I remember the first time I ever drank coffee from a French press.  It was ten years ago, and I was working at the OSU Food Innovation Center.  I had traveled to Seattle for a conference at the Westin, and was staying at a delightful B&B near Pike Place Market called Pensione Nichols.  There were amazing European duvets on the bed, which the owner acquired herself while traveling abroad.  The common room faced the Puget Sound and the windows overlooked the market, with window seats where one could linger with a cup of coffee in the morning and watch Seattle wake up.

The breakfast portion of bed and breakfast consisted of orange and banana slices, freshly made scones, accompanied by jams and marmalades, and a French press of coffee.  She placed it on my table, and said, “Wait until you’ve finished your fruit and then slowly press down on this plunger,” indicating the long prong-like device protruding from the glass carafe.  As the carafe was glass, I could watch the color of the coffee change as it steeped in the hot water.  Finally, I pressed the plunger, amazed at the resistance, and poured the coffee into my waiting mug.  I smelled, then sipped, and my eyes flew open.  Now THIS was coffee!  The flavor was so smooth and rich and deep, it required no sugar or cream to enjoy.  I sat up straight in my chair, buttered my scone with my pinky out, and suddenly felt very sophisticated and grown up.

That was the beginning of my love affair with coffee and my entrance into the coffee culture.  Fast forward five years, and I was managing a Starbucks in Gresham.  However one may feel about Starbucks, if offered me a tremendous opportunity to learn about every aspect of coffee—from preparation to production, buying and roasting, single-origin and fair trade.  I worked very hard to become a Coffee Master, and I still own my black apron.  My palate changed as I tasted more and more coffee, and soon I could distinguish the subtle flavors of earth, water, air and sunshine.

I no longer work at Starbucks, and now prefer an even higher quality bean.  I love places like Barista in the Pearl District, where you can buy coffee beans from several different roasters, and have them prepared exactly to your liking by people who care as much about coffee as you do.  As I write this morning, I’m drinking a French press of Guatemalan coffee that I purchased when I visited the Filadelphia Coffee Estate in Guatemala.  Every coffee lover should have the opportunity to see how coffee is grown, harvested, and processed at the source.  Just like my first French press, it is a magical experience I shall never forget, and one I remember each time I drink a great cup of coffee.

What will you remember about drinking coffee in Portland?

Related Posts

• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)
• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• April 10, 2009 -- Hey, Portland? Let’s talk over lunch… (1)

2010 marks an auspicious moment in my life–I have officially been a Portlander for 30 years.  Learning about Portland is somewhat of an obsession for me, and has hit a new height recently, when I was hired as a Travel Advisor for Travel Oregon.  I work at the Oregon Welcome Center at Portland International Airport, and spend my time there helping people with any and every question they ask me.  For someone who loves Portland as much as I do, there is nothing better than to have someone ask you, “Tell me what is unique about Portland.”

As a Travel Advisor, it is part of my job to direct people to places that are not only uniquely Portland, but easily accessible via mass transit, and simple to locate.  I spend a lot of time talking about Powell’s, Mills End Park, the International Rose Test Garden and Japanese Gardens, and VooDoo Doughnuts.  Sometimes people ask about museums or art galleries, and occasionally I’ll get a unique request, such as the best place to fish near downtown Portland (I directed him to Sauvie Island).

But only rarely do I get a traveler who has the time and interest to listen to the things I love about Portland, and when they do, it is the best part of my day.  I have so many diverse interests, that my favorite places span many neighborhoods and cross all types of people.  I love eating at Clyde Common and Kenny & Zuke’s Delicatessen, or getting Bhan Mi at the Food Cart pod on 10th & Alder.  I also love the Food Cart pod at 12th & Hawthorne, which is great when you have late night munchies; poutine at Potato Champion and fried pie at Whiffies.  Tin Shed Garden Cafe on Alberta & 14th is an old favorite, and definitely the funky kind of place that makes Portland so unique.

