The Sunset Hill neighborhood is abuzz over notice of an application for liquor license posted at 6415 NW 32nd last Wednesday May 7. The name on the application is that of property owner Tom Bailiff on behalf of newly formed PICO Corporation. The permit calls for the proposed establishment, Pizzeria Picolinos, to offer full restaurant service, full liquor lounge, outdoor service and amplified live music.

The neighbors in the vicinity of the block at NW 32nd and 65th were well aware that changes were in store for the businesses, with the exception of a piano shop all other longtime businesses vacated last July and the buildings have been under renovation for the better part of the last nine months. Striking improvements have been made, particularly in the creation of a terraced outdoor patio with trellises and garden beds.

Members of the Sunset Hill Community Association recall that the property owner informed them of his intention to remodel the buildings to accommodate a "family friendly" restaurant that would likely serve beer and wine. Although the renovations to an outdoor area have been extremely visible, the intention to offer full liquor and amplified live music have surprised nearby residents stopping to read the orange notice of application since it was posted last week.

Neighbors also sent out email notices regarding the 10-day written public comment period, which ends on May 16. Written comments were to be sent to the Liquor Control Board in Olympia and copies to Ed McKenna at the Seattle City Attorney's office. Information earlier in the week included his phone number which led to follow-up email stating that the volume of phone calls was interfering with his work and comments needed to be in writing anyway.

I didn't want to assume that the volume of comments (referred to as a deluge) were all in opposition so I went to the block to talk to the neighbors. At the Sunset Hill Barber I joined others waiting in chairs for a haircut from Gene. He's been in that location for 27 years and said "this is the biggest change ever." His concerns have to do with the lack of parking for patrons, but he confirmed that his customers also consider it to be huge change in business type for a predominantly residential neighborhood.

Current businesses are the barber shop, The Scoop (coffee drinks and ice cream), Rain City Video and the Sunset Hill Green Market. There are a mix of apartment buildings and single family residences on NW 32nd, an apartment on the northwest corner of 32nd and 65th, and 4-plex on NW 65th, directly west and above the outside courtyard of the new business. West of the 4-plex and 32nd NW, the area is completely zoned for single family residential.

At Sunset Hill Green Market, owner Chuck was keeping an open mind despite the fact that his customers are decidedly opposed to the liquor license as it stands. Customers always ask for information about the project, over the course of the last year he has always told them what he knew, that it was intended to be a beer and wine, family-friendly restaurant. Many in the neighborhood were looking forward to an eatery, but the possible implications of an establishment with an adult only lounge and outdoor service has been a surprise all around. He said there have been 100's of comments from customers just since the notice was posted last week.

No doubt there are people who wouldn't oppose the permit, if not necessarily support it, but I haven't been able to find anyone yet. I'm sure they'll pipe up in anonymous comments unlike neighbors who live just above the outdoor courtyard or walk their dog and/or child by the storefronts every day who are very willing to put their opposition in writing and include their names and addresses.

Sometimes communities come together to try to save a favorite bar or restaurant, other times they unite in opposition. People who reside on Ballard Avenue or Market Street are aware of what type of businesses may locate below them, for the neighbors of a very residential area of Ballard, the specifics of the Pizzeria Picolinos liquor license application were unanticipated. A family friendly restaurant struck many as a plus for the neighborhood, outside service, amplified live music and full liquor doesn't appear to be sitting well with anyone at all.

When I spoke to Rita and Molly about their travels I was surprised to learn that no one took many photos, perhaps because their descriptions were so visual. But they recalled that one of their group had had the bus driver take their picture en masse before they left Kalaloch. An email was sent to the group looking for the photo and it was sent to me by Mary Watson (far right). I sent the photo along with column to the Ballard News-Tribune and I don't know why it didn't make it into the print or on-line version but I wanted to make sure that it could accompany the column.

The bus ladies in Kalaloch. Left to right. Winnie Becker, Rita Bresnahan, Molly Holmes, Ginnie Streichen, Marlene Buffington, Pat Byington, Janet Sorby, Carol Boyer, Pat Nelson, Mary Watson

Ballard News Tribune: Tuesday, May 06, 2008
At Large in Ballard by Peggy Sturdivant

Traveling gold

Rita and Molly are just two of 10 women who set out a few weeks ago to explore the Olympic Peninsula using only public transportation. Referring to themselves as "old ladies with backpacks" they used a collective spirit of problem-solving and resourcefulness to travel around the peninsula over the course of four days.

It just so happens that the average age of the women is their 70's, with a few in their 80's.

When Metro held a public information meeting in Ballard about bus service, Rita Bresnahan was one of the Seaview Avenue residents who attended by chartered bus to make a plea for increased bus service to Golden Gardens. Their passion seems to be paying off, a service increase for the No. 46 was just announced, but it wasn't available the morning that Rita was due to meet the others at the downtown ferry dock.

The hiking group that set out "to leave as little carbon footprint on the peninsula as possible" doesn't have a name or any one leader; just ambitious itineraries and a good sense of humor. The groups' origins date back decades in the Gig Harbor area, but the members have become more geographically far-flung as they've retired and relocated. I only had a chance to talk with two of the participants. Rita Bresnahan lives at Sunset West and Molly Holmes lives on Phinney Ridge.

Molly was part of a group that once traveled by bus to Lake Quinault and she'd always wanted to circle the whole peninsula by bus. She mentioned it and then was surprised, "everyone wanted to do it." Worried their group size might overload a county bus on the peninsula; Rita and Molly were completely serious when they volunteered to hitchhike for that leg.

The group took an average of nine to 11 buses over the course of their journey and spent less than $10 apiece on transportation. They sometimes rode for as little as 25-cents for an entire day; everyone qualified as a senior and many were carrying the Gold Card for Healthy Aging that is a veritable passport to the local venues.

Molly and several other members did most of the pre-planning, coordinating the bus schedules and booking hotels. Rita described the group of women as, "raucous at times." When the first met at the ferry terminal the group was very excited. "What's going on? What is this?" a ferry worker was the first, but not the last, to ask, during their four days. The group included retired teachers, a social worker and a nurse, many with more than just exploring on their itinerary. They also wanted to interact with people who live and work on the peninsula.

So the women sat with local riders on buses, learning about the best place to eat in a town, the unadvertised movie screening, other peoples' problems. In a soft voice, Molly spoke of talking to people who were amazingly open about their problems with drugs and alcohol. When one woman on a bus spoke of her drug addiction Molly asked, what kind of drugs. Heroin, she learned, and meth; many people make their own. "She was the one success story," Molly said, and then added. "Well, the woman digging clams on the beach had been sober for six months. I hope she makes it."

