Full Military Honors

On Monday we attended a Catholic Mass for Thomas Cameron, a 24 year-old Coast Guard helicopter pilot and graduate of the U.S. Coast Guard Academy, killed last week in a night training mission over Mobile Bay, Alabama. He was the co-pilot when the plane went down. His family, parents Bette and John, brother, Alex and Thomas lived right across the street and two houses over from us in Eastmoreland. The celebration of his life included a U.S. Coast Guard Honor Guard, many Coast Guardsmen and women from Pensacola, Florida, where Thomas trained and from Portland, most wearing their pilot wings. Thomas had recently received his posting to Puerto Rico as a pilot. This day he would be buried with full military honors.

Besides the military brass and Cleveland high school soccer buddies, family and friends, the neighborhood turned out, too, for the service of perhaps a thousand honoring the young man who always said he wanted to help people. It was a hopeful gathering - if such a loss can be considered hopeful - for the great impact on, and good influence Thomas was, to so many.

A visit like non other

We sprinted to a weekend finish with Peter and Shannon in town, enjoying traditional tea in the tea house at the Chinese Garden before their train home to Seattle left the station.

Earlier in the weekend we rode the tram from South Waterfront to OHSU, taking in the view from the top and touring the historic photos in the hospital lobby. "Cacao", a brilliant new chocolate and brewed cocoa shop, was a fun stop downtown. Saturday night they saw their first Roller Derby bout at the Hangar in Oaks Park where the Breakneck Betties prevailed in a big way over the Heartless Heathers. Top scorer, number 20, SoulFearic Acid, is a kindergarten teacher in her day job!

Peter and Shannon made the Academy Awards more than fun for us with running commentary, balloting on winning films, actors and even obscure sound editing categories and later pizza delivered by Kurt, hosted by Shannon.

Sign of the Times

I was sorry to hear Olympia Snowe, the moderate Republican Senator from Maine, announce her retirement from the Senate recently. For 33 years in both houses of Congress, her voice was the voice of reason. Now, she said, what has been lost is "the art of legislating." Where compromise once was possible when your view didn't prevail, it's now impossible to negotiate. She will not seek election in November, but said she would still work for change outside the gridlocked system.

We're Valentines

We went to ClarkLewis a few days after February 14 for a dressed up dinner. Kurt had sturgeon; I had pork loin. The restaurant is in a former warehouse with exposed heating ducts, noisy bar in a SE industrial area. To prove it, we had to wait for a freight train to cross the tracks on our way here. Fun evening thanks to "The Boys" Gordie, Adam, Michael, Doug, et al at Vista, our investment guys.

We couldn't decide - on Valentine's Day proper, we went for a long hike through the Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge. That's why I look so windblown at Papa Haydyn's later for lunch. Papa's is known for its desserts. If you can get by this display case without ordering something elegant, you deserve congrats!

Thanks for Volunteering

An uncommon number of callers at OPB say just that when pledging their support with dollars in call-ins to the station, "Thanks for volunteering".

More than the thanks you get when bagging onions at the Oregon Food Bank. Twelve of us from AAUW and a couple dozen fifth-graders from Duniway School along with several parent helpers packed 10,000# of yellow onions one recent morning there. We had a nice tour of the handsome, giant facility and heard the startling statistic that in one of five homes someone goes to bed hungry every night. The Oregon Food Bank does a terrific job! They don't give volunteers any onions.

Me and the DMV

A horsey and a doggie

We signed up for a couple of Saturday drawing classes with the Cowgirl At Heart art studio. Sharon Stevenson, the artist, used to raise quarter horses and now does "this," she said. But her heart is with the horses.

Kurt - the guy who has taken mechanical drawing - did quite well. I could identify with Charlie Brown who said he only saw a horsey or maybe a doggie in the cloud formations.

There's just some-thing about going to the DMV that intimi-dates. I needed to get my driver's license renewed, but I grabbed a copy of the Oregon Drivers' Manual from the lobby just in case. What if they asked me to identify those obscure road signs, to know how close is too close or when to yield at a crossing.

Turns out I only had to take a vision test and give a crooked smile for a new laminated picture.

Almost a juror

On Monday I rolled out of bed at 5 a.m. walked to the bus stop at 6:30 and was going thru security at the county courthouse at seven a.m. for jury duty. By eight a judge was speaking to over a hundred of us in the sprawling jury room about the responsibilities and importance of our service to the courts, and how grateful they were for our showing up.

I'd just settled into the boredom of the comfy leather chair, the flat-screen tv CNN broadcast and a latte from the lobby, when I and about 35 others were called up to a small courtroom on the seventh floor. The human interest stories were all there. The voir dere to choose six jurors in a criminal trial lasted until 4:30 in the afternoon. The judge ( and later the attorneys) explained that a guilty verdict can only be reached with a finding of guilty "without a reasonable doubt," the highest standard.

We first heard hardship cases from prospective jurors who felt they couldn't give up the four days the judge had told us the trial might last. These ranged from a young woman with an hourly retail day job who was also a night school student to a busy real estate agent with his own business. There was the sole care-giver to a parent recovering from surgery and the Nike designer who was leading an all-day meeting for which people were scheduled to fly in. The judge said she would take these and several others under advisement.

After a one and one-half hour lunch break the ranks had thinned, and we were once again impaneled for questioning. The three defendants who had been arrested in a bar fight, each with his own attorney, were seated in front of us. The charges ranged from disorderly conduct to battery and assault. So the questions included those about our own experience with going to bars and/or crimes having been committed against us. Crimes were mostly property and petty theft. The oddest might have been the woman who had her car stolen, and when she and her husband got it back only the radio was missing. And the thief: their baby-sitter. When one prospective juror described himself as fair and a good friend, fun but with a "quick temper" that no one wanted to mess with, two of the defendants traded knowing looks. Sure enough, this blowhard was chosen for the jury.

Hey, no hard feelings. The experience was intriguing and I would serve again.

Where's that wind-up radio when you need it?

On Wednesday evening it was snowing hard when we went to bed - making all the dire 24-7 tv weather predictions come true.

What must have been the only tree that fell that night in Portland was right out our window. The large oak was uprooted and fell on the power lines in the slushy, windy, wet storm. A nighttime city maintenance crew spent hours restoring our electricity which was out for about five hours. This singular event attracted television crews and cameras all day Thursday to film the tree removal. Luckily, we didn't need any of those survival items we've so carefully stashed away - like the wind-up radio.