When I need to sit and work on the computer or read, I go to the library at McMenamins Edgefield, or Sacred Grounds Coffee Shop on 97th & Sandy Blvd, or New Deal Cafe on NE Halsey & 52nd.  Portland is a haven for coffee lovers, and there are too many places I love to name them all, but I’m drawn to places with the friendliest people, like Palio Dessert House in Ladd’s Addition.

No one enjoys a sunny day like a Portlander.  When we get weather like we have had recently, everyone begins scurrying to get outside and enjoy it.  I went to Home Depot to get some supplies for the raised garden I’m building, and it was a hive of activity.  I love the off-leash area at Normandale Park; there is plenty of room for my small bichon frise Puka to run around and tire herself out, and plenty of dog-loving Portlanders with whom to talk.  A short drive up to the top of Rocky Butte is always a favorite; I never get tired of that beautiful panoramic view.  And I’m always willing to stroll through the park blocks, where the scenery always changes, and I’m especially excited for the Portland Farmer’s Market to begin again on March 20.  When I’ve had a rough day, I love to get a cup of coffee and drive along Marine Drive, pulling over to watch the planes take off and land, and keeping an eye out for herons.

Although my friends call me “Queen of Portland”, I am the first to admit that there will always be things I need to learn about my city.  My goal for 2010 is to individually research each neighborhood in Portland, including its history, unique shops and restaurants, parks and community spaces, and any other identifying characteristics.  I started with Montavilla, and have nearly completed Sellwood, both of which I will recap soon.  One of my favorite things is to explore places I’ve never been; I recently visited Cacao for some spicy drinking chocolate.

My request to all of you is this:  What would you do to celebrate 30 years in Portland?

Related Posts

• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• July 21, 2009 -- Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? (1)
• March 1, 2010 -- Portland and Unicorns (5)
• February 4, 2010 -- Winter Olympics in the NW (3)
• January 13, 2010 -- The Writing Was on the Wall (2)

In case you have been living in a small cave for the past few years, the 2010 Winter Olympics, hosted in Vancouver, British Columbia (that’s in Canada!) begin Friday, February 12. Though I don’t follow professional sports, I have always been a huge fan of the Olympics in general, and the Winter Olympics in particular. I even took figure skating lessons when I was young, though being a 5’8”, 135 pound 12 year old effectively ended any dreams I had of Olympic glory.

With Portland’s proximity to Vancouver, BC, it is only natural that Olympics fever should begin to infect the city. At Portland International Airport, Alaska Airlines employees sported stick-on soul patches, in honor of local Olympian Apollo Anton Ohno’s signature facial hair.

To celebrate the Opening Ceremonies, Oregon Sports Authority and KGW are hosting a free public viewing event at Pioneer Courthouse Square on Friday, February 12. There will be two giant LCD screens, and they will show local Olympic programming beginning at 5pm. The official NBC broadcast of the Vancouver 2010 Opening Ceremony begins at 9pm. The event also includes interviews with Oregon Olympians, warm drinks and a hockey goal-scoring challenge. What a perfect way to celebrate the Opening Ceremonies with fellow Olympics-loving Portlanders.

In conjunction with this event, you can also visit Winter Celebration at the Square for your chance to win a trip for two to the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics, including men’s cross-country skiing and the Closing Ceremonies! Entries must be submitted by February 11, 2010, so enter soon!

(Editor’s Note: Travel Geek is another brand-new author here at OurPDX. Please welcome her!)

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• July 28, 2008 -- LIVE! from Pioneer Courthouse Square (2)
• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)
• January 20, 2010 -- Fitness Role Models? How’d *That* Happen…? (3)
• January 13, 2010 -- The Writing Was on the Wall (2)

I’m going to follow the lead of my (soon to be) great new friend Zanger!

On January 6th, I woke up and had a stark realization.

I’ve been unemployed for 16 months?

Then I went to lunch with a former colleague. Now I am employed! I’m going to step back a bit and return to recruiting. It’s been the foundation of what I have been doing for almost 20 years. Wow, another stark realization! But it has been what I’ve liked best about the past 20 years.

I’ve been navigating my employed life over the last several years with two ideas — philosophies if you will. Both quotes that I have imprinted in my brain with no recollection of who said them in order to give credit where credit is due. (If it’s you, let me know…)

“I have a job, but I am not my job.”

