum were even worse than one can imagine, according to John MacGregor, an art historian and psychotherapist who has written one of the most extensively researched books on Darger. During Darger's incarceration there, one child was eaten by rats, someone died after attempting to castrate himself, and one of the teachers used the corpses of recently dead inmates to teach anatomy lessons.
The Greenwood bowling alley, which opened in 1961, closed in March to make way for an apartment/retail complex. Sunset Bowl, which pre-dated Leilani Lanes by just four years, acquired some of Leilani's auctioned equipment.
"Reality leaves a lot to the imagination." - John LennonIn the beginning, Capitol Records created The Beatles.The music was without substance and business was on the peak (and trough) of the radio wave. And the spirit of creativity was hovering over the chorus of "Love Me Do."Then John said, "Let there be art," and there was art.And John saw the art, that it was good; and John united the art with the commerce...At least that's one way of looking at it.Like all myths, the saga of The Beatles is backed up by a massive chorus of interpretation. There's no way around it. From accessible bubble gum pop to avant-garde experimentation, from rampant hedonism and unimaginable wealth to transcendental spirituality and self-righteous political critique, every facet of The Beatles' mystique is built on contradiction after dizzying contradiction.
Ever since the 2001 Nisqually earthquake cracked and weakened the Alaskan Way Viaduct, we, as a city, have faced a serious problem which will take serious money to solve: serious as in billions of dollars. Mayor Greg Nickels knew what he wanted right away - tear down the viaduct, replace it with a tunnel, repair the seawall, open up waterfront property to new development, and fold in improvements for Mercer and Aurora north of the Battery Street Tunnel to enhance South Lake Union. Eventually given a $5 billion price tag, the tunnel was shortened and plans for South Lake Union put on hold, bringing the cost down to a mere $3.6 billion. That is, if you don't think cost overruns will happen here, as they did in Boston's "Big Dig" which mushroomed from $5 to $14 billion.Meanwhile, citizens groups have come up with alternatives: the rebuild, the retrofit and the surface-only plan.