The two women were matter of fact about drug use on the peninsula, but only met one person who was visibly drunk. Molly sat next to the man while watching the gear during a layover in Port Angeles. They talked about his past attempts in rehab and how he wanted to try again. Eventually her group got on the warm bus and the man remained drinking in the cold.

"I was moved by how open people are about their struggles," Molly told me. "If we'd been in a car we wouldn't have met these people."

"I was touched by their honesty," Rita said, "It added such dimension."

Molly added. "My group contains no homeless people, no drug addicts. Every once in a while you need to step out of your comfort zone. Some days when it's very cold I'll ask myself, if I were homeless, where would I sleep tonight?"

There is no photo record of how the self-proclaimed old ladies in backpacks looked to outsiders as they descended laughing together in Forks or Aberdeen, just one photo taken by a bus driver of the collective group. "Pat had a camera," Molly recalled, "but she mostly took pictures at our cocktail parties."

"I have to say," Rita said, "these are probably the best happy hour folks I've ever known."

"One person usually has a big room or suite that we make the party room," Molly explained, looking prim with her snow white hair and bright blue vest. "There's always wine and snacks."

"Lots of laughter," Rita added, "and singing."

All around the peninsula the group found the bus system flawless. "About the best I've seen." Rita pronounced. "And the bus drivers were all so, so gracious, jovial, helpful ... " There was a pause and a look between them, "except that one in Poulsbo."

Between details of the bus trip they speak of past outings, some through the hiking group and others with a separate Greenlake walking group. Specific hikes are planned all the way through the summer; the Greenlake walkers also meet and use their Gold Cards for reduced admission all over the region. They are always planning their next expedition; one that is sure to be filled with more laughter and singing, as they blaze through the golden years with backpacks and public transportation.

Copyright 2008 by Ballard News Tribune. Used by permission.

Ron Olsen has been on my list of people to contact for months so I was saddened to see his obituary in today's PI.

It seemed particularly shocking because I had just spoken to his Scandinavian Hour radio partner last Friday. Doug Warne had left me a message in early April but then was out of town following his mother Dorothy's death at the age of 99. Ever one to promote connections between people he called me last week to tell me about a support group for Widows and Widowers (WICS) that he has found very helpful since his wife's death and felt could use some publicity.

This reminded to underline Ron Olsen's name on my want-to-interview list. Doug had told me when we met that he was but half of the Scandinavian Hour, and the story could not be complete without talking to Ron. Last December was their 47th Scandinavian Hour Christmas Special.

At the time we spoke last November, Doug told me that Ron was the one who had always had all the music. Doug did more of the writing and ad sales. Ron's ever growing Scandinavian music collection was always the cornerstone while Ron's wife Linda did the bookkeeping. We discussed the fact that neither of them had children interested in continuing the weekly radio program. A friend had warned, "you'd better have a plan for when you retire." But after Doug retired from teaching and Ron Olsen from his full-time engineering position as Director of Utilities for the City of Renton they found it was easier to produce the radio program. They weren't ready to retire from radio; just full-time work in addition.

"We know how to do it," Doug told me last fall. "It would be so hard to teach somebody else all the aspects."

I never got to meet Ron Olsen but pre-recorded programs of the Scandinavian Hour will continue on Saturday mornings (9 a.m. KNDD) for a few weeks; the end of a 48 year partnership that was still in its prime.

One day I thought I saw young nuns standing on the edge of the Ballard Commons skate bowl, a spring breeze whipping at their long gray skirts. I had to dig deep for the word, could they be novitiates looking deep into the bowl?

There they were again last week at the Ballard Library, side by side at the computers that offer up the library catalog. Heads covered in white and gray. When did it become so rare to see nuns?

Meanwhile at the skate bowl a pink stroller was parked a few feet back from the rim, with a pink wrapped baby inside the stroller. Once again I had to stop and wipe the rain drops from my glasses, and in this case wait to see if someone inside the skate bowl would prove to be more related to the baby than a skateboarder waiting his turn on the other side. A swoop out to the surface, a hat adjustment, yes...a definite approach of the stroller for a status check and then the man with the skateboard turned back to the rim.

Speaking of pink, looking south on 14th NW on Friday in the sunshine allowed me to see what the Visioning Committee wants others to see...a beautiful tree-lined boulevard; the cherry trees all in blossom at the same time.

Hummingbirds appeared and the Finback Mercedes that once belonged to Dorothy Stimson Bullitt left the street for the first time in eleven months. Rounding the corner on back of a flatbed on its way to auction, on the same day that Sunset Bowls' parts scattered across the state.




On the cul-de-sac where the house that was loved was razed last year, a default notice was posted on one of the two townhouses that took the place of the house. Purchased for $545,000, now in arrears at $979,366.05; the plans as explained to me by the developer's nephew don't seem to have worked out.

And just as I finally found a Thursday, the upcoming May Day, when I could try this new Skillet Street Food from a retrofitted Airstream, I learn that their Ballard location is no more. Just as once Fremont businesses allegedly took refuge in pre-hip Ballard, now Skillet Street Food has found a Thursday home in front of Sound Scooters on Canal Street, right along the Burke Gilman Trail.

We have the Burke Gilman too- and the new section was jamming on Saturday.

Watch out for novitiates and don't forget to engage the parking brake on the pink stroller.

The more that my neighbor thinks about what happened to her on the way to yoga last Saturday morning the more upset she becomes. Perhaps because when she was convinced to call the police's non-emergency line to report that a man had "flashed" her they didn't seem that interested, telling her there's nothing they can do unless she's calling at the time of the incident.

Even the word "flasher" seems too innocuous for the actions of the man who waited for her with his back turned on a sidewalk on a bright Saturday morning on an arterial street in a way that later struck her as deliberate and professional. Not a flash of his coat but a full-on exposure to his unclothed frontal area and the penis that he was stroking. She kept walking and didn't turn back to look for half a block. By then he'd vanished.

She told me about the incident when we crossed paths at an event that night. She felt the other women on the block should know, especially those of us with teenage daughters. But it was loud at the fundraiser and hard to talk. On Tuesday there was an article in the PI about a serial flasher in Sea-Tac (versus what they call the groper on Beacon Hill who has assaulted at least twenty women in the last two years). I decided to call her for the specifics the blog, in case anyone else has encountered this man; there won't be any other notification.

My neighbor was better able to joke about the flasher on Saturday night than she was on Tuesday. As she's continued to walk to yoga and around the neighborhood she's realized that she is looking at men differently and wondering if they are going to expose themselves to her. It makes her angry that she's looking at people differently.

