Since it is winter, Portland weather can be depended on to be cold and wet. But I have seen folks and plants lately that seem to be braving the elements.
The first folks were these roofers working on a lovely steep-roofed house on Stark Street. They have stripped off the old shingles, leaving only a bare framework of slats. Knowing they need to get the plywood, tar paper and shingles up before the weather changes must be a strong motivating factor.
Then there are plants which seem to be preparing for their best even while the radar is predicting the worst. The Daphne bush in out patio is getting ready to bloom.
In another yard in the neighborhood, this very low to the ground plant with big leaves is also defying the winter cold.
On the way to the Sidestreet Arts Gallery, where Auntie Bridgett shows her art, there is a beautiful shrine to nature and art, which has been created and maintained by some lovely soul.
The shrine started out as a tree stump in the parkway on 29th Avenue. Maybe the person who maintains the shrine loved the tree before it was cut down and is remembering it, or maybe the stump was already a stump. However it happened, it is now a beautiful, growing piece of art.
Delicate plantings around the stump
The tree stump has been repurposed, while still embedded in the ground, as a home for a new cedar tree. Small flowers have been planted where the roots form cavities and crannies. The climate here has encouraged ferns and mosses and waters everything.
Small ceramic suns have been placed around the stump, letting us know for sure that this is no mere accident of nature.
Ceramic suns show the hand of humanity
I love that Portland is home to so many people who respect and care for nature, and who put their heart and soul into making their neighborhoods beautiful, interesting, and loved.
After we had seen the Chinatown Museum, Grandpa Nelson suggested we walk south and see what we could find out about Dr. Wo’s neighborhood on Alder and 3rd. We walked, looking around at the buildings. I took pictures as we went past old buildings so I could look them up later.
It turns out, there are quite a few buildings in this neighborhood that were standing in 1903. The Hamilton Building has beautiful clean lines and a modern look, but another (whose name I didn’t see) is very ornate and looks almost too pretty to be real.
Too Pretty to be Real
The Bishop’s House from the Old Portland Cathedral is still standing, next door to where the Cathedral used to be. It was torn down and another cathedral rebuilt over on 19th Street, away from the danger of floods on the Willamette. But the Bishop’s House is still here.
We stood on the corner of SW 3rd and Alder, where Dr. Wo’s office stood in a small building. There is now a four story parking garage in its place. All the buildings at that intersection are modern and less interesting that I had hoped. I have to take a deep breath and chant “cities have to change or they die” a few times to come to peace with so much history coming down to make way for … cars.
Heading back to our car (yes, I know, I hate parking lots but I do sometimes use a car) we saw this old tiled entry in front of a deserted building. It means the building is probably from the 1890s, but there was no plaque to tell me.
It turns out Grandpa Nelson wanted some ice cream before we headed home, and there is a branch of Salt And Straw, a fabulous ice cream shop, in the Pine Street Market. It is called The Whiz Bang Bar and was delicious…chocolate shake for Grandpa Nelson, a vanilla custard swirl for me.
As we got into the car to head home, I noticed that we were parked behind the Kells Bar, which is famous for being “haunted”. But what I loved was the silly sign on the back, to make sure you didn’t forget where the bar was.
It has been bright, sunny and COLD the last few days. I have had fun taking pictures of the flowers that are thriving in the cold, and some noisy crows, as well.
Crows do really well in Portland. They drink out of the bubblers downtown and enjoy over ripe fruits and leftover take-out food here in the neighborhood.
They have something to say (I’m still not sure what) to everyone who passes by, including dogs on leashes and cats on porches. I reply and try to understand, but they don’t seem particularly motivated.
In the story I am writing, there is a character who was also a real-life Chinese doctor here in Portland, Dr. C. Gee Wo. He advertised every day in the local newspaper, The Oregonian. He was very successful, also investing in other businesses and donating to charities here in Portland and all along the west coast.
In order to describe his neighborhood and office, I have been trying to learn what the Chinatown here in Portland was like in 1903. So you can imagine how happy I was when I learned that a brand new Chinese museum had opened up! Yesterday, Grandpa Nelson and I went to visit it.