“It’s not your fault you have a crappy job, but it is your fault if you keep that crappy job.”

That last one stopped me and my former co-worker and dear friend Colette, dead in our tracks in 2003. Think about that for just a second or two. Ah, 2003 … dot … com …bombs. No more candy bars delivered to the office (thank you, Kozmo.com!) No lackey picking up my dry cleaning. No Agency.com. No 800.com, I’ll have to buy those electronics someplace else? No more Reach and Frequency from Elvis & Bonaparte? No more Chrome Data (well some form of that is around), or Emerald Solutions. No more CyberSight or NineDots. It was that dot com thing that started running words together — wasn’t it?

The day one of the principals of an agency who was a client of mine called to ask for a meeting, I thought here we go! The pendulum is swinging in the other direction. Yeah … no. He came in and asked if I could help him find a job. So I did. That was strike three. He was the third principal of a client in as many months that came to me asking for help finding work. Someone who normally would ask me to find them talent.

WALL … WRITING.

For some this might sound extreme. In my world, I think not so much. Hey! It is my world! Of the nine jobs that I have had in Portland, eight of them I got through my network. The one job that I applied to and got on my own was five months in the bowels of hell with the spawn of (insert reverb echo here) SATAN.

In all fairness one was a stopgap job in retail. And one was my own infamous grueling two-week dot.com adventure. Where I made more money in those two weeks than that 90-day retail job. The new job, #10, is with a former colleague.

Wait, does my alarm clock still work? I’ve been telling my friends for a few months now, that I’m going to have to find work, cause I just can’t afford to be this happy. But there seemed to be no work? And I think going online and applying to jobs is such a waste of time. This from a recruiter, someone who has for years helped others in finding work, getting work and keeping work at some of the coolest places in Portland.

So all of that history leads to this: in Portland (maybe anywhere for that matter) you are better off getting a job through your network than applying via those, yes I’m going to say it, annoying crutches they call applicant tracking systems. Yes I understand, sometimes you have so many people applying to a job that you need help sorting it. But I am on a journey to prove that if you are a proactive and engaged recruiter (answer your phone, return calls and reply to email), you will not need to sort through hundreds of resumes.

Better yet, you will not have to post a job ever again!

So I’m now shifting to focus on IT recruiting, and I’ll admit there will be ramp up time. I know where the best footwear and bag designers are, so I will have some re-acquainting and networking to do. But I challenge you to doubt that within the year my network will have expanded. I will be a force — and I will only need LinkedIn and my address book to fill open positions.

Portland is a small town. No matter how many people move here when the unemployment number rises! It will remain small and you should make it your personal mission to network yourself into your dream job with your dream company without applying online. There is a networking group for everything. And if you don’t find one that fits you, create one!

I say it can be done. But you go ahead and grumble how busy you are and how tired you are, that you’re slammed. And complain that your company just doesn’t give you the resources to do the job. Which is probably true. From my experience those who say they are “slammed” and so busy, are slammed and busy saying they are busy and slammed. You will never catch up or get your stride this way. You have to dig in deep to level off.

So there, I said it. Now beat me up. I’m ready. I also promise you that in a year, if I have not been able to do this. I will say you were right … maybe.

(jgx is another new author at OurPDX. Please welcome her!)

Related Posts

• May 5, 2009 -- Meeting People Can Be Easier (4)
• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)
• February 4, 2010 -- Winter Olympics in the NW (3)
• January 12, 2010 -- Another Bet Lost: Nuts (2)

Being half Italian, I seem to have this gene that precludes me from not making wagers.

Seahawks in the Super Bowl this year? Sure, I’ll take that.

Partly cloudy and 43 degrees? Yeah, I’ll take that one too.

As you can guess, I don’t win very much. But, when I do make these little forays into competitive guessing, I like to add a bit of what I’ll just go ahead and call a “mayoral” or “gubernatorial” twist.

