For the first community presentation to take place at its new auditorium, Roosevelt High School will host the world premiere of "Darfur Stories," a staged reading of first-person accounts that dramatize both crisis and commitment in the African region of Darfur. The presentation will take place Thursday, Jan. 25."It seemed really important to find a way to get this information about Darfur that would be different," said project director Barbara Mackoff, of Save Darfur Washington State.
At least five times a day, I hear someone - either in frustration or condescension - say, "Well, I guess you just can't teach an old dog new tricks." It's been said and said again so often it is now accepted as an absolute, undeniable fact. I do believe that even many of us old dogs are convinced it's true.It's time we call "enough" to this disparagement. We must rise up and challenge those who would spread such rumors. We must start a campaign, possibly including a march on the Federal Building with banners and chanting our theme, "Old maybe, but we have the know-how." We might even invite The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals to join our movement as certainly the statement is defaming old dogs as well as old people.
We love our trees in Seattle, but some trees are more equal than others.When the Dec. 14 storm smacked the city with 60-mph winds, Nolan Rundquist's thoughts drifted toward a couple of his favorite copper beeches. Thc city arborist said both trees, one on First Hill near St. James Cathedral and the other on Queen Anne, came through.Some choice North Seattle trees didn't fare so well, especially on the University of Washington campus. The U.W. Medicinal Herb Garden lost a Siberian elm and cherry plum, and a Japanese cedar south of the Allen Library was killed, along with a Corsican black pine northeast of Clark Hall. Other campus trees killed: a knobcone pine behind Bloedel Hall and a Mexican white pine south of McCarty Hall.Green Lake lost a sugar maple, and 35th Avenue Northeast lost several flame ashes that went down like dominos due to a wind-tunnel effect.In several parts of the city that same effect knocked over trees in the same fashion. On Beacon Avenue South on Beacon Hill, seven trees - maple, cedar, linden - were blown over. Seward Park also suffered, where a dozen old-growth trees, many of them Douglas firs, fell along with non-native specimens. The park's "Heritage Tree," maybe 500 years old, is still standing.
It was all supposed to be hush-hush, but a reservist major who lives near it has discovered that the historic military chapel in Discovery Park is going to be used as a temporary hutch for rabbits captured in Woodland Park.Major Brian Harris said he first noticed lights in the long-closed chapel a week or so ago, and he asked people who came to the church the next day what was happening. The people weren't eager to talk, according to the major."I thought it was kind of strange because they wouldn't tell me what was going on," Harris said, adding that he saw numerous cages and bales of hay in the building.The people - all volunteers, according to Seattle Parks and Recreation - finally came clean and told him the rabbits picked up in Woodland Park would be sterilized and recuperate in the chapel before they were shipped off to a rabbit sanctuary, he said.But Harris also said he was urged not to talk about the halfway-house hutch "because people might think it was inappropriate."Harris is one of those people. "Being in the military and a bit of a military history buff," he wrote in an e-mail, "it appears to me that Parks and Rec is a little out of bounds and not taking into account all of the human history that has transpired in that chapel."
One thing is certain. You should feel incredibly normal after spending two hours with Edward Albee's dysfunctional menagerie in his rarely produced 1980 play, "The Lady From Dubuque." If you have a dark side, you can revel in Albee's trademark vitriolic dialogue. If you are the cheerful sort, you can relish the play's humorous moments and give thanks for your optimistic friends. You won't find much joy or poignancy in Albee territory. But you will find mystery, misery, venom and intelligent dialogue, often laced with brilliant wit and comedic absurdity. David Esbjornson directs the play with a savvy understanding that tragedy can beget humor - and vice versa. He also steered the 2002 Tony-winning Broadway production of Albee's "The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?"Although "The Lady From Dubuque" doesn't deliver the theatrical clout of Albee's piercing 1961 Tony-winning play and 1966 film "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf," the drama does provoke the mind. Basically, it unfolds like a verbal jousting, triggering metaphorical questions that, for the most part, are never answered. And if you're familiar with Albee's work, you will also see a resemblance to "A Delicate Balance."
