By Anne Scheck
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In Honor of April, a Month for Child Protection By Anne Scheck
This is the story of two foster children --- one adopted by us, one we knew for only a short time. I thought about them both every day this month. Sparkling blue pinwheels were everywhere, a reminder. Now, on the last day of April, I want to say thank you to the people who help children. When we brought home a tiny little girl with night terrors and the seeming inability to cry – communication was either by screaming or stone-cold shutdowns tighter than a clam shell – I grew to recognize the underlying grit on display. We were determined to become her parents. It seemed like forever for the adoption to go through, but when it did, in a wood-paneled courtroom, all I felt was relief. The judge and lawyers, meanwhile, looked more jubilant than the family they’d just congratulated. Photos that day show both a surprisingly somber child, with one parent wearing the expression of a tired traveler from a long, hard-fought journey. Which was me, of course. My daughter had a difficult childhood, but every hard step was followed by a leap. In the place where we lived then, I had great help – from the state. Most of it came from a seasoned social worker named Mary, who viewed me, at first, with a bit of skepticism, I think; We couldn’t have been more different. She was getting ready for retirement, and always wore high heels and dressy skirts. She spoke in a voice in the dulcet tones of a radio broadcaster. I was revved up early in my career, always clad in sweatshirts and old deck shoes -- and I can be heard three rooms away. During this month, I think of Mary so much. Even after all these years, I miss her. I wish she was still here. I always wanted to tell her how great things turned out. And that, years ago, when our daughter was tested for the gifted program in a highly competitive elementary school, she made it in – and when I accidentally received more documentation about why she did than seemed to be legally permitted, I read something that I think was just like Mary would have written. It characterized our home life as “chaotic but stable.” I was pronounced “a strong personality” with this overarching belief in the golden rule that bordered on unrealistic. Mary told me, during one of our last visits, she considered me an initially hard-to-fathom combination of tough and soft. I like to think that is just what it took to raise a child like ours. Now I look at our daughter, and I wish Mary were alive to see that even though this little girl and I aren’t genetically related, she got that same mix – only a whole lot better alchemy. She’s tough only when the time is right, and soft for everyone. Perhaps it is no surprise that after our daughter grew up, went off to college, and established her own life, I would want to repay the same system that helped me. This time, it was different. I was in Oregon. It only took one foster child for me to quit – there were late or missing appointments with state providers, who probably were over-worked but sometimes never told me so. There was, at times, such bafflingly incomplete assistance that I hired my own child therapist and paid out-of-pocket to get the help I felt we needed. The bright spots were from CASA and caring people who would slip me special atta-gals, one of whom told me “the system is broken.” I mean, it was said just like that. When I lost that foster child, who was packed off to a higher level of care, I seethed for days about bureaucratic treatment. I still feel a deep, angry, sad knot in my chest when my thoughts go that far back. I believe the pain would still be there had it not been for a great twist of fate. Shortly thereafter, I was recruited to work for Oregon’s foster care ombudsman as a volunteer. And if you want to find a buried treasure with a trove of gold, I’d suggest you start there, where everyone’s heart is made of that shiny 24-carat metal. So, as April comes to an end, I think of them. Some of the best people I have known in the world, working day-after-day to advocate, to uphold, to mediate. They were platinum people who navigated a field full of brush fires daily, extinguishing them with methodical expertise. So, on this last day of April 2023, I am buying Mother’s Day Cards for some of those who remain so committed. I will cross out the part with maternal messages and write in “hero” instead. Because there is no greater benefit to people across the State of Oregon than those who make such differences, and I cannot help but feel grateful to them. Thank you, too, Mary, for being there more than three decades ago. Thank you, CASA, and thank you, most of all, to my daughter. There is no finer woman. Anne Scheck, April 30, 2023 By Anne Scheck When does a difference of opinion between the county and the city become a dispute? Almost never, or so it seems from recent events. After a traffic evaluation by engineer Todd Whitaker, the public works director for Polk County, was pronounced partly wrong by Fred Evander, planning manager for Independence, Whitaker appeared to regard it only as a signal that the two may need to talk more. "I am hopeful this can be resolved," Whitaker said, when asked about an Independence Planning Commission meeting this past spring, where some of his findings about the potential traffic impact from a planned development in the southwest section of the city were downplayed by Evander. Whitaker, who oversees county roadways, had raised concerns about the number of drivers who might want to go south from a proposed intersection at Talmadge Road – predicting many would be likely to take it straight to Stapleton Road, once the subdivision is built. “Part of what Mr. Whitaker said was not correct,” Evander told the commissioners. After looking over the trip data, Evander said he was confident some motorists would head north on Talmadge to Monmouth Street, linking to the highway from there. The only planning commissioner to weigh in during the meeting was Rebecca Jay, who observed that “people are going to figure out pretty quick that they don’t have to go through downtown” in order to go south. Whitaker said he continues to consider the future traffic pattern “a matter of concern.” But rather than issuing a challenge over it, he helped with Independence’s recent transportation system plan (TSP), as a member of the TSP’s technical advisory committee. If it sounds like Whitaker is taking a soft-pedal approach to matters of county jurisdiction, it seems that he’s right in line with other county officials. The responsibility for the oversight, reconditioning and upkeep of roads and streets can sometimes be difficult to discern – county thoroughfares sometimes run right into city streets, noted Polk County Commissioner Lyle Mordhorst, who also serves as the county's transportation liaison to the Oregon Department of Transportation. For example, Hanna Road, north of Independence, is mostly in the county. However, a small part of it, a length of about two blocks, is within an offshoot of Independence. "So, when the county repaved Hanna Road, that small portion was also paved," Mordhorst said. Such situations are not unique to Polk County, he added. In its city charter, Independence defines itself as the territory surrounded by its boundaries. However, the Independence Bridge is an iconic example of the questions that can swirl over jurisdiction. Since Independence extended its urban growth boundary, and annexed land around the bridge, inquiries have arisen about cost-sharing in repairs anticipated for the bridge. “We are currently in discussion with Independence about assuming a portion of the maintenance costs,” said Whitaker. Polk County’s roadway extends to the center of the Independence Bridge, joining Marion County's half at the middle. Although Marion County is the lead agency for managing the maintenance of the bridge, Polk County pays some of that expense under an existing agreement with Marion County. “We’ve reached out to the city, in the hope that we can have a team effort on this,” said Mordhorst. Independence’s previous TSP – also referenced in the current one – states that “as city limits expand to encompass county road segments, ownership of these road segments is transferred to the city, so the roads may be maintained to urban standards.” The city will simultaneously annex land and the county roads “found within, or bordering, the newly annexed land,” according to the TSP. However, Independence Mayor John McArdle said he was unaware of “any agreement for the city to own, operate, manage, fund” the bridge – a conclusion also reached by the city’s director of public works, Gerald Fisher. “At this time, I have not seen any records indicating that the city has jurisdiction or any maintenance responsibility for the bridge, the intersection, or Corvallis Road,” Fisher said. “All of my mapping says that is under county control,” Fisher added. In fact, the history of the Independence