She did call the police but was told that unless she'd called right away there wasn't anything they could do. (She was thinking, well you could write it down somewhere in case in turns out to match other descriptions).

The incident appeared random to her, in the shock of the moment at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, but now she thinks back, the man could have been in a car and seen the direction she was walking to position himself there. She tries to reason that she wasn't harmed; he didn't grab her, but as a parent of young children she is still shaken, and "freaked out."

She was walking east on NW 59th towards NW 24th. A man appeared about half a block ahead of her, as though he waiting for someone, but he had his back to her. She noticed that he was tall, well-dressed in slacks, nice jacket and a wool cap. When she was perhaps ten feet from him, he turned around to her and said, "Hi." She automatically responded and then realized there was too much white frontal, and that he was stroking his penis. She walked by quickly, considered calling the police, but he was already gone.

But now she wonders, was he waiting for just anyone, or had he positioned himself for her approach? She thought about whether it could be a prank but thinks he seemed to have it so planned, like something that he's definitely done before. She told me he was mid-twenties, decent looking. Caucasian.

She could have filed charges but what would that be like to do on Sunday or Monday when it happened on Saturday? If it happened again she would call the police in a heartbeat, but on Saturday, April 19th she was too surprised to react right away. On one hand, nothing happened, on the other hand she is 'pissed off' now because it makes her feel paranoid.

This isn't something I'd want to see on my way to cleanse my mind at yoga, and certainly not an incident I'd want my daughter to confront on her way to school. If this is happened to others in the neighborhood this isn't something that should go undocumented.

As you may have noticed I've been very taken with the reader board at Adams Elementary School lately. Last summer as part of outdoor improvements a panoramic scene was created with tiles on the pillar by the brightly lit reader board at the northwest corner of the Adams site. What has impressed me most is that I know more about what is happening in and around the school than I have in the last fifteen years of our co-existence. On the contrary, the reader board at Ballard Community Center is more static, holding onto one message for weeks at a time, and quite after the event. Consequently I don't check it as much.

Last week I met the woman who leads outdoor improvements and spearheaded the effort to build the mosaic pillar and reader board; Alison Krupnick. To my shock while returning home one evening last week, south on NW 28th, I automatically read the new message and saw a reference to Peggy S. The organizers of the Art of Learning Auction appreciated my blog mention and extended their thanks via the reader board. (I was embarrassed, but pleased, plus I knew the message would be changed very quickly). I've learned that Libby Peterson is responsible for the timely messages.

On Saturday I was walking north on NW 28th when the reader board once again caused me to react in shock - this time because it had been defaced. Earlier in the day, I'd seen that black spray paint had left markings on the "boat" that is part of the outdoor area at Ballard Community Center. Later that day I saw the pink letters scrawled on the BCC reader board, the Adams sign and both sides of the reader board. I got that really bad feeling, that hit in the stomach when you weren't expecting to be hit feeling.

Sebastian at the Ballard Community Center told me that they get "hit" at least once a weekend lately. They've placed a call to the City's graffiti hotline to clean up the boards but the boat is a different matter because it was donated, and must be specially cleaned because it is outdoor art versus just public property. He used the expression "graffiti artists." I think there are graffiti artists and then there are just plain taggers.

I've noticed more and more graffiti in Ballard lately and I'm doing some research. In the meantime, a message to the volunteers at Adams: I am indignant on your behalf. Property damage is more than damage to property; it's damage to people's work.

I ran into an old friend at the Ballard Library last week. She was store manager at Imagination Toys on Market Street until it closed. We started talking about banking and she told me that a few years ago there was a separate room for Merchant banking at the Bank of America. She said that it was one of the best places for merchant gossip in Ballard. An emphasis on customer service may have returned, but no more separate room for merchant banking (or dog treats). One thing still the same is Shorty.

From Ballard News Tribune: At Large in Ballard by Peggy Sturdivant.
April 15, 2008

Next In Line
For years my local checking account charged a fee if I used a live teller. I lived in irrational fear of incurring the teller fee. One time when my father was visiting I sent him to the Ballard Branch to make a deposit, repeating, "Do not go to a teller. They charge me a fee. Put it in the Instant Deposit box." Of course he didn't listen (and cost me $2). This man worked for the Federal Reserve Bank for 25 years; an economist who rarely balanced his check book.

My sister and I were raised on economic theory and grilled on banking practices. My father attended Career Day in second grade; all I remember is that he defined the word nebulous. The brain surgeon was much more popular. Unlike other children we didn't receive an allowance, but if my father was in a good mood on payday he would wave impeccably crisp $20's in the air while calling, "Who's been a good girl?" Even before Women's Studies in college I knew this would provide future psychological fodder.

When I first opened the account at then Seafirst Bank on Market Street I sat down with the manager herself. She was an older widow with immaculately sculpted hair and perfect nails. When she retired it was local news. Sitting down with her was so personal; it's strange to think that the account terms called for my virtual exile from inside the bank. How short-sighted it was to accept those terms for a decade.

In recent years, on behalf of my daughter and her savings account I've been able to return to the line and hand a deposit slip to a teller. Finally, inadvertently, I learned that I was no longer banished. Personal contact was back for free. It's pleasant to slip into the bank on a raw day, listen to the banter between regular customers and familiar tellers. But one day I was shocked to hear another customer say, "Bye, shorty" as he left the counter. The teller wasn't tall but to call her shorty! Then the small woman with grey hair and a grin waved to me and I read her nametag. It took me another six months to ask about her name, not wanting to be the hundredth person in a given week to say, "So what's Shorty short for?"

Last week Shorty waved me up while working the merchant window. "How are you today?" she asked, peering at me over her glasses. "Confused," I replied and pointed to the calendar on the wall with the wrong date. Isn't that a misdemeanor for a bank?

Shorty glanced back and shook her head. "I couldn't change that calendar if I stood on a ladder," she said.

"How tall are you?" I asked.

"Four-eleven," she said, very matter of fact.

"And your name has always been..."

"Shorty," she said with pride. "My dad called me that when I started walking at 12 months old. Called me Shorty and the nickname just stuck. I've never really answered to anything else. Even if people do try to call me by my given name they get it wrong. Call me Shirley or Carol."

"So your name is..."

"Cheryl Shorty Price Hope," she replied. "I had my middle name formally changed to Shorty. When I started working for the bank there were a couple of other Cheryl's. Everybody called me Shorty but the bank wouldn't allow that on the nametag. Plus," she handed me my receipt, "I couldn't cash checks because people would write them to Shorty and it didn't match my I.D."