No sarcasm is implied when I say the greatest praise one can give Seattle Children's Theatre's wildly imaginative production of "Goodnight Moon" is that this famous bedtime story doesn't put anyone to sleep.The 60-year-old, soothing, booklength prose-poem written by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated with an arresting, avant-garde edge by Clement Hurd is a classic of soporific literature (in the best sense) for children.As stories go, "Goodnight Moon" isn't a journey but a destination, not so much action as arrival. The entire tale is the final moments of a little one's day, when it's time for young Bunny to quickly take stock of, and say goodnight to, the fixed points in his world. There's the big green room in which he's watched over by the Old Lady, where mittens and socks hang to dry, a telephone sits idly, a pair of kittens and a mouse play, a toyhouse and red balloon await tomorrow's adventures, and the moon is reliably visible through the window."Goodnight stars/Goodnight air/Goodnight noises everywhere," goes the final pages of Bunny's reassuring ritual that everything will be exactly the same in the morning, that it's safe to go to sleep. But much of the appeal of "Goodnight Moon" is also in the way it reflects the mystique that objects and places have for young children. SCT's world-première stage adaptation gets both of the story's values right: the enigma as well as the certainty.
Young Jim Mar's father made him attend Chinese classes every day after school and Saturday mornings. "Like many children of immigrants," Mar says, "I resented it."The best part about Chinese school was recess, he says, when he dashed around the corner to a Jewish deli and bought a headcheese sandwich for 10 cents.For all the time he spent there, Chinese school didn't take. "I regret that now," he says. "If I'd learned Chinese, I would have gone to China more."Jim was born in 1920 in Oakland, Calif., the eldest of five children. His mother, Mabel Chinn, was also born in California. His father, Mar Woh, was born near Canton, China.When Jim was 2 years old, the family moved to Seattle, where Mar Woh eventually owned a supermarket (not specifically Chinese) at 14th & Yesler as well as two Chinese restaurants.Jim's mother died a few months after giving birth to her third child, of protracted complications from that birth. Jim was only 6 years old. Eventually his father re-married and had two more children with his second wife.Jim attended Garfield High School. He had white friends there, but he never socialized with them outside of school. Some of his relatives called white people "white devils," so he kept his open-mindedness to himself."My life centered around the Chinese Baptist Church," he says. The church was a Baptist mission, one of many ethnically distinct churches supported by the Baptists. The Sunday school teachers were white, and their volunteer assistants were Chinese.When he was 16, Jim met the daughter of a Sunday school assistant. Also 16, the girl's name was Edith Lew.That summer, Jim worked in a cannery in Port Althorp, Alaska. He tended a machine that shaped flat pieces of tin into cans, at a rate of 116 per minute. He became so adept at his job that he could tend the machine and read a book at the same time. Jim checked out books-usually detective novels by Agatha Christie or Erle Stanley Garner-from the cannery library.Most workers at the cannery were Chinese or Filipino. They lived in bunkhouses and ate at large round tables with heavy chains suspended above them. "The cooks brought out big bowls of rice and hung them from the chains," says Jim. The workers ate rice and salmon three times a day. Jim hasn't liked salmon since.He graduated from Garfield in 1937. "My father thought there was no future for Chinese-Americans," says Jim, "and sailed us all back to China." While they were at sea, in July of that year, war between China and Japan broke out. Shortly after their arrival in Canton, the Japanese bombed the city. The Mars turned around and sailed back to Seattle, arriving a day before classes started at the University of Washington. Jim enrolled immediately after disembarking. He rode a streetcar up 23rd Avenue to school."My father wanted me to be a doctor, but I couldn't stand the sight of blood," Jim says. He studied engineering instead, and found he liked it-so much so that he secretly applied to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).
"Waste not, want not."This old saw could be the motto of Goods for the Planet, a new store in South Lake Union. Recently opened on Jan. 20, Goods for the Planet specializes in earth-friendly products for the home and garden-products that will enhance customers' lifestyles while benefiting the environment.The store promotes sustainability by selling wares that help reduce consumption or energy use, are made of renewable or recycled materials, are manufactured in a way that reduces harm to the environment and can themselves be recycled.Suppliers will be local whenever possible.Owners Chris Raver and Suzanne O'Shea call the store "the kind of place where we always wanted to shop." "Shoppers don't have to dig through shelves looking for the least harmful version of a product," O'Shea said, "because everything in our store is chosen with an eye toward its effect on the environment.""We've done tons of research on products to determine whether or not something is sustainable," added Raver. Part of their mission is educational: to introduce people to a "greener" way of life.