But first, there was a doctor’s visit and then, lunch. We parked by a wonderful old building called The Hazeltine, which was built in 1893. Amazing stone work right out on the street!
Pine Street Market
Across the street was the Pine Street Market, which is another old building that is now being shared by about five different restaurants. Checkerboard Pizza, Pollo Brava, Markum Ramen, and the Kim Jung Grill all vied for our attention.
We ate at “Bless Your Heart” Burgers, and they had wonderful burgers, fries for Grandpa Nelson, and Mexican Coke! I only have about two sodas a year, so I need to make them count.
Cool Dragon Logo
Then we walked across Burnside, past Voodoo Donuts, and to the Portland Chinatown Museum. As I said, it is brand new. There are still pictures resting on the floor, waiting to be hung, and the model that shows how the museum is laid out is still sitting on a back table. But there are wonderful displays of Chinese stores and restaurants, and essays and photographs that show when Chinese folks came to America, what jobs they did, and where they lived.
Mr. James Wong
I met James Wong, a retired teacher who is on the Board of museum. He told me that he was born and raised two blocks from this museum in the 1950s. He explained that there were really TWO “Old Chinatowns” in Portland. The one from the time of my story, 1903, was south of Burnside, along 2nd and 3rd Streets. The later one, from about 1905 onward, is north of Burnside. That would explain why Dr. Wo’s office is so far south, on Alder.
We read, looked and walked all over the museum, bought a book called Sweet Cakes, Long Journey by Dr. Marie Rose Wong, and went off to see what else we could see.
Yesterday Auntie Bridgett and I went for a long walk. We enjoyed the dogs and trees at Laurelhurst Park, and the pretty houses of the Laurelhurst neighborhood. We wandered for quite a ways before we decided to turn back towards home.
When we did, I realized that we were very close to The Lone Fir Cemetery and that it had been a long time since we visited the folks there. So we went in.
As you already know, I love the peace and perspective of this old cemetery. We saw familiar headstones; heroic pioneers and shady ladies, revered doctors and just plain folks. And, as so often happens, something new caught our eye. Mr. Frank Dekum.
Auntie Bridgett with Mr. Dekum
We know the name, because a big stone and brick building built by and named for him is on the corner of 3rd and Washington and we pass it every time we go downtown. Mr. Dekum came to Portland in 1853 with his family and started a very successful fruit business. He was also a candy maker, so obviously, a lover of good things.
His tallest namesake
When he had made his fortune in fruit and candy, he started investing in real estate development. He was involved in every building that went up on Washington Street between First and Third. He was on the Boards of banks and water companies, helping bring railroads and fresh drinking water to the city.
When the city was hit by a financial panic in 1893, property investments crashed and Mr. Dekum was badly impacted. He died the next year with only a fraction of his fortune intact. He is buried in our dear Lone Fir along with his eight children, so I can visit the whole family whenever I want.
It is winter in Portland, wet and pretty chilly most days. But it is also beautiful. After a really rainy night, I went for a walk in Laurelhurst Park.
Oh, before I forget. I met a lady walking her dog the other day, and she says we should call it “Squirrelhurst” Park.
I guess if you are walking a dog in the park, the squirrels become much more of a focus. Leash-training is a good thing.
Even though the calendar says it is mid-winter, not all the plants are shut down. These green shoots are promising jonquils, or snowdrops, pretty soon. I will keep my eye out for them!
Careless Camellias
The Camellias are beginning to bloom, both red and white, all over the park. They don’t worry about freezing temperatures, diminished sunlight and buckets of rain, apparently.
Puddles become a real thing in the park after a rain. The paths need to be walked with care, and the lowest parts are really muddy. Another reason to keep your dog on a leash!
Puddles
There is a stone wall that runs along a bit of the Cesar Chavez side of the park. Because of its shape, I call it The Wallosaurus. It has gotten a nice sweater of ferns and moss which makes it even more charming.
Wallosaurus
Another wall I love on the way to the park. Cast in concrete decades ago, it sort of looks like an aerial photograph of Oregon’s Willamette Valley…lush and green with a few roads and rivers running through. Very Pretty.
I had hoped to have happy news to post…..and here it is!
On Saturday, we got to be a part of a perfectly Portland activity, recycling our pretty Christmas tree. It took Auntie Bridgett a whole evening to take the ornaments off and pack them up.