"Was your family ... small?" I asked.

"All small," she said. "Except for my brother."

There was no one waiting for the merchant line or any other teller so I put my bag down and asked more questions. Shorty grew up in Eastern Washington and moved to Seattle when she started with Seafirst Bank about 20 years ago. She told me about an incident when she was waitressing and had to call the police. She described the suspect as "tall." The policeman questioned that someone 5'6" could be considered tall. Another time Shorty was in a downtown elevator with a basketball player; she doesn't know who he was, just that her head only reached his rib cage.

Shorty has worked at the Ballard Branch for 7 years. "Do people ask you about your name all day long?"

"All day long," she said. "But I don't mind. It's a good icebreaker. I used to have trouble talking with people." It's hard to believe. Shorty is one of the most personable bank tellers I've ever met, no airs about her, fingers that fly and real eye contact when she asks, "how are you today?"

As our lives become more electronic and virtual I've come to appreciate acts which still allow human contact. I like standing between a woman with blue hair and a two young men speaking Spanish while we fill out deposit slips. I like the tap of the teller's fingers on the 10 key and the crack of a coin wrapper as they open a new roll of quarters.

Shorty says why not to a photo, just pushes her glasses up first. We peer at the digital image together and decide the nametag isn't visible enough. "Here!" She grabs her traveling name placard and holds it proudly. "Do me a favor," she says, "If you write about this, bring me a copy so I can send it to my Dad."

Something clutched at my heart, because at a certain age we don't assume someone has living parents. At just 12 months she would have looked like a doll walking. I can imagine her dad saying "Well, look at Shorty." In Eastern Washington there's a father who's still proud of his daughter. I think about my dad and how long it took me to realize his waving the money was a way of showing he loved us; it was never really about the $20 bills, as crisp as they were.

Copyright by Ballard News Tribune 2008. Reprinted by permission.

The closure of the Sunset Bowl in Ballard is the front page story in the Seattle PI today. I haven't written much about this (and Jim Bristow's fight to save North Seattle bowling) because there were so many others better qualified. I always meant to go bowling there at 2 or 3 a.m. just to see what it was like in the middle of the night. For years the Sunset Bowl struck me as a giant bull's eye.

Now here's the thing. As of 11:30 a.m. there are at least fifty comments on the Soundoff following the Sunset Bowl story. Whenever I read Soundoff's I feel sullied afterward. Some people share some beautiful memories and then the comments usually degrade into nasty sniping between two extremes. In this case those who bemoan "another condo" versus those who say "quit whining about change." It's rare for other voices to emerge.

How about we try to find a way to plan for the future of our neighborhoods? Determine what needs to be part of our community, be it bowling or Webster Park? Now I've been making somewhat of a study on the topic of planning lately, wondering where was I when the Comprehensive Plan was approved (which first designated Ballard as an Urban Village)? Why didn't I know about the Neighborhood Plans when they were being shaped between 1996-1999?

What I've learned is that factors such as Washington's Growth Management Act, Department of Planning and Development goals, Neighborhood Plans and zoning that has been in place since the 70's have created the groundwork for so much change in Ballard. We didn't know in 1991 how certain policies would play out and lead to the proliferation of building cranes over such a compressed time period in 2007-2008.

Some of what's done is done, certain changes can be 1) fought and 2) improved. But let's talk about the future. Let's talk about what we want our neighborhood, our city, to look like in five years, in ten. I'm not saying that we can't cry over spilled milk, especially when spilled milk is more like the collective tears of 1,000's of Sunset Bowl regulars from the last four decades. What I'm saying is let's channel the anger into planning for the future before our city is completely unrecognizable to us and we really have lost all the places that made it special for us.

The City of Seattle is due to update the Neighborhood Plans. As part of the last Neighborhood Plan Ballard now has a new library and Ballard Commons Park, and hundreds of condominiums. How do we learn about what is happening in Ballard at a planning level? Every month the Ballard District Council meets on the second Wednesday of the month in the library conference room. In addition members of thirteen neighborhood districts meet monthly as part of the City Neighborhood Council. In the flow chart up to the City they are above the District Councils (therefore closer to the ears of City of Seattle and City Council).

Which brings us to an invitation to everyone is Seattle to attend a very important meeting at 8:30 a.m. on Saturday, April 19th at City Hall (Fifth and James downtown) to talk about updating the Neighborhood Plans with the highest level people involved (short of the Mayor). The invitation follows:

City Neighborhood Council

Neighborhood Planning Forum Saturday April 19th 8:30 am – noon

Bertha Knight Landes Room, City Hall
Why have Neighborhood Plans?
How and by Whom should a Neighborhood Plan be crafted?
What Can a Successful Neighborhood Plan help citizens accomplish?

Homeowners, renters, business owners all have a stake in the upcoming decisions on how the city will "update" the existing 38 neighborhood plans. Changes in neighborhood plans and policies are a precursor to land use and zoning changes as well as a way to identify and prioritize needed infrastructure improvements to accommodate growth.

The City Council is weighing a proposal from the Mayor to spread the updates over several years, group plans by geographic sector, and rely heavily on city staff for professional guidance.

The City Neighborhood Council has raised questions about this approach particularly the way it differs from the grassroots model used when the plans were prepared in the late 1990's.

Come and join in the conversation on Neighborhood Planning II and help the Council decide what to authorize and how to allocate those resources. Hear from and talk to:

· Richard Conlin, City Council President

· Sally Clark, City Council Planning, Land Use and Neighborhoods Chair

· Stella Chao, Department of Neighborhoods Director

· Jim Diers, author and consultant on neighborhood development

· Tom Hauger, Senior Planner with DPD

· Fellow citizen panelists with diverse experience in the successes and shortcomings of neighborhood planning and the current approach to dealing with the impacts of growth on neighborhoods citywide.

Sequential Plenary Sessions So You Don't Miss Any of the Topics!

PANEL 1: Why do Neighborhood Planning – GMA Compliance or More?

PANEL 2: How Should Planning Be Done and by Whom? – What are the models to keep citizens engaged and respected?

PANEL 3: What does Success Look Like? – Can planning improve our quality of life? Provide fair distribution of growth and public investment?

Light refreshments – Program Begins Promptly at 8:30am – Don't Be Late

Questions to: Chris Leman at cleman@oo.net and Irene Wall at iwall@serv.net

Why do Neighborhood Plans? The answer is all around us, because citizens who feel passionately enough to comment on-line should feel passionate enough to participate in the planning process. If it's for better or worse, why not try for better?