It has now been conclusively proven - money does grow on trees. A million dollars will be spent for an election on March 13 of this year. Seattle residents will be able to vote for or against a rebuilt elevated viaduct and they will be able to vote for or against a smaller tunnel design that has not been studied at length or priced. Yes, you can vote for or against both plans. Whether the popular vote is binding has yet to be determined. And here we have been thinking, all along, that it was just our families that were dysfunctional.Let's move swiftly to some exciting local and regional news.The U.S. Department of Interior recently awarded the most grants to Washington state for coastal conservation. Six federal grants, worth $3.7 million, were designated for projects that will acquire, restore, or enhance coastal wetlands for long-term conservation benefits to wildlife and habitat. The grants were awarded for: Tarboo Valley Wetlands acquisition (124 acres), Nooksack River's Smugglers Slough Estuary (246 acres), Hood Canal Basin's Nalleys Ranch Estuary restoration (108 acres), Lummi Island Coastal Conservation (355 acres), Skagit River's Wiley-Slough Estuary restoration (175 acres) and Hood Canal's Quilcene Estuarine Wetlands Restoration (50 acres).
An old friend, someone whom I'd spent a lot of time sitting next to while drinking coffee, has passed on. Wayne Gray succumbed to a massive heart attack last week.He was almost a fixture of Magnolia, sitting most mornings outside of the Upper Crust Bakery with his cup of hot tea.Wayne always wore his dark blue U.S. Coast Guard ball cap, and during the winter he pulled on a heavy green-plaid Woolrich jacket with a scarf around his neck to help shut out some of the cold. If you knew him well, he'd admit to long underwear under his trousers, too.It took more than a little cold weather to drive him indoors. He'd sit outside mornings, even when the weather forecasters were predicting snow, holding his mug of starter-fluid in gloved hands. It would have to be awfully windy, or there would actually have to be stuff falling out of the sky, before Wayne would move inside. He just liked to be outside, feeling the fresh air on his face and watching the traffic fill McGraw as Magnolia came alive each morning. After he'd finished a couple of mugs, he'd get in one of his cars and drive home to his wife Priscilla. He had two cars: a big, white, recent-model Lincoln and an old green Ford convertible with aging paint and a torn back window.Wayne wasn't a real talkative sort, but after you'd spent some time with him over numerous cups of coffee (or in Wayne's case tea), you'd hear more and more stories about Magnolia's history. He certainly wasn't the oldest resident of the neighborhoods, but he'd been around long enough to remember when the current Magnolia playfields contained the West Point Dairy Farm. There were other Magnolia farms Wayne remembered, too.Wayne Gray was born in 1922 on the houseboat "Lady of the Lake" on Lake Washington, nine blocks north of where the I-90 floating bridge is now. His father, Cecil, and his grandfather, Albert, started the Gray Lumber and Shingle Company in 1919, a wholesale lumber business that remained in operation until 1960.Early during the 1920s, the Gray family moved from the houseboat to Lawton Wood. Out beyond the Chittenden Locks and Discovery Park-out on the very end of the peninsula that is Magnolia-is one of Magnolia's more exclusive and obscure neighborhoods: Lawton Wood.
At the northern fringe of Queen Anne Hill, a full-court pass from the wintry dark of the ship canal, sits Seattle Pacific University's Royal Brougham Pavilion. Royal Brougham, home to SPU's men's and women's basketball teams, is our neighborhood's palais de sport, where the maroon-white-and-gold Falcons rarely lose a home game.For those like me who find quality basketball a warming balm in the chill of this sunlight-scarce season, you can't do better than SPU basketball. Why? Two reasons: The level of effort, and the quality team play. And the ease of it all-lots of good seats at very affordable prices, and ample free parking close by.The SPU men's team, which went to the NCAA Division 2 Final Four last year, is in contention for a playoff berth again this year. And the Lady Falcons are 3-0 in league play (8-4 overall) and have won 62 of their past 64 league home games in the friendly confines of Royal Brougham. They look to keep it rolling in their upcoming home games against Dixie State at 3 p.m. on Jan. 27, as well as Northwest Nazarene at 5:30 p.m. on Feb. 1, and Seattle University at 1:30 p.m. on Feb. 3.Second-year women's coach Julie van Beek, a tall, big-hearted woman who's been a winner both as a player and a coach, is guiding her charges through an injury-plagued season. Van Beek herself is on crutches (or gliding, with her injured lag up on a walker), recovering from an Achilles' tendon tear in November. She's not alone.
