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Category Archives: people

sapphire.


The Sapphire Hotel on SE 50th and SE Hawthorne in Portland, was once known to be a hotel frequented by sailors, lovely ladies looking for a good time, and common folk stumbling in to pay those ladies a good visit. Most of them would rent rooms at an hourly rate, over night, or by the week as a gathering place to hang their hats.
Today, the hotel has been converted into what I call a swanky lounge where people still gather for swirly drinks, chatty conversation, and tantalizing food. In this photo, I was trying to capture the paper lights, amber lighting, and the overall ambience of the lounge.

This is what I captured.

 

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angels

 

 

angels

And there I was with Sprina and her mom hitching a ride across town to where my car was parked at the Step It Up, Inc. office. Just as we turned the corner – just a couple of blocks from the parking lot we drove over a metal plate and Sprina’s left front tire busted flat. We carefully pulled over to an open parking lot. The three of us women got out of the car to check the tire. Yep, it’s flat. As if we all knew how to change a tire we walked to the trunk and started to pull out the spare and the flat kit. As if we had any idea how to prop the car up or to use the jack – we sure tried. As if there was anyone else in sight to help – there wasn’t. We each took turns trying to prop up the front end, crank it up. Crank it up. Nope. We sure didn’t know how. I heard Sprina’s mom call to someone in what seemed to be the darkness of the night. “Excuse me, honey. Can you help us here. You see, we’ve got a flat and we’re trying to fix it. Can you help?”

I looked over and this little ole man – a security guard for the tall building we were parked next to had walked around from the other side of the building. His name was Dean. He confidently explained that he was the last person to try-n-fix a flat tire but he was sure he’d try. Dean was able to crank the car up half way until the jack fell over and the car rolled out from under. “This is going to be a long night.” I thought to myself. With all of his might and confidence Dean was finally able to jack the car up, pop off the old tire and swiftly assemble the new tire to the car. Phew. We all stood up and sung his praise, “You’re an angel! You’re an Angel!” Dean looked at the three of us with an awww shucks kind of expression and said, “I’m still working at my age. I aint gonna retire until the day someone throws dirt over my face.”

What a moving experience I had being part of a team like that and witnessing someone helping at the time of need.

 

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noble.

mrsnobleLast weekend was the opening for my sister’s summer public art project in Seattle. She was hired by the City of Seattle’s Arts and Cultural Affairs office to be a resident artist on the Fremont Bridge. The requirement was that she had all summer to create an art piece that would be temporarily displayed on the bridge. During her summer residency, one of the bridge operator towers was converted into her art studio where she integrated a “sound” art piece as the display. It was quite an incredible experience to participate as a volunteer or an Ambassadors of the Fremont Bridge Talks Back project. You see, the art piece that she developed was a sound piece that integrated and orchestrated all of the day-to-day sounds one would hear while crossing the bridge. For the next eight months (until April 2010), anytime the bridge opens for ships to pass through you will be able to hear the sound piece that she created. You can also call a toll free number to listen to this sound and a few heart felt stories from people who called in earlier this summer and spoke about their feelings or memories about the bridge (1-800-761-9941).

During the event on Saturday, Kristen recruited 100 volunteers to come out for 3 hours to participate as ambassadors of the bridge. Each volunteer wore an event t-shirt, an orange handkerchief, and processioned on one of 4 corners of the bridge while holding a sign. The bridge was decorated with colorful flags to incorporate all of the colors that the bridge had once been painted. Each time the bridge would open, horn players would come out of each tower to toot toot toot, the sound piece would play along the bridge, and all the volunteers would procession in a celebratory manner.  One volunteer who I enjoyed getting to know during the 3-hour celebration was Mrs. Noble. She was very proud to explain to me that she was a member of the Fremont Neighborhood Council and was participating that day as a representative. She told me that she was disappointed that no other members came out to participate, but that despite her age she was determined to procession for the entire event.  I quickly decided for myself that she was going to be one of those types of volunteers that I would have to handle with kid gloves. Throughout the event, I would always be sure to say hello to Mrs. Noble when I passed her and to ask how she was doing. She would simply say, “I’m fine. Doing fine.” as she would almost look away as a gesture to scurry me off.  

fremont bridge

As the day came to a close, I joined several other volunteers to help remove the flags that were hung along the sides of the bridge. I again stumbled upon Mrs. Noble standing along one side of the bridge with a proud look on her face that read, “I did it!”  She stopped me in my tracks and said, “I didn’t know you were Kristen’s sister?!! That’s so wonderful that you and your family came up to help Kristen.” We continued to talk about the fun experience we all had celebrating the history of the bridge. Before I hustled off to remove some of the last strings of flags, I asked Mrs. Noble if I could take her picture. I wasn’t sure if she’d be offended by my request, but she allowed me to go ahead and click click click. As I stood up to review the photo that I captured, I showed it to her and became concerned from hearing her huge GASP! I said, “Oh no! You don’t like it!?” She answered with huge emotion, “I love it! It’s wonderful! Can I get a copy of that?” My day was complete.

One of the best parts of that day, was when my family went to a local McMeniman’s pub all dressed in our tshirts and kerchiefs with huge smiles on our sunkissed faces hungry for burgers, fries, and of course a few pitchers of frosty beers. I was tickled as I walked inside the pub and passed the bar to find Mrs. Noble sitting by herself at the bar enjoying a huge burger and a pint of beer. I thought, “Now that’s my kind of lady!”

 

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