Bridge is a testament to team effort – and it bears witness to an early tragedy, as well. Nearly 75 years ago, a joint endeavor to replace the nearly century-old ferry crossing was undertaken; Money for the bridge was raised through local fundraising, from state allocations, and by Marion and Polk counties, which both contributed 25% of the cost, according to accounts of the time. By the holiday season of 1950, the bridge was ready for a festive ribbon cutting. In a special tribute to the bridge’s opening, an article five years ago in the Statesman-Journal looked into the archives of that day, and the report on the death that occurred. The son of Independence founder Henry Hill, Verd Hill, died from a sudden heart attack during that December ceremony, “slumped over in his chair on the dedication platform just two minutes before he was scheduled to speak.” Recently, a jurisdiction issue unfolded on a smaller scale within the city, when resident Gary Brown inquired about the long-term parking of a large recreational vehicle along the north end of Stryker Road. When the Independence Police Department (IPD) got the call from Brown, the officer sent him to the Polk County Sheriff's Office instead, presuming that the stretch of street was within the county. However, upon investigation, it turned out that the large vehicle was within the city’s jurisdiction, confirmed Polk County Sheriff Mark Garton. Towing it could have cost two-to-three thousand dollars, he said. But it wasn't just the potential cost that made his office reluctant to become more involved, he pointed out. The IPD and the Sheriff's Office have a good relationship, he explained. "When something is outside our area, I don't want to encroach on another (agency's) area of responsibility," Garton said. These "areas of responsibilities," which are sometimes referred to as jurisdictions, can be confusing to the public, and understandably so, he added. For example, if an incident in Independence demonstrates a need for mental health intervention, it becomes a matter for the sheriff's office. The "mobile crisis team" – a deputy and a clinician – is dispatched by the county. "There's a lot of complexity to this," Garton said. In fact, the site that sparked the parking complaint isn’t actually in the city limits, but the road right-of-way belongs to the city, said Independence Police Chief Robert Mason. “I know this is confusing and has been confusing to the agencies trying to respond to the many complaints.” The situation concluded in what some neighbors called “a happy ending.” Stryker Road now has a series of no-parking signs where the recreational vehicle once parked, thanks to the Independence Police Department – and to “Citizen Brown,” as he was dubbed by friends for his repeated follow-up on the issue over several weeks. Asked if the outcome might be as favorable for the Independence Bridge, Polk County Commissioner Mordhorst said he’s hopeful that an amicable agreement between the county and city can be reached. And, because Independence recently lost its city manager and the police chief is temporarily in that role, Mordhorst said he believes that pressing the issue isn't as important as giving the city time to adjust to recent changes. He wants "to build rapport" with Independence, Mordhorst stressed. "I think we have the time to do that," he added. Working in tandem on the Independence urban growth boundary – including annexation and jurisdictional matters – apparently is just what the Polk County Board of Commissioners and the City of Independence had in mind 28 years ago, when the two agencies entered into an intergovernmental agreement pledging to have a “cooperative process” in which jurisdictional issues were reviewed. When disagreements occurred, both the commission and the city council promised to meet “to discuss a resolution of the matter.” The 1993 document, which was signed before Mayor McArdle or Commissioner Mordhorst were elected, is included in a comprehensive plan for Independence that was adopted 20 years ago – partially to plan for future needs, including ones of jurisdiction. Grammar Advocates See Signs in Independence Showing Need for Spell ChecksBy Anne Scheck It started at the Starduster Café, the cozy diner on Airport Road where planes can be seen taking off and landing on the adjacent airfield. What was flying around one morning this past week at a corner table was a conversation about grammar violation. That’s right. It was a discussion of an infraction involving the alleged misplacement of a hyphen, the little dash known for connecting words. The proof was right there on the roadway nearby, on two bright green adopt-a-street signs. The signs had the same wording but a different number of hyphens. Over cups of hot coffee and steaming tea, the question arose: Who first spotted this “hyphen mismatch” on the two signs? No one knew for sure, but word was out that one of the two identical signs was missing a hyphen. At a time of continuing pandemic and monetary inflation, it might seem like errors in grammar on signs around the city are a comparatively small issue. However, this is Independence, a place where civic regard is so strong that even the rain is a source of pride, inspiring a poem about the loveliness of endless winter drizzle here in the mid-Willamette Valley by a Polk County nature writer as well as a recent city-sponsored art contest by elementary school students, who competed recently to illustrate the importance of stormwater drainage. One local pilot explained that punctuation indeed is a vital matter. “Let’s eat grandma” is very different from “let’s eat, grandma,” he said. One comma “can make all the difference,” he stressed, though he declined to be identified for weighing in on whether a tiny hyphen could be considered significant on a sign. So, it seemed appropriate to determine if other such grammar lapses on signage could be found on city streets, in a town where some people seem to take grammar usage seriously. There are several examples, from Main Street to Monmouth Street. In fact, the list of these transgressions can be seen by any grammar advocate who has the time to drive randomly around during a busy holiday season just to look at whatever signs are in sight. Incomplete sentences seem fairly frequent. For years, the stately fire station of Polk County Fire District No. 1 has had a sign with hand-posted movable letters. This often results in messages with only a few words and, in windy weather, some letters seem prone to blowing off. News of pancake feeds and other events also get soiled in downpours. This prompted the fire district to seek approval for a better, more modern and stable sign, which is anxiously awaited by personnel there, according to Fire Chief Ben Stange. However, the current hitches in the supply chain have meant delays in its assembly. “The good news is the parts they've been waiting on are in the US,” he said. The bad news is “at last check, they were in a shipping container in Long Beach,” he added. “So, unfortunately, we're still looking at a couple months,” he explained. pelling errors may be easily seen. When wreaths went up for sale in Independence -- advertised with pointing arrows on hand-written signs -- no one seemed to have trouble reading them, despite the fact that the name for the circular door decorations had been written incorrectly on one along Monmouth Street. “Well, you can tell what they mean,” said one of those who passed by. However, the homeowner of the house where the sign was placed didn’t seem to see it the same way. “The sign in my yard drives me nuts,” she stated, noting that she has removed it but “it gets put back.” Miscommunication can be a challenge. In Pioneer Park, a sign that labels a dog-waste station could be mistaken for a disposal unit for canine marijuana. Called “DogiPot,” it has been a “head-scratcher” for certain dog walkers. Actually, that’s the name of a well-known brand of industrial dog supplies, including “earth-ready” bags for collecting defecation. However, the lettering, and lack of explanation, is apparently seen as amusing by a few who use the park. The company has a website that helpfully describes all of its products, which are related solely to canine clean-up. Out-of-date announcements can linger. A sign in a parking space at Central High School, which seems to be celebrating a return to in-person school, hopefully proclaims graduation in 2020 – but the date is no mistake. The painted sign on the pavement actually is a leftover from a pre-covid fundraiser in which seniors bought designated parking spaces, according to Emily Mentzer, communication coordinator for Central School District 13J. “It wasn't done last year because students were, for the most part, not on campus,” she reported. And it wasn't done this year because fall has been so busy getting back into school, she added. Did the senior graduate? That couldn’t be verified but there’s a good chance of it. More than 80% got their diploma that year. Unknown