The Magnolia branch of the Seattle Public Library moved into the construction phase this week with the library's call for a general contractor to renovate and expand the branch.Contractors are invited to submit bids by 2 p.m. Thursday, Feb. 15.A pre-bid walk-through will be held at 2 p.m. Tuesday, Jan. 30, at the Magnolia branch, 2801 34th Ave. W. The architect will be present to review the project requirements. The estimated value of construction work for the project is $1.78 million. The overall project budget for all costs is $2.8 million, which includes $1.62 million through the Opportunity Fund, a special fund created as part of the Libraries for All bond measure to be used for new or unanticipated neighborhood library capital needs.The 6,356-square-foot Magnolia branch will be renovated and expanded by about 1,440 square feet to include a new meeting room. Snyder Hartung Kane Strauss Architects designed the renovations so patrons and staff could more efficiently use the interior space.
When the Curves franchise at Queen Anne Avenue and Boston Street closed recently, it was a blow to the approximately 300 members of the women-only fitness center.But five of the patrons decided to do something about the loss. They formed Girls Can Do, LLC, bought the franchise and are set to open a new location in an office complex at 101 Nickerson St., said Claudia Mitchell, one of the new owners.The former owners of the Queen Anne Curves were all naturopaths, but they decided to get out of the business, said Jennie Donahe, also one of the new owners. The lease was up, though that was only one of the reasons the previous owners decided to close the business, she said. "The rent was incredibly high," Donahe said of the old location.On top of everything else, the owner of the property found a new tenant, said Kammie McArthur, another of the new owners. "So we didn't have the option to stay," she said of a development that forced the women to find a new location before they could buy the franchise.The partners found the location on Nickerson Street, clearing the way for the buy-out.
It was all supposed to be hush-hush, but a reservist major who lives nearby has discovered that the historic military chapel in Discovery Park is going to be used as a temporary hutch for rabbits captured in Woodland Park.Major Brian Harris said he first noticed lights in the long-closed chapel a week or so ago, and he asked some people who came to the church the next day what was happening. The people weren't eager to talk, according to the major."I thought it was kind of strange because they wouldn't tell me what was going on," said Harris, who added that he saw numerous cages and bales of hay in the building.The people -all volunteers, according to Seattle Parks and Recreation-finally came clean and told him the rabbits picked up in Woodland Park would be sterilized and recuperate in the chapel before they were shipped off to a rabbit sanctuary, he said.But Harris also said he was urged not to talk about the halfway-house hutch "because people might think it was inappropriate."Harris, in fact, is one of those people who finds the use inappropriate. "Being in the military and a bit of a military history buff," he wrote last week in an e-mail to the Magnolia News, "it appears to me that Parks and Rec is a little out of bounds and not taking into account all of the human history that has transpired in that chapel."It's not that Harris has anything against the furry critters. "We actually have a couple of bunny rabbits ourselves," he said of his family, which lives in one of the houses on Officers Row.But having a couple of pet rabbits is one thing; using the chapel as a hutch is another, according to Harris.
I have friends in this business who claim they couldn't write a new column every week.How long have you been doing this? they ask, and seem shocked when I tell them I've had at least one column published somewhere every week since December 1996.I know some of you are thinking, "That's way too much Wilken," and there are those dark days when I might agree with you. Those are the days when new ideas are swamped by persistent obsessions like aging, my ex-wife, single-parenting, the Topsy-like greed at the top of the American economic pole, Iraq, George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, our portly mayor Mr. Greg, and his buddy portly Paul the Billionaire, persistent racism and the even more pervasive homophobia that never seems to let go of so many of our fellow citizens' twisted, hateful hearts.But most days when I pull in behind the word processor, or plop down in front of the computer screen, I have too much, not too little, to say.