Last night the Ballard librarian Ellen Fitzgerald noticed that I was taking yet more photos of the artwork by Adams Elementary students that is on display before their live auction on April 19th. She asked if I'd be attending the live auction; she is planning to attend even though her daughter has graduated. "Do you think we have a chance of getting any of this art?" she asked, "bidding against the parents?" Clearly she has gotten attached to the art during its stay in the library. She pointed out her favorite to me and it was not even one that I had photographed yet, and one which I couldn't overcome the glare to capture.

At least I was able to share information with her about the live auction. On the way home I stopped in at the Ballard Community Center drawn in mostly by the sound of band practice. Where I spent time each summer there is a band that plays concerts on Sunday nights in a gazebo appropriately known as the bandstand. The quality has wavered over the years but it's in a strong phase right now. Very lively Sousa tunes. Somewhat inexplicably children and adults always run around the bandstand during every song except for the Star Spangled Banner. Sometimes it's more of a skip or a dance step but it seems to be genetically programmed.

I was in the school band for many years. First seat clarinet even though I was completely lacking in talent. The sound of band practicing, with the instruments in their appropriate seats, and effort of amateur musicians drew me to peer in the window, and even to think about taking my clarinet out of the closet.

In the front corner of the Community Center an exotic seat appears to be waiting until the silent auction to reveal its purpose. It looks like it may become a setting for photographs.

As mentioned before there will be hundreds of items for sale (buy it now or make a bid) at Saturday's Silent Auction. The child care is $10 per child through the Community Center although the auction is free. Between watching the Dalai Lama on Webcast at the library and trying to decide whether to take a bus to the Green Festival, I'll definitely be perusing the Silent Auction at the Community Center. Yes, it's a shame that schools need to raise funds this way, and an even greater shame that schools without the means to raise money this way suffer all the more program deficiencies. But many people have worked very hard to set up an event that primarily finances tutoring and outdoor education for students who might not otherwise have an opportunity, yes students right here in Ballard.

If I pass on one important tip this year, here it is. The Adams Elementary School Silent Auction is open to the public this Saturday April 12th at the Ballard Community Center from 1-4 p.m.

I live near Adams Elementary School and can't help but read the messages on their new reader board. I don't always get them right, such as when I first read Auction Season as Abduction Season, but I've gotten new glasses since then. I love reader boards...Limback's, D.A. Burns, the one at The Ballard Market that lists Pancake Breakfasts and the need for volunteers at the Ballard Food Bank. The LCD-type displays don't do nearly as much for me although I was entertained by the Walgreen's sign yesterday when their electronic message proclaimed "Easter 90% off!"

Mostly I like the letters to stay put but the messages to change frequently enough to let me know that there is somebody minding the store. When I saw the sign for Midsummer Night's Dream at the school, I wanted to attend. When I saw the sign change to read, "Silent Auction -Open to the public" I opined, "that's brilliant."

It's no secret that Seattle Public Schools do not have enough in their budgets to provide the programs they consider necessary. Most schools resort to one main fundraising event per year and that is usually an auction. Volunteers spend months working the community for donations and planning an elaborate event with the goal of raising enough money to 1) cover the cost of the event, and 2) raise serious money for school programs.

The flaw of most auctions is that they are marketing to a closed community, with the attendees usually comprised of the students' families and all those same hardworking volunteers. If a school is doing a good job of providing an education to a diverse student group then that includes families who cannot afford to bid on items at the auction. What's needed is more of the outside community - and that's where the brilliance of the upcoming Adams auction comes into play.

On Saturday, April 12th from 1-4 p.m. the general public is welcome to attend the silent auction portion of what is billed as "The Art of Learning" Auction for Adams at the Ballard Community Center located next door at 60th and 28th NW. This means anyone can go to the Community Center, register and write down a bid for one of about 280 items (in four sections). These are often items that you would use anyway, $50 at Fred Meyer's, admission to the Burke Museum, a gift certificate for The Secret Garden. In addition there are plenty of handmade and whimsical offerings. Details on the event and the full catalog is available on-line.

I called the Auction Co-Chair Carolyn Stalter and learned this is the first time they have opened the silent auction to the general public. They just hope the public shows up (evidently a concern between a big Little League and Seeds of Compassion at Qwest Field). Ballard Community Center is providing free child care (first come, first served) for parents who want to shop and there will be two different activities for kids, including Jay Dotson Photography creating photographic magnets and plates, mugs and trays. It's free; attendees can pre-register or simply register on Saturday. Quick pay allows people to leave a credit card, write bids and then leave. There will also be raffles.

The second part of the auction (the live one) will be on Saturday, April 19th ($25 admission which includes dinner) at Leif Erickson Hall. The dinner will be catered by Nell's Restaurant of Greenlake: the owner is a parent. On that evening more unique items will be auctioned in a competitive bid process. Which gets me to the next part of what's brilliant about the upcoming auction. The student artwork. Have you noticed the art that's on display right now at the Ballard Library? It is a preview of the art that was made in the classrooms at Adams. Amazing.

Meanwhile on the website I found that the most intriguing items were practically hidden under listing of "outdoors." Many classrooms made really wild patio umbrellas - The Spring Has Sprung umbrella made me laugh out loud.

When I raved about the artwork at the library Carolyn Stalter said simply, "We're pretty proud of it." She is the parent of a third grader student and an incoming kindergartner. She learned very fast that her background in non-profits made her a natural to work on the auction. Work on the auction started in October and at this point it's a full-time job for most of the committees.

The goal is to raise $70,000 over the course of the next two Saturdays; with approximately $8,000 needed to cover the auction costs. Adams needs $30,000 for its tutor program each year which gets additional adults into the classrooms. In addition they need funds for after school programs and to send 5th graders to Islandwood as part of outdoor education. Then there is the need for the supplies that are crucial to a school that features arts integration in every class. Not to mention the big plans they have for improving the playground and for which they have applied to the city for a Neighborhood Matching Fund.

One night I walked past the school and the cafeteria was bright with lights and people. Thanks to the reader board I knew what they were doing inside the room; adults and children were making origami cranes to present 1,000 cranes to third grade teacher Mr. Skillings. He is the teacher seriously injured in an attack at a bus stop on Capitol Hill. His attack and the long recovery that he faces due to brain injury has touched every student at Adams, and most of Ballard judging from many overheard conversations.

Far more than 1,000 cranes were folded and so two mobiles will be available at the silent auction on Saturday and a third at the live auction on April 19th. All proceeds from the origami will go directly to the fund established by the Skillings family to help fund Mr. Skilling's physical therapy.