See, when two cities are in a championship game, the mayors and/or governors get in to the act. They’ll often wager something symbolic or representative of the city or state. You can imagine what happens when Wisconsin is in a championship game. Or, even worse, Philly or New Jersey. (My family is from there — I’m allowed to take shots)

So it came to be that I got into a wager on the Blazers/Cavs game with a weather guy from Charlotte, North Carolina who happened to have grown up near Akron, the home of one LeBron James. No, there would be no money — there would be Oregon bounty if I lost. His item, had the Blazers won, would have been BBQ sauce. I suppose it was either that or something NASCAR-ish. Despite their best efforts, the Blazers came up short against King LeBron. (By the way, is Anderson Varejao the new Bill Laimbeer? What a whiner.)

I lost.

But I also won.

Because this week, I’m heading over to my favorite local place for walnuts and hazelnuts, Loughridge Farms. A mere few miles away from me, out Scholls Ferry Road way, are some of the best walnuts and hazelnuts I have ever eaten. And the people who run the farm are incredibly cool and nice. I’m looking forward to sending a few pounds off to my Twitter pal in Charlotte. Because then, he’ll get a taste of Oregon and what real walnuts and hazelnuts are all about.

And that’s a bet I’m happy to lose every time.

Related Posts

• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)
• February 4, 2010 -- Winter Olympics in the NW (3)
• January 13, 2010 -- The Writing Was on the Wall (2)
• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)

(Consider this my introduction.)

Yesterday, I woke up and had a stark realization.

I’ve been here for 17 years.

On January 5, 1992, I drove a beat-up Chevette (is there any other kind?) into Portland from Denver. I remember it well. I actually screamed out loud when I saw the “Entering Portland” sign on I-84. I had no plan — had no idea what I was going to do but, dammit, I knew that Portland was the place for me and I was excited.

My first week here included: Tavern and Pool, Pub At The End Of The Universe (twice), The Hotcake House (at what time, I really don’t recall), Forest Park, Mount Tabor and constant hanging out on Hawthorne, where I was living at the time. The first job started a couple of weeks later. Come on, I was 22 years old and too busy having fun.

So, here we are 17 years after falling madly, deeply in love with Portland.

I now have a family and so many incredible friends here. To say it has been a blur would be an understatement. To say it has been sublime would be one as well. It’s sweet to wake up every morning and know that I live in a place where possibility is encouraged — where taking chances is appreciated. This is where you can stub your toe, maybe trip a little and have an army of people help you pick you up and shepherd you on to the next thing you believe in. The communal, entrepreneurial spirit here is unlike anything I’ve seen.

And we need it now more than ever.

As I write here, you’ll find that I’m a bit of an optimist and I think that 2010 will be something special for all of us in Portland. There are some days when it’s hard to believe — but I can feel it.

And I’m certain that I’ll wake up next year on my 18th anniversary here with just as big a smile on my face.

(Editor’s note: We’re happy to welcome Zanger to OurPDX. Happy anniversary!)

Related Posts

• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• April 10, 2009 -- Hey, Portland? Let’s talk over lunch… (1)
• October 10, 2008 -- You’re living in your own private Writaho (8)

Last night Eva and I tried something new: Curling at Lloyd Center with the Evergreen Curling Club. Now, I’m not referring to hair, but rather to 42 pound stones on ice. Curling is a “sport” that came out of Scotland. It involves sliding heavy stones down the ice and hitting other heavy stones. Oh, yes, it also involves running on the ice just in front of said heavy stones, and sweeping the ice in an attempt to influence where the stone will go.

I will admit that Curling is an Olympic sport, and perhaps, as such, deserves more credit than I’m giving it. On the other hand, going off a cliff on skis is also an Olympic sport — so I’m not sure how good a measure that is.

My point, however, is that Curling is a sport that comes to us mainly via Canada, a country known primarily for its politeness. As such, at the end of each game, everyone on both teams shakes each others’ hands and says “nice curling.”

Admittedly, this is a very good sportsman-like way to play, but feels a little odd in Portland. It’s not that Portland isn’t a friendly city, because it is. Rather, its friendliness tends to be a bit more spontaneous, less ritualized. The personalized greeting rather than the predetermined one. We like to talk to each other, to greet one another. But somehow, it feels false when imposed upon us. To me, anyway…

My favorite example of Portland friendliness is the conversations I have in the checkout line of the supermarket. On the East Coast, these conversations just don’t happen. Here, they are an accepted part of life.