The next morning, we lifted, swept needles, and carefully coordinated our movements… and dropped the naked tree horizontally off the balcony! It landed very neatly on the patio. This was Auntie Bridgett’s plan to keep from stringing needles all down the stairs, and it worked beautifully.
Grandpa Nelson had looked into where we could take our tree, since we don’t have yard waste pickup at our condominium. It turns out, the answer was our favorite local school, Sunnyside Elementary, only two blocks away! Hooray!
Walking the tree to Sunnyside School
Thanks to Grandpa Nelson for taking these pictures! I forgot my camera…
Instead of loading the tree onto our car, we just carried it between us. Along the way we saw evidence of other trees being delivered; car traffic, branches and bits of trees along the sidewalk, and happy shouts.
At the schoolyard, there were little kids holding signs, adults directing traffic and taking the five dollar donations, and bigger kids stacking the trees. It was a well oiled tree recycling extravaganza.
Trees on the schoolyard
On the way home, we saw this fellow bringing his tree to the yard…on his skateboard! Perfectly Portland.
Keeping things Perfectly Portland
Later in the day as we were walking back from the library, Auntie Bridgett and I saw the trees going into the chipper. They will be turned into mulch which will be used in the gardens around Sunnyside School itself. Talk about keeping it local.
I love that the powers that be have managed to work past some of the obstacles for getting good things done. Not all, of course…there is progress to be made. But it’s very nice when it works.
I can’t believe I am sending you two sad letters in a row. I apologize and hope for more cheerful news tomorrow.
Yesterday, Auntie Bridgett was robbed at the SideStreet Gallery where she works and shows her art. She was alone in the gallery and a fellow came in and visited for a few minutes, then left.
He came back a little later and said he wanted to buy one of her collage artworks, a wonderful piece called Blue. He said it was a gift for his mom. Bridgett was excited and they chatted about the work.
The man asked that she change the hanger on the picture so it would be easier for his mom to put up. That meant a trip into the back room for hardware. Then he asked for her to gift wrap it. That meant a trip across the gallery.
All this meant that her bag, with her wallet inside, was left by itself behind the counter. When the art was wrapped, the man made an excuse to leave without the art, promising to return soon with his credit card to finish the purchase.
When he left, her wallet was in his pocket. She didn’t notice for a while, but called the police when she did, then spent the evening reporting the theft to all the banks and credit card companies. The fellow had already been charging a great deal of money, but she will not be made to pay for it.
Overall, it looks like she lost a little over two hundred dollars cash (Christmas money) and her favorite Vespa patterned wallet.
But what has been lost for good is a certain level of trust, of faith in the goodness of people. We knew that in Salinas, where we used to live, there were people who would break into houses and take things. I guess we knew there were bad people in Portland, but they were always somewhere else, not in our immediate vicinity. Now we know they can touch us.
A level of innocence that we probably didn’t have any right to is gone. And that is disillusioning.
Yesterday was a sad day for me here in Portland. I am all right. Let me explain.
Great Uncles Tim and Jim, Great Grandpa Lowell, and me in 1966
Yesterday I found out that my oldest brother, your great uncle Tim, has had a heart attack. He is in a hospital in San Diego, and the people there are trying to get him better.
He was in the Marine Corps and spent many years in Viet Nam during the war there. He has been hit by hand granade shrapnel, had Malaria a few times, and lived on what he could hunt when he got separated from his unit for a few days. He has been a tough guy.
But he is seventy years old, has smoked for most of his life, and doesn’t take care of himself. So it is not a surprise that he is sick. But you can see something coming and it still hurts.
Great Uncle Tim at his wedding to a different Auntie Bridget
My nephew Wade, Tim’s son, has come out from New York to visit his dad and see what can be done to put him on the road to recovery. Tim’s memory is affected and he is having trouble placing people. I am hoping for a happy resolution, recovery and a return home for Tim. But, like for Momma and Dad and our brother Jim before him, I will most likely live to mourn the brother who taught me how to climb trees and clean fish.
Great Uncle Tim, Great Grandma Billie, and Grandpa Nelson, the last time we were all together, about 2010