acronyms can crop up. On Main Street, the Elks Club weekend dinner – with a posted marquis sign that announced a “YUM” bowl this past week – turned out to be referencing an actual name, rather than initials for a special dinnertime fare. The bowl is not called “yummy” because, although it is, it actually imitates a dish made by the Yumm Café. “We did our own version,” explained Beverly Bunch, a volunteer and Elks Club member, when asked why there was no additional “m” at the end. The Elks YUM bowl creation has beans, rice, cilantro, tomato, black olives and other ingredients, she said. It also includes the kind of sauce used by the Yumm Café, “which you can buy,” she advised. Down the block from where the YUM bowls were being prepared on Friday, Paul Sieber, who had a large dental practice for many years, pondered the importance of grammar when asked about it as he was finishing lunch at the Ovenbird Bakery. “Grammar tells you a lot about the person who is speaking,” he said. Many of his patients revealed their background in the way they talked, he recalled. “I don’t mean this in a way that is for the better, or for the worse,” he said. Some ways of communicating give clues as to underlying heritage, he pointed out. He cited what is sometimes referred to as “Pennsylvania Dutch,” which he called a charming but sometimes different way of speaking. “Throw the cow over the fence some hay,” is one such common example, he said. One of the participants in the conversation that kicked off the topic at the Starduster Café, Amy Jackson, also was asked how important she thought grammar skills can be. After all, when a sign selling Christmas wreaths is misspelled, people who see the sign still know what is being sold; When someone utters a sentence with the wrong verb tense, it isn’t likely to be misunderstood. True, she agreed. “But if you use good grammar, there are times when, maybe, it might help you,” Jackson said, noting that correct use of grammar may be evident, even impressive, in situations ranging from a pre-employment interview to on-the-job interactions. Language is “communication and communication is so important,” she observed. Jackson has a reputation for good communication – for using impeccable grammar among friends in her north Independence neighborhood. However, she’s also known for not imposing her grammar standards on others. But right there in her kitchen, and sometimes even on her tabletop, is a large ceramic cup with the words “I’m silently correcting your grammar.” By Anne Scheck A recent report on the unavailability of yellow paint is causing red flags to fly. When Independence Police Chief Robert Mason, who’s scheduled to become the interim city manager in a few days, was asked at a recent city council meeting why there aren’t more yellow no-parking zones, he had the answer – in dollars and cents. Funds for it don’t seem to be in the budget, he explained. Soon it became evident that some residents had tuned in to the live-streamed meeting, viewed that comment, and considered his statement nothing short of eye-opening. “I’d love to go out there and do their job for them,” said Julie Baker, apparently frustrated that a solution involving the application of paint has been put off. However, if she took matters into her own hands near her house with a can of semi-gloss yellow and a paintbrush, “I’d get slapped with a graffiti or destruction of property charge,” she said. A follow-up inquiry to the police chief was answered with the same candor he exhibited at the city council meeting. “I was told they don’t have a budget to paint all curbs that I would like to have painted,” Mason said. However, even if the city did have the buckets of money for the buckets of paint, the Independence Police Department doesn’t do any of the painting, he pointed out. “Curb painting is done by contractors as directed by the public works department,” he explained. Is this how the need for such color-coding on curbs slipped through the proverbial cracks? For nearly a year, the city’s public works department has been functioning without a director. City Manager Tom Pessemier took on that additional role when it was vacated last winter. When Pessemier announced his imminent departure less than a month ago, the new public works director, Gerald Fisher, had been on the job only a few weeks. Unsurprisingly, Fisher didn’t know at that time about the need for more mustard-colored curbs. “I’ve been recently made aware of concerns around parking, signage and curb painting requests and will review each of them as they are received,” Fisher said, when contacted. Curb painting has to be conducted during the dry weather season, so any outdoor painting projects – from street striping to street edging – won’t be undertaken until at least spring, he said. “There will be time for me to review our past practices for pavement striping and curb painting,” Fisher noted, adding that this will allow consideration of what changes, if any, are needed based on funding availability, standards related to the application and use of roadway signage and striping, as well as determining the “engineering priority for safety reasons.” The sooner the better, according to some residents. From streets downtown to those in the city’s subdivisions, where and how yellow curbs are placed has been a source of confusion for some residents. At Northgate and Hyacinth, for example, a corner has long been identified by neighbors as in sore need of the yellow paint, to stop cars from parking there and obscuring the ability to see around the curve. And the intersection of C and Main streets by Riverview Park has been called an accident waiting to happen – the absence of yellow paint allegedly means too many cars parked by that corner make it hard to see oncoming traffic on Main Street when making a turn. The police chief seemed sympathetic to the criticisms. “I, when representing the traffic safety commission, have requested that yellow curbs be painted in areas where parking is a concern and enforcement is requested,” he said. “I feel it is much fairer to enforce parking restrictions when a yellow curb indicates parking is not allowed rather than measuring and enforcing from the written code.” After all, many people are “unaware of parking restrictions without visible indications like signs or yellow paint,” he observed. When easy-to-understand curb color is missing, parking problems can follow, agitating residents – as in the case of the Hyacinth-Northgate curve, in the Northgate neighborhood off of Gun Club Road. When cars park along the curve, they interfere with the line of sight by drivers navigating that part of the street, according to two of the people who live nearby. The issue, which also arose at the city’s recent traffic safety commission meeting – along with the perceived need for more street markings – was the subject of a liaison report by City Councilor Dawn Hedrick-Roden, who serves as council’s representative to that commission. “We are going to research getting those paints back on curbs,” Hedrick-Roden told fellow city councilors. “I think it was a great meeting,” she said. Painting curbs yellow to show where parking isn’t allowed turns out to be far more complicated than simply spraying on the durable color. Nearly 75 years ago, “The Police Journal,” an international magazine for law enforcement that’s still being published today, weighed in with commentary on streets that included the obvious fact that many of them in towns and cities aren’t very well planned, due to being old pathways now paved, as “survivors of food and cart tracks.” For anyone who doubts that this form of street preservation has occurred in Independence, the metal girds around curbs in some downtown locations, including the corner by the library, provide proof; The hard bands are remnants of a bygone era when they were installed to protect against the damage of carriage wheels. That isn’t the only historic legacy: the section of downtown where some current drivers worry about nosing out into traffic on Main Street is owned and operated by the state not the city, as part of Highway 51. Nor is everyone more anxious to see more yellow on the corners there. “I’ve been here for years with quite a view on that corner,” said Bonnie Andrews, owner of Melting Pot Candy, with a storefront window that faces the part of Main Street that has been a topic of some concern. “And I can tell you that I have never seen anything happen. Nothing,” she said. Her worry is that more yellow areas “will mean we will lose more parking, and we actually probably need more of it,” she said. That’s a concern also expressed by Pete Ferren, who lives in one of the apartments at Independence Landing. Recently, Ferren addressed the city council, advising them that, although Osprey Lane seems too narrow for parking on both sides of the street when there is two-way traffic, it’s nonetheless necessary. Many of his neighbors have two cars, he noted. Osprey Lane provides spaces for the overflow and “I