Changes

We have been in the Everett area for a week and a half and each day has been sunny and perfect, not like it used to be in summer.  But now, high seventies to low eighties with a light, cool breeze. This could be a cyclical weather pattern or the result of global warming. All we know is that when we were kids here it was overcast most of the time and Seattle’s reputation for drizzly rain was well-deserved and kept people from moving here. That, apparently, is all over.  We spent our first summer in Everett in 1955 playing in the drizzle, blowing up slugs with firecrackers. There was no freeway to Seattle. (There’ve been some changes made). The freeway, completed in 1961 in time for the Seattle World’s Fair, is now jammed no matter how many lanes they add, and it takes more time than you want to go anywhere. Across the Everett Jetty there is something new as well—kite surfers. Late in the afternoon an offshore breeze creates perfect conditions for this sail surfing sport and through binoculars we can see the sailors go airborne as they make their turns to race back and forth across the narrow sandbar. Swing the binoculars to the left and the massive aircraft carrier USS Lincoln sits at its multimillion dollar dock near where I had a college summer job working for the Office of Civil Defense. OCD was something like Homeland Security although it involved fall out shelters and preparedness. We didn’t inspect luggage. Just encouraged folks to maintain a supply of food and water in the event of nuclear attack. Lincoln, armed with nukes, waits for the Preznit to call her forth to battle once again. She’s had lots of work lately. Fortunately, so far, none of it nuclear.
Next door, in my mother’s bucolic neighborhood we are wondering if the people are on meth. Lots of comings and goings involving many different folks most of whom look kind of strung out. The neighborhood is aghast and ringing the mayor’s phone off the hook. We are expecting the swat team any minute. 1955=beer. 2005=crystal meth. That’s a change.
Out in Mulketeo, Taylor’s Landing is now an Ivars; the old Seahorse Restaurant is replaced as well. Big, grand new homes are going up just a few feet from the boulevard. The hillside is already covered. At the top of the hill Boeing is changing from bust back to boom.
Downtown Everett is actually pretty. A surprising change. No one had ever accused Everett of being pretty. We were known for the pulp mill odor that greeted all travelers. Now, magnificent flower baskets are everywhere and sculpture, as in “art”, abounds.
The Everett Herald just released its compilation of the Top 50 athletes in Snohomish County History. None of my classmates were on the list, a gross omission when you consider Jim Lambright was left off. All-Coast defensive end. Husky coach. Who would have thought he’d be forgotten already? Maybe I’ll see him at our 45th reunion later this month. We’ll talk about changes...if we recognize each other.
Lot’s of changes and one has to try and keep up. Nothing stays the same. I have resorted to a pulsing magnetic blanket. http://www.quantronmedicine.com/products/qrs_101.htm  
We need all the help we can get when we’re old and gray.  I’m feeling some changes. I think it might be working.

    For there's a change in the weather
    There's a change in the sea
    So from now on there'll be a change in me
    My walk will be diff'rent my talk and my name
    Nothin' about me is goin' to be the same,
    I'm goin' to change my way of livin' if that ain't enough,   
    Then I'll change the way that I strut my stuff,
    ‘cause nobody wants you when you're old and gray
    Ther'll be some change made.
        There’ll Be Some Changes Made, lyrics by Benny Goodman

Comments

[dave andersen]

My ancestors came to Everett in the 1890's when it was largely a stump town.
Everett, named for the son of Mr. Colby of Lowell, MA,
made a Faustian bargain with the logging and paper mills: You give us jobs and we'll let you despoil one of the greatest natural waterfront towns and harbors in America. I remember going fishing with my dad and brothers in the 50's when the boat left a sick looking yellow wake, the effluent from Scott paper company, We played on the piers and caught strange looking bullheads with 3 eyes. Everett may be reclaiming itself, but I will never forgive the first Everettites who let this beautiful town site be ravaged like some 3rd world backwater, let all the money be sent back east while their children played games in the detrius and waste left behind. It all started with a "deal" made in St Paul, Minn. late in the 19th century. Frederick Weyerhauser and James J. Hill shook hands and then both of them took a big dump, not even figuratively speaking, on my home town.