When I moved to this street Adams Elementary was just about to be demolished and re-built. I have been here since it rose brand new, and through the tenure of several principals. Schools have their glory times, their periods when the combination of principals, teachers, families and community involvement adds up into a mixture that is, well, brilliant.
I am looking forward to supporting the school on Saturday because they are contributing so much art and education to the community.

Silent Auction 1-4 p.m. on April 12th at Ballard Community Center - for everyone.

It was bitterly cold the day that I was walking around Ballard before "spring break." Although I stayed on the outside of peoples' lives, I didn't necessarily stay on the outside of buildings. I had to go into Kitchen n'Things and Annie's Affordable Art just to warm up my hands. As I approached the corner of NW 24th & 59th I realized I'd left home without my camera. I'm a pushover for firefighters and could see the ladder truck from the Ballard Fire Station usurping the bus stop by Java Bean and wondered if the crew were inside getting their coffee fix. But no, they were making some purchases in Dan's Smoke Shop.

Have I told you the story yet of what the firefighters were doing at the station house when we had a mild mid-day earthquake in June 1998?

A man parked in front of Besalu and used his camera phone to snap a picture of the bumper sticker on the car in front of his. It was the first time I'd seen the black & white message; but it wouldn't be last time that day.

"Ballard Welcomes Our New Condo Overlords."

Later that day when I went to see Carrie's new studio there was another parked car with the same bumper sticker. Where are they selling these? I'm guessing it's not the NOMA sales office.

From At Large in Ballard in the Ballard News Tribune: Tuesday, April 08, 2008

On the Outside
I've been known to claim that I can't leave my house without encountering what I consider a story. That's just a claim, the truth is that sometimes we have our eyes open to the outside world, other times we're so caught up in our "to do" list that we barely notice our surroundings. Knowing that I was going to be out of town I allowed myself a morning walking around Ballard, with my public eyes open. But it was one of those of days when I stayed on the outside, only imagining the lives on the other sides of the businesses.

I started at the Women's Imaging Center at Ballard Swedish for a mammogram. I wanted to pretend that everyone else checking in was also there for routine screening but there was something about the way that a young German woman's husband was resting his hand on her arm that worried me. It was as if he needed the comfort of her strength. In one of my other roles I facilitate a Writing Workshop at Cancer Lifeline's Greenlake Center. Almost all of the participants are women and almost all of them have had breast cancer. But it is never what defines them; not even part of their introductions. However it is one thing to write with women who hope that cancer remains firmly part of their past and another to be in a waiting room with women who are being fit into the schedule because of a suspicious mass.

Leaving Women's Imaging and the rest of the German woman's story unfinished I indulged myself by taking the elevator to the fifth floor - to the outer doors of the Ballard Family Childbirth Center. That's where I reported shortly after midnight on the first day of spring back in 1991, vying with two other women for hastily cleaned birthing suites. My husband had had a painful bone marrow biopsy earlier in the day so he took the bed until fleeing to the waiting room around the corner from the elevators to get some rest. I don't dare poke my head into the Childbirth Center because of security concerns anymore but over the years I've learned that the waiting room is still accessible. There has always been a thick photo album on the table with newborn shots of babies. I used to be able to find the Polaroid of my daughter, swaddled in tightest burrito fashion, her eyes open as usual. No photo album this time. It had to happen someday along with the new paint and carpet. After all it has been seventeen years.

I stand in the little room on the fifth floor with a love seat and two chairs and realize that its window lines up with the window of the northwest-most birthing room of the hospital's circular tower. We could have relayed information by signaling through the windows. It's not that I miss the man so much after fourteen years but I still miss having the other parent who would meet my eyes while we both watched our daughter growing up, and growing away from us.

I left the hospital thinking about the earlier days of Ballard when citizens could set out to raise money and buy land to site a hospital. How amazing that those "Knuckle Knockers" were able to raise some $1.5 million to start Ballard's hospital. These days it seems to take about five, six years of fundraising, planning, environmental studies and volunteer efforts to build a park on 10,000 square feet of unused land. It seems miraculous that anything manages to get built with public funds, especially those raised penny by penny.

The mocha from Dean's Espresso Express in the cafeterias started to awaken even more senses as I walked along Market Street. I watched people walking to work with their first coffees or waiting for a business to open. I wondered about each of their stories. What brought them to Ballard? What do clothes really tell us about a person, what do signs really tell us about a business? The Ballard Blossom door had a poster for a multicultural event on Queen Anne. The Intiman Theater's staging of the "The Diary of Anne Frank" was posted in the window of the Don Willis Furniture Store and a full-size movie poster for "The Other Boleyn Girl" was obscuring anything else in the storefront of Ballard Hair Salon.

Alone in the still-locked Ballard Hair Salon a woman was leaning her body toward the salon mirror, rolling her hair into individual curlers. Is she the woman who matches rescued pets with owners or collects clothing donations? Why the movie poster, is she a fan of historical fiction or Natalie Portman? How many life stories does she hear each day?

Looking into businesses from the outside I wished that I dared to go in to say, "Tell me your story." I would want to ask the barista who knows my name at Nervous Nellie's, the serious looking pastry chef at Cafe Besalu, the hard-working Elena at Super Cuts. "Tell me your story," I wanted to say, but instead I kept walking along Market Street, trying to peer into other worlds from the sidewalk outside. Even when others share a few of their stories with us, we can never really know the secrets of their lives.

Copyright 2008 by Ballard News Tribune. Reprinted by permission.

It's official. Carrie Gustafson is back in business with a new teaching space for her youth and adult classes in the spring, and taking registrations for the summer clay camps for children. I visited her new space last week wrote about it for this week's Ballard News Tribune column.

It has been quite a mental and physical journey but when all is said and done she has landed twenty blocks from her original studio and is just a block away from where Jacquie is now seeing hair salon clients at Marcela's on NW 80th.

The space is comparatively huge and has allowed Carrie to think through how she would like to have supples organized rather than making do.

From At Large in Ballard in the Ballard News Tribune: April 1, 2008

Carrie dreams big

Nina Porter moved to Ballard from Norway in 1995 and always enjoyed working with clay. Once settled she looked for a pottery studio where she could take classes or use the studio. The closest one she found was in Fremont. Later as a parent and director of Little Feats Preschool at Philadelphia Church she didn't have time to seek a pottery studio. She hadn't looked since before Carrie Gustafson opened Lily and the People Pottery Studio on Sunset Hill. She never knew about the studio just 20 blocks from the preschool until Carrie phoned Philadelphia Church as part of her relentless search for a new teaching studio space in Ballard.