recommend that you consider leaving parking on both sides of the street and that you consider one-way traffic” there instead, he said. With anticipated growth, the parking crunch is only going to increase, he stressed. The way to address the problem may not lie only in decisions on where to put yellow paint. Study after study has shown that parking challenges can be solved, at least partly, by charging parking fees. However, the complications won’t end there, according to one of the most highly published experts on the matter, Donald Shoup, a distinguished professor of urban planning at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). Mixing free parking with paid parking can lead to a phenomenon known as cruising, in which motorists creep along streets looking for the no-cost alternative, often circling back to continue the quest – a situation that can mean a special type of traffic clog. “The obvious waste of time and fuel is even more appalling when we consider the low speed and fuel efficiency of cruising cars,” Shoup wrote recently in Access Magazine, which covers research by the University of California Transportation Center. He and his graduate students at UCLA have found that traffic congestion isn’t always caused by the volume of drivers on their way to a destination but, rather, by those who have arrived at the place they intended to go – and are on a slow hunt to find a parking place. Independence Historic District: A Place of Pride and Controversy By Anne Scheck At the same city council meeting where two downtown property owners received the city’s first achievement award for historic preservation, a homeowner testified that Independence was preventing her from restoring her turn-of-the-century house the same way they did. A lot line on her property had escaped notice for years, a boundary that means the city owns part of her yard, including a sliver of the home’s front porch. This is making it impossible for her to move forward with plans for similar refurbishment, said Catherine Underwood-Bush. “In a city that claims they want to preserve historic properties this, in effect, does condemn the property,” she told the city councilors in public testimony during the meeting. So far, the city has declined to sell or return that portion back to her, she added. “Why would I continue to put any time, effort or money into restoring a home that I have no equity in, at this point?” she asked. Before Underwood-Bush spoke, the city councilors were advised by Mayor John McArdle – citing legal advice -- to listen to her comments but not to respond to them. Underwood-Bush confirmed that she’d hired an attorney. “The reason a lawyer got involved was because, after a year of no responses, that was my only option to get this moving forward,” she told the councilors. Sitting nearby as Underwood-Bush recounted her property-line plight were Jeff Myers and Tyler Kolb, recipients of the first ever “Cairns-Weaver Award” for excellence in historic preservation. After the meeting, the two held their plaques while photos were taken. They both said they were proud and honored; Underwood-Bush, however, said she was deeply disappointed. If this seems like an unusual instance of contrasting viewpoints about decisions in the city’s oldest residential area, it isn’t. In fact, the occurrence at the recent city council meeting is far from the only one in which perspectives differ substantially on issues within the historic district. From debates about the appearance and size of store signs to calls for protecting the brick archways on downtown buildings, a band of impassioned, volunteer appointees have worked largely behind the scenes on such situations, to keep several blocks at the downtown core looking like a chapter from its architectural past. They form a board known as the Historic Preservation Commission (HPC). They’re the ones who made the selection for the Cairns-Weaver award; They’re the ones who came up with the idea and approved the concept; They’re the ones who first heard Underwood-Bush plead her case. They have weighed in on everything from the library “reader board” – a box-like structure that flashes messages, which was pronounced an atrocity by one member – to the apartments at Independence Landing, which were similarly disparaged by another. “There is zero warmth to them. Zero character,” said HPC member Jennifer Flores, when asked to recount her assessment of the riverfront apartment complex. In contrast, “look at the arches over any window or even some doors downtown,” she said. “They have personality.” “The architectural accoutrements on our historic buildings downtown are what give our town its charm and historic vibe,” she added. Underwood-Bush first took her problem to the HPC, to inform commissioners that it’s affecting her ability not just to refinance her home, but to meet the vision so often expressed by city officials: Home restoration. The property line is set along the outer area of her front porch -- a porch that has been reconstructed to look like it did when the 1880-era home was moved near Pioneer Park in 1923. A swath of the land had been vacated to the home years ago, but it was reclaimed by the city after payment of property taxes on it had lapsed – it fell through the cracks after Underwood-Bush became divorced. She was stunned to learn that ownership had changed. “The city didn’t even know they had it until I told them,” Underwood-Bush stated at the council meeting. The home contains symbols of a bygone time, from an oval bathtub with clawed feet to the original parlor chandelier, with its light-catching teardrops. However, there’s a lot more work needed on the house, according to Underwood-Bush, who gave a brief tour of the home recently. Between her dining area and the kitchen, for example, a century-old wood floor meets up with decades-old linoleum. When City Manager Pessemier viewed the property -- after multiple requests and months of waiting, Underwood-Bush asserted -- the conversation "did not go well," she said. She was informed that nothing further would happen, she said. However, noting that the city manager is resigning from his job, she isn't sure of the final outcome. (Asked about the matter involving Underwood-Bush, Pessemier declined comment.) Since 1989, the city’s historic district has been on the National Register of Historic Places. Having a well-defined historic area brings benefits ranging from placing emphasis on design quality to creating a source of civic pride, according to the National Trust for Historic Preservation. Part of the HPC’s prescribed role includes hearings on construction and alterations within the district. The commission was formed to “identify, recognize, and preserve significant properties that showcase the community’s history,” according to the city’s description. The HPC also is charged with encouraging “the rehabilitation and ongoing upkeep of historic resources” as well as strengthening public support for historic preservation efforts. Sometimes that requires giving an instructive talk, observed Curtis Tidmore, a longtime HPC member who also serves on the board of The Heritage Museum Society, a non-profit organization that helps support the city’s museum. “I've had several people, in the time I have lived here, knock on my door wanting to sell new siding and vinyl windows,” Tidmore observed. “When I told them I wasn't allowed to do that kind of work (on the home), they quickly corrected me saying that I could,” he recalled. “Well, needless to say, each one of them got a short lesson on what you have to get approval from -- the HPC,” he said. However, local government control of a historic district has its drawbacks, said Ken Larson, who lives in one of the city’s most well-known historic homes, the “Henry Hill House.” Its name reflects the town’s founding family, and he takes pride in the buttercup yellow house with its pillared porch. However, he worries about it, too. "If this would pass out of our family, it would go into this commercial zone," he explained, gesturing to the surrounding area. "That would mean that the bottom floor would have to be commercial," he said. Independence initially came about in 1845, when Elvin Thorp arrived and claimed land. Eventually that land claim was named after the starting place of many of those early pioneers, Independence MO. Then, in 1847, Henry Hill staked out more land, expanding the young community. A few decades later, the new city formulated its first set of ordinances, which demonstrated commitment to housing -- the offense of “disorderly” homes was second only to acts of bad behavior. On large sheafs of paper penned in hand-written ink, these laws of yesteryear remain part of the record at the Independence Civic Center, and they include some nuisance rules similar to current ones, such as a warning against roosters being kept in town, which was alleged to make egg-laying hens “cross and peevish.” The historic flavor of the city has been embraced by some local builders, including Yul