What’s your favorite example of Portland friendliness?

(Editor’s Note: Please welcome Rabbi David to the OurPDX author roster, and stay tuned for more new author posts in the days to come! Betsy)

Related Posts

• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• April 10, 2009 -- Hey, Portland? Let’s talk over lunch… (1)
• October 10, 2008 -- You’re living in your own private Writaho (8)

Washington Square has long reigned as Oregon’s premier shopping center. It says so right on their website — and who am I to argue with that? So it would only stand to reason that Oregon’s premier shopping center would also have Oregon’s premier shopping center Santa, right?

I know someone who would agree with that statement: Washington Square Santa himself. The man does not lack for self-confidence.

Washington Square Santa is all about status. Many shopping mall Santas reside in a small fenced-off area with the standard-issue green wingback chair strategically placed in front of a brightly decorated tree. The luckier Santas also get a fireplace. Washington Square Santa lives at Santa’s Lodge.

His lodge is brightly colored and looks like it was designed by the same people who brought you Hallmark Gold Crown stores. And while he too has the green wingback chair, his chair has gold trim at the bottom of it. Nothing says “I’ve made it!” like gold trim. If you are not impressed by Santa’s tricked out lodge, sitting next to Santa is a bottomless treasure chest full of candy canes. And off to the side sits his scepter adorned with red and white ribbons.

Between visits, Santa sits in his gold-trimmed lodge chair and tweaks his curly-tipped imperial mustache. Santa casually waves at onlookers and poses for photos taken by his adoring fans. Unlike the Lloyd Center Santa, this Santa is not protected by copyright laws.

Santa loves to have his picture taken and can be seen art directing his photo elves between takes. I’m sure he is able to feign some interest in what it is that you want for Christmas, but it would probably be best if you Eddie Haskell-ed up your request a little. For example, if you want a red bicycle for Christmas, it might not hurt to mention that you have never seen a red as spectacular as Santa’s suit.

I don’t mean to suggest that Washington Square Santa is a bad Santa. I suspect that if you are looking for the best Santa photo for your scrapbook, he is the guy you want to see. After all, you didn’t spend five hours scrubbing your kids down and struggling to dress them in their velvet finery to have their picture taken with a hillbilly slob. It’s a little disappointing to take your kids to the mall to visit Santa and find this guy:

(Sorry Salem Centre Santa, but seriously – what ARE you wearing?)

Coming up next: Pioneer Place Santa
Previous Santas: Lloyd Center Santa & Clackamas Town Center Santa

Related Posts

• December 24, 2009 -- Behind the Beard – Bridgeport Village Santa (7)
• December 21, 2009 -- Behind the Beard – Pioneer Place Santa (2)
• December 7, 2009 -- Portland Shopping Mall Santas – A Comparative Study (0)
• December 23, 2009 -- Behind the Beard – Portland Macy’s Downtown Santa (2)
• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)

I did not believe in Santa when I was a little girl. For some inexplicable reason, my parents told my brothers and me that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. We did not hang our stockings by the chimney with care. We did not write letters to or leave cookies for the Jolly Fat Man. I looked upon my misguided schoolmates with pity as they spent the months of November and December trying ever-so-hard to make the Nice List. I can remember very clearly telling my friend Dianna that her mom and dad had been pretending to be Santa all these years. We were sitting on the story-time carpet of our 1st grade classroom and the poor girl burst into tears. She was so upset that she had to leave school early that day.