Ever since Carrie Gustafson had to leave her studio and teaching space on Sunset Hill last summer I've fielded questions whether she had found a new space. As of Monday, April 7 Carrie will indeed be back in business: the doors open that day for youth and adult classes in the basement of Philadelphia Church's youth center, in part because the lives of Nina Porter and Carrie Gustafson converged.

For years my daughter thought the horizontal J-E-S-U-S S-A-V-E-S sign on the Philadelphia Church at 77th and 24th Northwest meant that it was a bank. I've passed the evangelical church for years and know little about them, other than noticing signage for Bible School and hearing there was new pastor who wanted to increase interaction with the community.

Last summer Carrie left her longtime location and farmed out her equipment for safekeeping, from cupboards stored in a locker at Fisherman's Pier to a gas kiln in Sultan. (One of her wheels and a kiln are currently in my basement). Meanwhile she created a small studio in the basement of her rental house and searched for viable studio space. She followed every possible lead, called every organization in her quest for a "concrete floor kind of space." She began calling churches and found a good listener when Amy Turnbull answered the phone at Philadelphia Church, just a block from where she grew up and in turn raised her own family.

"I have to find a place for the children," is what Carrie told anyone who would listen, meaning her kids' clay camps. After speaking with Amy she heard from the director of Little Feats Preschool run by Philadelphia Church. When Nina Porter heard what Carrie needed she told her, I think I have the place, let me show it to you. The church's youth center was across street with a basement that wasn't being used. Nina recalls, "When she came in, it was like she was walking into her own vision." As for the Nina's vision for the Preschool, "it was the kind of real art program that I've wanted to be able to offer for 12 years."

Carrie told me a few months ago that she was on the verge of "something big" but couldn't talk about it yet. It was worth waiting for - the new space is definitely "something big." Over the course of 17 days Carrie's family and friends transformed a dark carpeted basement cluttered with well-meaning donations into a spacious, organized pottery studio with many more features than Carrie had in her former space. As enthusiastic as ever, Carrie showed off a precious second table for wedging, a separate room for supplies, new drying racks, a cloakroom, two bathrooms, an office, a huge work area and what will become the showroom. The scattered equipment is making its way home to Carrie, wheels coming home to roost again. There's an outside courtyard where the kids in clay camp can play; Carrie already pictures future plantings and shows me where the gas kiln will lodge once it returns from Sultan and is hoisted back into place by crane.

Churches have a long history of housing community programs; Lily and the People Pottery School, like the Preschool, will be run independently. "Most of our students aren't even part of the church," the director told me. She has already enrolled her own 11 year-old in one of the eight clay camps that will be run on a weekly basis starting on June 30.

With mere days left before the start of youth and adult classes, Carrie finished the tour by saying, "I wish I didn't even have to charge for classes. It's so important for people to have art in their lives." Since she started teaching hundreds and hundreds of children and adults have taken her classes; younger students often maturing to assist in clay camps as volunteers. "April 7th," Carrie said, running her hands over the added table, "there's no reason I won't be in operation then, unless there aren't students."

The new location has come about so quickly she's working to catch up with the flyers, the web site, email announcements. Later on she'll have a grand opening but first she just wants "to teach - and see people again." Carrie has always dreamed big when it comes to art and community, claiming, "Miracles have come true for me before." A person who actually draws energy from teaching, Carrie wants adults and children to join "my journey with clay."

Meanwhile her new neighbor Nina Porter can't wait for Carrie's doors to officially open, though it's still hard to believe their paths didn't cross earlier. "I am so excited about her being here," Nina told me, "She has so much care for other people and what she has to offer is right in line what we've been trying to provide over the years - activities that gather families."

Carrie's web site is at www.lilyandthepeople.com. The new Lily and the People Teaching Studio is located at 7701 NW 24th, 784-4168. Schedules are available on-line for classes starting on April 8 and clay camps starting June 30.

Copyright 2008 by Ballard News Tribune. Reprinted by permission.

On Wednesday, April 2nd from 4-7 p.m. the Ballard News-Tribune is having an Open House in their office on the 2nd floor of the Ballard Building (2208 NW Market, #202). You're encourage to bring non-perishable food items for donation to the Ballard Food Bank.

The invite says,

"Join us in a celebration of our community and its members. Meet BNT reporters, editors and staff. Come say hello to your neighbors and local business owners."

I heard about it by invitation myself, since I don't really fall into the category of reporter, editor or staff. I would definitely attend if I wasn't going going to be out of town (unless American Airlines cancels our flight again.)

If you've never been to their office, it's worth a visit. The second floor doesn't seem like a real floor - it is more akin to one and a half. Think of the film "Being John Malkovich."

I really hate to miss it.

How did so many people know about turning the lights out for an hour on March 29th when as a whole we seem oblivious to most current events? I learned when I logged onto the computer this morning but would have forgotten but if not for my mother. She probably used some extra kilowatts clearing her emails and making all the phone calls that she wouldn't be able to make between 8-9 p.m.

Before the appointed hour I was alone in the house, working in just one room. I hadn't ventured out of the room to turn on any lights after dusk anyway. Even the heat had gone off so it occurred to me to heat the house first, turn off the dryer my daughter had started and take the Vermont cast iron candlestick that was a wedding present off of the refrigerator.

It was wonderful to turn off the computer. I'm going to be away next week and so I've been trying to finish no less than five writing assignments while battling the flu. I'm hoping the slight fever adds a certain pizazz to my technical projects. My daughter had deserted my ugly Kleenex-hugging self, jumping into a car with a friend and his much healthier mom. They were going to light a fire. "I'm so glad there'll be a fireplace where I spend the hour," my daughter said in her most animated statement of the entire day.

I made a salad by candlelight and realized that it is never very dark in my house, especially not when the clouds reflect the streetlights. My solar light looked particularly bright in front of the house as I peered up and down the street, wondering about other participants. The block looked no darker than usual.

The cat approached the candelabra once it was on the coffee table as though she had never encountered flame before. I wondered if she would be so foolish as to singe her whiskers by sticking her nose in the flames. Surely cats have natural fear of fire, don't they?

I went upstairs to look out my bay window. I like to look down at the backs of the houses on the next block and then beyond to downtown Ballard, the Ballard Bridge, the flank of Phinney Ridge and the twinkling mounds of Queen Anne and Magnolia. Earlier today I watched a raincloud blot out the downtown and move towards Ballard until rain began to lash on my upstairs windows. Ballard looked no different, no darker. Cars were moving across the bridge, TVs flickering, porch lights shone between dark houses. But I had no way of knowing if the houses would be dark anyway.