Provancha and his wife, Mary, who currently are at work on a house down the block from the civic center. The home’s first floor will be a cupcake shop, Provancha said. The second floor is slated to be a beauty salon. Provancha also refurbished, restored and rebuilt the structure on Main Street that now houses Gilgamesh-The River. As the city moves forward and such projects seem to win support and approval, Underwood-Bush is hoping that the same will happen for her, as she continues the battle to win back a slice of land she’s lost. “If that doesn’t happen, I feel like I have to file a lawsuit,” she said. “And that’s something I just really don’t want to do.” By Anne Scheck The city is heading back to the future with new development – if lingering parking issues downtown don’t keep history from repeating itself. Two projects by Aaron Young, a developer in town, got the green light in separate decisions this past week. One approval was for a new 4,500-square-foot building on a parcel of Independence Landing known as Lot #7. The other go-ahead was for resuming construction on the 15-year-old skeletal relic at Second and Monmouth streets, invariably referred to by locals as “Stonehenge.” Meanwhile, Young’s first development, Osprey Point, is being built on land sold to him by the city four years ago. The mixed-use, multi-story complex, on C Street across from the Independence Hotel, also is part of Independence Landing, the name designated years ago when the city bought 18 acres along the Willamette River and put more than $3 million into building streets and utilities, to make it “shovel-ready.” The half nearest the river was sold to Gresham-based Tokola Properties for $162,000, with some mandatory municipal fees also paid by the city, according to early escrow documents. Indy Landing, as it is sometimes called, is one reason that redevelopment downtown is regarded by some residents as the community’s equivalent of a double-edged sword. “I super-duper hate the hotel and apartments,” said Jennifer Flores, who has served for several years on the city’s Historic Preservation Commission (HPC). She made the remark at last Wednesday’s HPC meeting, during what appeared to be a plea to maintain consistency with older downtown buildings when considering Young’s most recent acquisition, the commonly labeled “Stonehenge,” which now is known as “Station 203.” Though Young’s plans were given a positive review, Flores is far from the only one with misgivings about new construction in the area. City officials have said many other small towns are enviably impressed with the riverfront buildings by Tokola Properties, but some residents have observed that the 110-apartment complex created parking challenges, which weren’t apparent on the original configuration submitted with the proposal. In fact, an artist’s rendering of those plans – which shows a relatively spacious central area flanked by apartments – is still on display at the city’s event center. And parking along Osprey Lane by the apartments, which was designed to be limited to only one side, now has cars parked on both sides of the street most days. But Young is regarded as having a real homegrown advantage. “They grew up here, they really want to do it right,” said Michael Cairns, referring to Young and his wife Amy. Station 203 “would finally finish an eyesore,” said Cairns, who was on the HPC for years and has an annual award given by the commission named after him. Young’s design incorporates details from existing downtown buildings, Cairns noted. Young’s projects are in the city’s urban renewal district, where they are eligible for special breaks – and he’s getting some soon for Lot #7, if all goes according to plan. The original purchase offer – $180,000 for the city-owned 10,000-square lot – came with a requirement to put in parking. Once those 10 parking spots are built, that space will revert to the city, removing it from taxes. Additionally, Young will be repaid for other costs. The end result will be a new Elks Lodge; A plan for the former one nearby is expected to be made public soon. “Once the property is deeded to Young Development, they will partition the property between the parking and building areas, complete construction and then transfer the parking lot back to the city,” explained Tom Pessemier, Independence City Manager. “Payment to the city will happen upon deeding the property to the developer and then improvement rebates will happen as the developer performs their obligations,” he said. Young is obligated to meet certain milestones to qualify for reimbursement, under the terms of the agreement. “This is very similar to many other transactions and allows for protections for both parties,” Pessemier added. Young’s “New Elks Lodge Project,” as it is sometimes called, got a yes vote last Monday night by the Independence Planning Commission. However, parking became a source of discussion, a fairly frequent occurrence at recent city meetings. “I don’t understand where people are going to park,” said Planning Commissioner Rebecca Jay, while looking over Young’s application. Young, who attended the meeting, agreed that “parking can be a major problem in a small town.” However, city planner Fred Evander, the presiding staff member, said the number of parking places was in line with the city code. “Then I don’t think the city showed much foresight here,” Jay said. In response, Planning Commissioner Kate Schwarzler reiterated Evander’s statement that “this meets the code.” At the previous meeting, Schwarzler had voiced concerns about parking spaces downtown, when a church group unveiled plans to meet for Sunday service in a building that’s slated to be office space during the week. Asked why she seemed worried over parking-space use on Sunday mornings but seemingly less troubled by parking availability near Independence Landing, Schwarzler explained that “my concern from the previous month centered around a key aspect of that application, which is that it was a conditional use application.” “For the application we reviewed Monday, we reviewed it against the criteria in the code, and noted the applicant met the parking criteria,” she said. Jay said that the parking along Osprey Lane, which might be an option for those using the new Elks Lodge, sometimes has hard-to-navigate sidewalks because driveways to Tokola’s rental units sometimes are being used by large cars, such as sports utility vehicles, which “hang over onto the sidewalk.” “The department does receive complaints about parking,” affirmed Independence Police Chief Robert Mason, who previously had requested some potentially mitigating “language changes” on parking. However, the city council chose not to adopt it. As for Osprey Lane, the original prohibition against parking on both sides of that street has been dropped and now it’s allowed, he explained. Several parking-construction surveys put the minimum cost of a paved parking space at a small city hub – meaning a parking space on a lot, not in a garage or a parking structure – at $5,000 to $10,000. For a city like Independence, with a debt now at more than $43 million, parking could become a precious commodity – as it is for many cities, according to the National Parking Association. Last year, parking reform was the subject of an in-depth presentation by the Oregon chapter of the American Planning Association, which described parking spaces in downtown areas of Oregon as consuming significant land use. Proposed solutions ranged from conducting parking audits to learn who’s actually using the spaces to “unbundling” parking spots from tenant units, so that they can be rented separately in rental housing by tenants who have parking needs. Citing “barriers and concerns” regarding parking, Allison Platt, core area project manager for the City of Bend, advised that this is a topic that “you don’t want to just leave as the elephant in the room.” It’s difficult to grapple with the issue, but it won’t go away, she said. Plans for parking at Independence’s Station 203 are likely to be firmed up in the near future, possibly during a site review. Now, however, the half-constructed building finally seems set to undergo transformation. Curtis Tidmore, who chaired the HPC meeting last week, declined to express his opinion on the proposal before the meeting had officially begun, even when pressed to share his view on how it felt to finally receive plans for rebuilding the massive structure. “Well, let me put it this way,” he said prior to calling the meeting to order. “I’m certainly glad to be at a point where we’re able to hold a hearing on this.” Analysis: Indy’s Loss of City Manager, Pessemier Seeks Change Not New JobBy Anne Scheck The departure of City Manager Tom Pessemier at the end of this month, after three years on the job, is sad for many who know him in this riverside town, but truly surprising to only a few. Pessemier joined the city with the kind of stellar credentials – degrees in both engineering and economics – that, at the time, led to