I know better now. Santa is real. I actually met the real Santa a few years ago while driving around looking at Christmas lights with my parents. We had just been by the Governor’s mansion in Salem and were heading back into town when we spotted Santa in the Dunkin’ Donuts on South Commercial. This required some further investigation — so we turned into the parking lot to get a closer look just as Santa was putting for four big boxes of doughnuts into his sleigh. You can’t fool Santa. He knew we were watching him and he came over to our car and gave us each a small candy cane and wished us a Merry Christmas! Let me tell you — this Santa erased any doubt I may have had in regards to his existence. He had a beautiful red velvet suit adorned with jewels and jingle bells, a real beard of snowy white. When he laughed his belly shook like a bowl full of jelly and his eyes twinkled knowingly. He was the embodiment of Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards Men. Even my non-believing parents were in awe.

See? If this man is not the real deal, I don’t know who is.

The days before Christmas are very busy for Santa. He is up at the North Pole supervising a bunch of unruly toy-making elves which I can’t imagine is very easy or fun. I’m sure he’d rather be out and about with the masses, spreading holiday cheer – but he is just not able to be everywhere at once. So Santa employs a small army of doppelgangers to be all of the places Santa would be if he could be. He saves the most jolly and bright for the most important job of all – the Shopping Mall Santa.

That being said, all Shopping Mall Santas are not created equally. In fact, the quality can vary quite dramatically which I find a little bit fascinating. So, as public service to you and as a way to satisfy my own curiosity — I’ve decided to visit all the local Shopping Mall Santas and document my findings.

First up – Clackamas Town Center Santa

Here is a photo of their Santaland:

It’s pretty big, actually. At the entrance there is one of those fun house mirrors which may seem like a good idea but if you are trying to primp a little before being immortalized for time and eternity with Santa, this mirror is of absolutely no use. But the space itself is pretty wide open and not at all claustrophobia inducing, which is helpful for those of us who don’t queue well.

Santa sits in a big green chair in front of a big green tree which does not make for a lot of visual interest. There is no contrast. If it were me, I would want my photo taken in front of the faux fireplace. It’s just cozier. You will have to check with Santa’s photo elves to see if this is possible. You may have to ask twice if you know what I mean.

Santa himself is very kind and welcoming but he seems a little shy. He is not a chatty Santa. He may or may not ask you what you want for Christmas. For those little ones who are also shy, this might be a bit of a blessing. Santa is not going to get all up in your business by asking a lot personal questions. He already knows anyway, so why rub it in?

Here is a picture of a little baby posing with Santa. (Note to self: People find it a little creepy when complete strangers take photos of their children posing with Santa. Work on being more inconspicuous.)

Once your visit with Santa is over, you are handed a pair of paper elf ears that sit upon your head like a Burger King crown. This is a nice touch but absolutely not a substitute for a candy cane. You may want to bring a candy cane from home.

All in all, Clackamas Town Center is not a bad Santa experience by any means. If you are crunched for time and this is the nearest Santa, you will not be disappointed. But if you are looking for something magical — you can do better.

And Mrs. Santa might want to add some OxyClean to Santa’s suit next time she does laundry. I’m just saying.

Coming up next? Lloyd Center Santa… stay tuned.

Related Posts

• December 17, 2009 -- Behind the Beard – Washington Square Santa (4)
• December 3, 2008 -- Attention Holiday Shoppers (0)
• September 22, 2008 -- Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas…. (8)
• March 20, 2010 -- Falling in Love With the Bean (0)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)

Governer Kulongoski decides to invite several Portland-area police departments to a friendly competition. The Beaverton Police Department, the Gresham Police Department, and the Portland Police Department all take part.

A jackrabbit is marked with blue dye, then released into Forest Park. Each of the Police Departments in turn is given a chance to locate and capture the rabbit.

First, the Gresham PD goes in.
They place animal informants throughout the Park.
They question all plant and mineral witnesses.
After weeks of extensive investigation, they conclude that rabbits do not exist.

Then, the Beaverton PD goes in.
They set up dozens of infrared surveillance cameras, each equipped with a GPS receiver and connected to the Internet by satellite.
Undercover officers in bear suits roam the woods.
After two weeks with no leads they call a press conference to announce that the rabbit has definitely left the area, and is probably now in California using an assumed name.

Finally, the Portland Police Department goes in.
They come out two hours later with a badly beaten raccoon.
The raccoon is yelling: “Okay! Okay! I’m a rabbit! I’m a rabbit!”