It was the gift of an hour in which to think. No music, no phone. I felt guilty when I opened the refrigerator door and its bright bulb led me to a bag of carrots. When I was only six or seven we lived in Vermont during the famous blackout of the Northeast grid. (See Doris Day movie entitled "Where Were You When the Lights Went Out?). I think back of blackouts with such fondness, even the three days without power after the Inaugural Day storm of 1992. Remember that one? Trees down and power outages all over the city. On 61st we were without power for three days (everyone assumed someone else had called) while over on 60th the neighbors were in the hot tub with jets. I was not about to drag out the camping gear and cook once I learned that the old Yankee Diner was still roasting turkeys.

Nearing the end of the hour I went back up to the bay window, sipped my cooled mint tea and watched to see if the lights would come back on in dark houses. 9:05, 9:10...no change. Maybe no one was home anyway, or perhaps they were watching my house for a sign instead. The phone didn't ring, the candles were still burning but I was ready to reconnect with the world. So here I am in just the light of three candles and my laptop, wondering did Ballard participate in the Earth Hour? Are we losing our ability to be alone without electronics? Did Ballard go dark? Or only me?

I've been writing the At Large column in the Ballard News Tribune for over a year now but this is the first piece that I've wanted to try to confiscate and hide. It's not the content or even the column...it's the caption under the picture of the dog. Duke outweighs columnist by 50 pounds. I suppose that's better than a caption that flaunts that I outweigh a mastiff.

I send Jack Mayne, the BNT editor, the column on Friday or Saturday, along with an optional photo. Last week I was torn between sending the picture of the man or the dog. I had a friend who works in publication help me choose. We were tempted by the photo of the man looking most like his dog, but it wasn't flattering (to the man). There were some photos of the dog in silhouette but they didn't capture a certain character (in the dog). So I sent both photos to Jack to let him choose, writing a capture for neither. Learned my lesson - good thing I'd fudged on my weight anyway. Jack also ran a photo of Ed (he has been in business longer than 38 years - that's just how many years he's been on Ballard Avenue).

By the way, I will definitely be eating at Bad Albert's in the near future. I checked their menu on-line and it looks great. I want to try their Kittycakes for breakfast. I wonder what Duke likes to eat there? How does he manage to keep his weight down?

From At Large in Ballard, Ballard News Tribune: Tuesday, March 25, 2008

A trophy life

I wanted to learn more about Broomfield's Marine Exhaust on Ballard Avenue even before owner Ed Broomfield contacted me. Two years ago I watched Broomfield's Little League team win their division and was struck by the straightforward industrial name. So when Ed contacted me on a day that I was thinking about them, it was quite a coincidence. On paper there's no reason my path would cross with that of Ed Broomfield. I don't own a boat, am allergic to cigarette smoke, favor gun control, am afraid of dogs (particularly ones that outweigh me by 50 pounds) and have never had 1) a son in Little League Baseball, or 2) a son.

Yet one afternoon I found myself stepping over sheets of metal and a 175-pound brindle bull mastiff to perch between Ed Broomfield and his office manager, Lisa, in the narrow space just off the machine shop. Ed proceeded to interview me, asking about my interests, my writing, whether I prefer cats or dogs. All the while Duke the bull mastiff took up a third of the floor space and contributed interesting odors to an office that smelled strongly of cigarettes, although Ed's pack of Marlboro Light 100's stayed untouched by his side.

"I notice that you write about local businesses sometimes," Ed had e-mailed me, "and thought you might be interested in one that's been in Ballard for 38 years."

The business is at the southern end of Ballard Avenue, adjoining Bad Albert's Tap & Grill, and is comprised of a machine shop and office. Three welders were working on the other side of the wall. Every surface was covered in papers or shop drawings; the only free surface was the broad back of the dog. Framed clippings, reference books on metallurgy - all were within reach. A two foot high Little League Trophy was prominently shelved with smaller trophies; Broomfield's name was engraved on the big trophy no less than eight times.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist a business that had been in Ballard so long," Ed said to me as a form of greeting. He quickly realized I wasn't sure when he was kidding and when he wasn't and pressed that advantage throughout our visit. Ed also realized, "It's kind of hard to talk about myself." I learned that he's 75 years old and jokes frequently about his aging. He raised five children after his wife's death, has survived three heart attacks and still works 60-80 hours per week in the Ballard Avenue location. He also claims that Lisa, his longtime office manager, "keeps him out of jail."

"What kind of trouble would you get in without her?" I asked. He lowered his gravelly voice somewhat and said, "That's just my way of saying she does a really good job and keeps this place running." Throughout the conversation he calls out to Lisa to fill in a name or a detail, as orchestrated together as a surgical team.

My knowledge of diesel exhaust is nil but I learned that Broomfield's Marine Exhaust is one of only two local machine shops specializing in marine welding with "a very good name in the diesel exhaust business." Big names in the marine industry such as Kvichak and Trident Seafoods rely on them. Ed claims they're an "itty-bitty business" but admits that a shortage in space and qualified welders forces them to turn away quite a bit of work. While we talked a man carrying metal pipes knocked on the outer door needing the pipes 'drilled out.' Ed sent the man next door to a less specialized machine shop. "You've done good work for me in the past," the man said in parting.

Ed shut the door.

"I've got him fooled," he said and laughed. He believes that if you don't find a way to treat life with levity then things like three heart attacks will kill you.

In addition to running the business for the last four decades, Ed also taught law enforcement workshops for over 20 years and still goes to the range "to shoot all the time" even though the dog is afraid of the noise. In the upper right hand corner of Broomfield's marketing materials there's a photo of Duke. Ed explains that he's had three dogs but always replaces them with another brindle Mastiff so that most clients don't know the difference. Duke doesn't like to walk through the shop because of the fabrication noise. But he's a Ballard Avenue fixture, like Ed.

Ed has had offers to move the business but wouldn't want to be anywhere other than Ballard. "People are really nice in Ballard." He reads the Seattle Post-Intelligencer but thinks the Ballard News-Tribune is better, "because it's where I am." He didn't mind the first wave of condominiums but now he's had enough of them, mostly because the parking situation is getting worse and worse for his employees and clients.

It's clear that why he really spends 60-80 hours at the shop is because he loves it there. Bad Albert's next door is his lunchroom. "That guy is a real chef. His penne with the alfredo is really something." Ballard Avenue is his front porch; the shop is his home and the office his cozy den, with people dropping by all day long.

"It's not that easy talking about myself," Ed said again. He cocked his head towards the shop, "but our work speaks for itself."

Copyright 2008 by Ballard News Tribune. Reprinted by permission.