predictions by some that Independence would be only a steppingstone in his career. What seems to be astonishing about the resignation of Pessemier, a former interim city manager of Sherwood, is that he’s not leaving for another position. He’s leaving to start a new chapter of his life, in another part of the country. He and his family are moving to Tennessee, where his two oldest children are in college. Pessemier is regarded by some city officials as a lucky hire for the city – he arrived with an excellent background that would have made him a good catch almost anywhere. And he proved it over the course of his time as city manager, according to Mayor John McArdle. “I have really valued working with Tom during his three years as city manager," McArdle said. "He has embraced both the spirit and vision of Independence,” he stated. “He and the city staff have worked well together in supporting the city’s longterm goals and were especially creative in problem-solving during the pandemic.” In fact, Pessemier was seen as doing such an outstanding job that last winter the Independence City Council voted to double his previous annual salary raise of five percent to 10% – a hike he declined almost immediately and which subsequently was whittled down. There were reports that Pessemier was seeking better “work-life” balance. “Without doing this as a professional move, it’s certainly likely to be for personal reasons,” one observer commented. In a brief interview shortly after his announcement Friday, Pessemier appeared to confirm that opinion. Pulling up stakes to move from his current home outside Portland to the south’s gateway state represents the opportunity for a lifestyle change, he said. “I may take a year or two off,” he said. Home prices have appreciated highly in Oregon’s suburban cities, while property in other parts of the country haven’t escalated nearly as much, so it is a good time to sell a house, Pessemier affirmed. And, following a difficult period of coronavirus measures, he considers the city “in good shape,” he said. “This has just been a great staff to work with,” Pessemier added. “I am saddened by his departure,” said Independence City Councilor Kathy Martin-Willis. “I understand the difficulties in balancing work and family life, particularly with a position as demanding as city manager,” she said, adding that it was a privilege to work with Pessemier. “He will be sorely missed,” she said. As Pessemier begins the countdown weeks toward his exit, some who know him pointed out the challenges and successes that made his tenure so noteworthy during such a relatively short time with the city. He clarified the city’s financial picture. With a debt load that now exceeds $43 million and an average residential tax increase this year that reached three percent, Pessemier helped ensure that city finances were expressed more clearly on documents at city council meetings; Packets of information to the council members included easier-to-read text with sub-heads in memos, such as a “statement” of the problem at hand, a proposed solution and its “fiscal impact.” Pessemier also emphasized the need to explore more grant awards to reduce reliance on tax revenue. He increased attention to infrastructure demands. The need for enhancing water facilities was frequently mentioned by Pessemier and, at a recent meeting, representatives from Westech Engineering helped explain how and why the system needed improvement, including the addition of a new well near the city’s boat ramp. Additionally, the F Street Bridge, which had languished for years as a crossing point in sore need of upgrades, finally is getting them. He created learning opportunities for those in public office. When one city councilor failed to disclose a property rented to a developer seeking a city deal, public questions arose. Pessemier seemed responsive: A training session on best practices for elected officials was convened. More recently, he has invited city department managers periodically to city council meetings, to describe their duties, in an apparent effort to increase understanding of city operations. He was positive, but clear-eyed. Whether it was his ability to precisely define a problem, perhaps as the result of his engineering background, or the dollar-and-cents perspective from his economics training, Pessemier never expressed himself with the same prose sometimes used by certain city staff – descriptions that, at times, seemed confusing, such as calling events “community connectors.” Pessemier appeared to prefer a more dry, fact-based approach. For example, when one staffer seemed headed into a long, glowing narration, Pessemier cut him off, explaining that the meeting needed to move on. He skillfully juggled hard aspects of the pandemic. The city functioned well in perhaps its most challenging period of many decades. Zoom sessions commenced almost immediately. Much of the staff was quickly deployed remotely. New hours were posted clearly at the Independence Civic Center. City work and public meetings continued. Meanwhile, a transportation system plan, considered long overdue when Pessemier signed on as city manager, rolled to completion of the final draft. “Tom has done an admirable job during the pandemic – a challenge I wish on no one,” said Councilor Shannon Corr. His ability to address and implement the ever-changing mandates and guidance “is nothing short of commendable,” she said. “He has steered our community valiantly throughout,” Corr stressed. Corr noted that Pessemier joined the city about the same time she was sworn in as a city councilor. Since then, he’s shared his previous city management experiences with her “and I believe that’s helped me be a more effective councilor,” she said. “I’ve been most appreciative of his willingness to discuss with me issues we’ve disagreed on over the years,” Corr noted. “We still disagree on some things, but I’ve certainly learned a lot from those conversations.” A city manager’s role, which ranges from managing finances and personnel to overseeing the delivery of services such as safe drinking water, is considered to be one of the hardest in terms of stressors, according to the Alliance for Innovation, which tracks trends in local government. Also, there are increasing group-related divisions in city government, making local governance more political even in places that have nonpartisan elected offices, according to research from the University of Virginia and Vanderbilt University’s Center for Effective Lawmaking, which analyzed records of 132 city and county councils. Pessemier had to maneuver around this growing divide in Independence, where even the city councilors seemed sometimes to reflect party lines. Pessemier proved an able navigator, with several bona fide hits – though there was one obvious miss along the way, as well. Hit: Sidewalk Fix. When Pessemier arrived at the city, broken concrete was all that remained of sidewalks around what was once the Independence City Hall and is now the home of Parallel 45 Brewing. A previous developer had torn out the sidewalks, leaving piles of rubble. The project to restore them took place when a new developer was found and given the same deal as the prior one: a quarter million dollars to get the sidewalks fixed. Soon the walkways were covered in fresh cement, with small trees placed in wells. The area is now what one young adult in town has dubbed “beautified awesomely.” Miss: The Museum. For years, the Independence Heritage Museum was in a historic church at 3rd and B streets, but stairs made it inaccessible for any with mobility issues. When a building at the corner of 2nd and C streets became available, the city decided to relocate the museum there. Pessemier earned kudos for stating the purchase would be financed by the sale of two city-owned lots. When the lots were found to be restricted from resale, Pessemier then announced the city would borrow the money. The lack of public deliberation on the loan, and the nearly one million dollars it took to get the new site ready, remains a source of some public discord, even though the church was sold for more than a third of the new building’s cost. Hit: “Two-Job Tom.” When the former public works director left nearly a year ago, a search for his successor began. During those many months, Pessemier stepped into a dual role, serving as both the city manager and the public works director – with no uptick in pay. He’d had experience in public works earlier in his career, so he took on the extra burden and the city continued to attack infrastructure needs, from plugging up potholes on city streets to laying a pipe system to send recycled water to farmland north of town. Recently a new public works director, Gerald Fisher, joined the city. Pessemier finally hung up his public works hat. Hit: Fessing up. In the neighborhood known as “Sunset Meadows,” a linear park – a swath of land between two streets that stretches behind houses for a block – was the focus of several neighborhood meetings with a green-space consultant. Neighbors voted on their preference for park development: a paved nature path with play areas that included a small climbing boulder. The pavement was laid, but not much else. Residents expressed frustration with the lack of progress. During one city council meeting, Pessemier announced that the grass and path probably would remain that way for the foreseeable future, without the hoped-for additions. Several neighbors privately saluted his honesty. Mixed: Communication. Ask city councilors or members of the press about Pessemier’s turnaround time to emails and phone calls, and he gets positive reviews for fast replies. The same is not true for some members of the public, including several individuals who were initially impressed by Pessemier but then frustrated by unanswered phone calls or emails. “It’s been very disappointing,” said one. In contrast, Fire Chief Ben Strange, of Polk County Fire District No. 1 in Independence, called Pessemier highly responsive and “easy to work with.” Members of the Independence City Council also have been effusive in their praise of Pessemier. “I have really enjoyed working with Tom and I know he is going to be greatly missed,” said Councilor Sarah Jobe. “Tom has been such a huge blessing to Independence. His hard work and professionalism as the Independence city manager will be a tough act to follow. I am very sad to see him go,” Jobe said. “I greatly appreciate all he has done for the city of Independence and I wish him a bright future,” said Independence City Councilor Tom Takacs. Polk County Commissioner Lyle Mordhorst echoed that sentiment, but also sounded a hopeful note about the next few years, as well. "I wish Tom the best in whatever his new adventure may be,” Mordhorst said, but added, “and I am looking forward to creating another collaborative relationship with his successor." By Anne Scheck As a surge of covid continues, five people who fought the first wave of the coronavirus with hard work and helping hands look back on the year behind them, and share their plans for staying the course in the immediate future. CATHY TEAL, co-owner, Brew Coffee & Tap House Cathy Teal has been in the workforce since she was in middle school -- but she’s never worked harder than she did this past year, going without pay for months and rarely taking even a day off. She owns "Brew Coffee and Tap House" with her husband Mitch. The unique corner restaurant, which some have likened to the televised bar "Cheers" in the 1980s sitcom of the same name, is a gathering spot for visitors to downtown from morning till night. And, when the pandemic hit, Teal and her husband were determined to keep it that way. "Mitch and I worked seven days a week, but that wasn't the worst part," Teal recalled of the past year at the Main Street location across from Riverview Park. "It was keeping up with the (covid-related) changes, which happened so fast." "Brew & Tap," as it often is called by those in town, pivoted to outdoor seating on its patio, with tenting and a fire pit, when indoor dining was replaced by takeout only. "Customers were so loyal, and that helped, but there were still a lot of sleepless nights," Teal said. Her son, Collin, worked tirelessly behind the counter in Independence while she kept the books and helped at "Brew Coffee and Tap House West," a similar but larger place in West Salem. “Brew & Tap” also helps provide business for other downtown spots; the nearby "Naughty Noodle," for example, supplies many of the lunches and dinners served there, such as a popular signature dish, "Main Street Mac-and-Cheese." Teal has worked since she was a 12-year-old growing up in South Salem -- in a range of jobs from babysitting to berry-picking. So, hard work has been a way of life for her. Even so, exhaustion in the pandemic has been a constant battle, and it wasn't just the physical toll, Teal explained. When the coronavirus lockdown hit, Teal said she began applying "for every grant I could find," including some from Independence and Polk County. "I can tell you we learned even more about handling expenses," said Teal who, like her husband, has a business degree from Western Oregon University. Teal met Mitch as a teenager – his cousin was her best friend, so their paths crossed frequently. Since becoming a couple, they’ve always been a team, raising three children together and sharing all aspects of their business. They have been entrepreneurs almost all their married life, she noted. The City of Independence has been a help during this difficult time, Teal pointed out, by providing promotional opportunities, such as the widely used "scratch-off" coupons from CARES Act funds. The city-backed program enabled merchants to hand out scratch-off cards with hidden dollar values that could be redeemed by the customers at any local business, which were then reimbursed by the city. At the cozy corner establishment, "we want to maintain the experience for people," she said, adding that no matter how concerning the situation becomes, the couple want to provide an upbeat atmosphere. Service isn't just about pouring "a coffee or a beer," she stressed. "Really, they could get that anywhere," she said. Instead, she and Mitch have always strived to make their place a destination. "We like knowing our customers, we like having that relationship," Teal said. ANDREW PHILLIPS, funeral director, Farnstrom Mortuary Andrew Phillips has experienced the pandemic differently than most who live in Independence. As manager and funeral director of Farnstrom Mortuary, part of his job always has been to help families say goodbye to loved ones. But the pandemic made it far more difficult, he said. “I can't fix the pain, that’s not something we’re able to do," Phillips said. "But I can show I care." However, even that became harder in covid, he said. Staying apart due to social distancing and wearing face coverings seemed to keep people from what they often needed most -- human touch. "So much is conveyed through facial expression," he said, explaining that with a mask on, "even a smile is lost." In a small town like Independence, there's often a sense of shared community, which has been a help to him in assisting grieving families, he stressed. However, during the pandemic, he saw people deeply affected by the preventive measures of separation. “We all were supposed to be so focused on not catching the disease," he said. The impact of that "weighed on my heart," Phillips added. He began working in a funeral home in Salem years ago, eventually serving as an apprentice to a funeral director there. He was drawn to the profession by the potential for providing comfort to others at a time of loss. Phillips, whose parents are now deceased, spent a big part of his childhood in Mexico, where his parents worked. As a result, he's fluent in Spanish and he relishes the diversity of Independence. However, during the past year, he saw clashes among different groups he hadn't seen before. "This all got so politicized," he said. One underlying reason may have been due to the combination of loneliness, confusion and fear. "We are more than just our respiratory systems," he said. "We really need to look at psychological health, too," he stressed. Before the pandemic, he often hosted a "movie night" for friends at his house, but he had to shut it down. Then his own life became extremely constricted. "For me it was 'go to work, go home,' with an occasional quick trip to the store," he recalled. The way he connected with others, by way of computer screen, wasn't a good substitute, he said. "In fact, I came to absolutely despise Zoom," he added. Other approaches seemed to help him ease the situation: forming "pods," which allowed for safe engagement in activities, like Mexican dinners. Outdoor recreation was another outlet; Phillips is an avid rock climber. Additionally, he helps oversee the local "Next Door" network, which kept him in touch with people in the area, but "had its challenges, too," he said, adding that there was occasional friction that required some diplomatic skill. The coronavirus offered hard lessons, but not all of them were bad ones, Phillips pointed out. He saw neighbors in town relying on each other for "grocery runs," checking in with each other to see if all was well and trying to reach out to each other when emotional strains seemed to become burdensome. MARGARET WILSON, longtime community volunteer Neighbors considered Margaret Wilson the lovable ballast of her block, the kind of person who could be counted on do a favor for anyone within a huge radius of her own street, where her yard brightened the neighborhood with bountiful flowers. From spring through fall, she gave away many of those carefully cultivated blossoms, from daffodils to chrysanthemums. Today, some of those vibrant flowers are still blooming, but now Wilson herself is gone. Amid the pandemic, Wilson and her husband, Kelly, sold their house and returned to Wilson's home state of Ohio. For more than 15 years, Wilson was the kind of community member that anyone might predict would never leave: A faithful member of St. Patrick's Church, a loyal customer of the farmers' markets every Saturday, and such a frequent customer at Brew & Tap that the patio seating nearest the entrance was often referred to as "Margaret's table" by friends. When the first wave of covid hit and "personal protective equipment" proved hard to find, Wilson went to work making masks -- her sewing machine whirred night and day as she fashioned face coverings out of fabric in different colors and patterns. The finished products were dropped off on porches and hung on doorknobs, for use by people she knew all over town. Asked why she was moving away after so many years, Wilson said the recent period proved to be one in which she increasingly longed for family members. She told her husband, "I can't do this anymore," Wilson recalled one morning shortly before she started the cross-country drive to the buckeye state. During the coronavirus crisis, screen time with her extended family was no longer enough, and neither were periodic visits to the upper Midwest, where her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and brothers and sisters almost all live. "I kept thinking 'What if something happens to me? What is something happens to them?' " she said. "The distance is just too many miles." Friends found it hard to see her go. Nearly every time Wilson was seen on Main Street, honks, waves and shout-outs could be heard, and they seemed to intensify as her date of departure grew nearer. Now she is living in the suburban countryside, in a new town, with new neighbors. "I know it will be different," she said. "But it seemed the right time and, even though saying goodbye is hard, there was just so much waiting for me." LEE RADTKE, patriarch of Gilgamesh Brewing Lee Radtke, who spent months with his son Matt constructing the interior of the family's new restaurant. “Gilgamesh-The River” on South Main, was ready to open, right on target -- St. Patrick's Day last year. However, that very date suddenly became the first day of a state-wide lockdown for the emerging coronavirus pandemic. What do three sons and a dad do when opening day means a shutdown? "It was tough, it was miserable," Radtke recalled. "But we have learned to be pretty good about pulling a rabbit out of a hat." The family sprang into action behind closed doors. The large outdoor dining court, which can accommodate about 150, was covered in a mesh tenting that offered protection from rain but allowed air flow; the patio was fitted with natural gas heaters to help keep customers warm during cold snaps. Now the restaurant is capable of seating nearly 300 people from rooftop to interior. Radtke, who built his own home outside Salem from specially-harvested trees on his land 47 years ago, is accustomed to challenge. Originally, his profession was furniture construction, and he became part of the faculty at Chemeketa College for several years in the late 1990s after helping to build -- then serving as an instructor in -- a trade program where incarcerated men could learn woodworking skills. Married for nearly five decades to his wife Eileen, he credits her for understanding, early on, that their son Mike's interest in beer-brewing should be regarded as a skill rather than a cause for alarm. "She came home one day -- he was about 18 at the time -- and caught him making beer," he explained. Instead of calling a halt to the hobby, "she just kept an eye on it," he added. Eventually, with permission from the county, a small brewery was installed in the carpentry shop on the family's property, allowing his son to perfect techniques that resulted in what is now highly-regarded craft beer. Since 2009, he and his sons -- Matt, Nick and Mike -- have worked to build the Gilgamesh brand, opening three restaurants and a free-standing brewery. In Salem, “The Campus” was the first, with the brewery; The second, in West Salem, is called “The Woods.” The third location is "The River " in Independence. Very few of the steps toward business success came easily, so overcoming setbacks became routine, Radtke said, resulting in "a fairly optimistic family." All three of his sons departed for college, and all three started careers before finishing – then joined the family business. Mike, the brewer, provides for the production of the signature lager and ale, among others; Matt handles facility operations; Nick, who has a Portland-based profession, is a jack-of-all-trades, filling in whenever and wherever needed, Radtke said. The family decided very early on not to use their surname of Radtke in a title for their business. It seemed like a self-aggrandizing choice compared with an actual brand name, Radtke said. Gilgamesh, who was the subject of a classic epic still taught in some high schools, involves a heroic character believed to be based on the king of ancient Sumeria, where beer-brewing got its very first start. Radtke said everyone liked the idea of using this historical figure, whose reign coincided with the invention of the kind of beer-making that, with modifications in technology, is still in use today. TRISHA BUCK, administrator, Women of Independence-Monmouth Trisha Buck is the administrator of a special Facebook group that has helped women of all ages and interests stay connected during covid, “Women of Independence-Monmouth” (WIM). Buck organizes and monitors the online group of 1,500 members, which has had events ranging from riverside meetups to patio dinner parties. Buck’s personal favorite is the WIM Book Club, which grew so fast after it was formed that it recently was divided into two groups. After 18 months of pandemic measures, Buck summed up what WIM has been to participants: a steady and reliable source of help during a difficult and unprecedented time. “It’s a place of conversation and a format for sharing useful information,” she explained. For the period in which measures were implemented against the spread of the coronavirus, including social distancing, WIM has been a place for exchanging information and ideas. However, WIM’s value lies in receiving a continual stream of online questions, where users offer answers, often in the form of recommendations, according to Buck. Members have helped each other with offers of food, gift cards, clothes, shelter, rides, babysitting, yard work, cleaning and other assistance, she noted. WIM was begun in 2018 by a newcomer to Independence named Megan, who was having trouble meeting people, even in her own neighborhood, Buck recalled. “It occurred to her that she could take matters into her own hands and start a ‘women only’ Facebook group to meet women in town,” Buck explained. When she moved out of the area, “she passed it on to me because I organized many of the events,” Buck said. “We had also talked extensively on how to really help everyone get the most out of WIM, so she knew that I wouldn’t turn the group into something she wouldn’t want it to be,” Buck added. The founder’s intent was that WIM should be a place where “women can feel safe and be accepted,” and that’s Buck’s vision, too, she said. WIM has three basic rules: Be kind; Respond with kindness; And no sales of any kind. “As with any community, especially any online community, there are moments of discourse,” she noted. However, “for the most part ‘Wimmers’ are very good at keeping in mind that we are neighbors and that we live in this community together.” The group is managed in a way that allows members to “self-regulate,” Buck observed. This doesn’t mean that everyone agrees all the time, she stressed. However, WIM functions without name-calling and minus the challenging conversations that can result in “the typical Facebook hostility,” she said. How does Buck see WIM’s future? As a brighter version of the one now, Buck said, adding that her goals include even more gatherings. “I would like to get back to WIM being a place for coordinating events and having a good time, welcoming women into the group,” she said. When the pandemic finally subsides, she would like to see others create events, too, as the group returns to more in-person socializing, she said. RIVER CITY NEWS -- New Director of Heritage Museum Named Natascha Adams is the newly named director of the Heritage Museum in Independence. She's a longtime volunteer in the community and a member of the Independence Planning Commission. She has a masters degree in museum studies, and was chosen from a field of three qualified candidates. Adams lives in Independence and is the mother of a young daughter; The two of them worked together this year on the successful re-launch of a traditional Independence Days event, "Duck Derby." --AS An Analysis of the Independence Transportation System |
The Independent
A monthly newspaper of Independence, Oregon. Archives
November 2023
For earlier editions of the Independent not listed here, see the Trammart News Archives for PDF copies.
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