On November 14, Portland Officer Aaron Dauchy confronted a 12-year-old girl on a MAX platform for violating a Trimet “exclusion”. She and Dauchy began to scuffle. At this point Portland Officer Chris Humphreys discharged a shotgun loaded with a nonlethal “beanbag” round point-blank into the thigh of the girl.

Here’s the TriMet video that captured the incident.

As a result, Humphreys was placed on administrative leave by Police Commissioner Dan Saltzman and Police Chief Rosie Sizer. In response, hundreds of Portland police officers marched through downtown in support of Officer Humphreys. Twelve-year veteran Officer Peter Taylor penned a passionate explanation of why he, personally, felt he had to take part in the march.

The Portland Police Association conducted a “no-confidence” vote on Saltzman and Sizer, taking the position that Officer Humphreys “had acted as he was trained to act and did everything to minimize injury to the 12-year-old girl” and that “her actions is what led to the use of force against her”.

Under pressure from the union, Officer Humphreys was reinstated to desk duty, and in return the union is withholding the results of the no-confidence vote. The net result is an increased erosion in the relationship between the Portland Police Department and the public that they are sworn to protect.

Let’s put this incident into some sort of context.

The 12-year-old on the platform was under TriMet exclusion for the prior theft of a purse. According to TriMet Code Chapter 28, the District may exclude an individual from all or any part of the District Transit System for a provision of the TriMet code, or a violation of any criminal law of the State of Oregon while on the District Transit System, for up to six months. There are certain exceptions, but they aren’t relevant here.

Under “Enforcement” (section 28.20), the Code states that “all peace officers of the State of Oregon are authorized to issue citations, as provided by Oregon law, to any person who violates any provision of TMC Chapter 28″. So, the young lady was under an exclusion, and therefore could be cited for being at a MAX platform.

When confronted, she struggled. This was a bad decision, and certainly not her first. But the response that followed was entirely out of proportion for the situation. Much has been made of her height and weight, but even if she is the size of some adults, her size is not the issue. She was twelve. Children at 12 may not make rational choices. Applying an adult standard of behavior to a 12-year-old is inappropriate.

However, even if she were an adult, getting shot by a shotgun at close range was not justified by the seriousness of the situation. She was unarmed, not a threat to anyone, and guilty only of violating exclusion.

The seductive trap of less-than-lethal (LTL) weapons is the mistaken belief that they are “safe”, coupled with the realization that hitting a suspect with a taser or a beanbag round is a lot faster and easier than either arguing or grappling with them. But let’s get one thing straight, “non-lethal” does not mean harmless. In fact, experts refer to beanbag rounds, baton rounds and the like as “less-than-lethal”, or LTL. LTL ammo can break bones, rupture organs, destroy eyes, and even kill.

Furthermore, beanbag rounds are more traditionally used for stand-off applications such as riot control, and not close-range confrontations. Optimal range for use of a beanbag round is between 21 and 50 feet, according to the Police Assessment Resource Center, and when fired at less than 10 feet beanbag rounds can cause death or serious injury.

So, to put this in plain English, a 12-year-old girl was in a position to get a citation, and when she resisted she was shot, point-blank, by a 12-gauge shotgun firing 1.4 ounces of lead shot encased in a fabric sack.

This represents a dangerous use of force. And what is even more troubling, the use of excessive force appears to be becoming more and more common with the Portland Police Department. To wit, it’s beginning to look like the most serious crime you can commit in Portland is resisting arrest.

In 2003, not too long after I moved to Portland, 21-year-old African-American Kendra James was shot to death by Portland Police Officer Scott McCollister during a traffic stop. Ms. James, who had a warrant out for her arrest, had been riding in the back seat of the car. After the driver had been removed, Officers attempted to arrest Ms. James. Unexpectedly, she jumped from the back seat into the front seat of the car, started it, and tried to drive away. Indicating that he believed his life to be in danger, Officer McCollister fired his weapon, killing Kendra James.

In 2006, a homeless schizophrenic named James Chasse was “subdued” by Portland and Multnomah County police officers, resulting in 16 broken ribs, a broken shoulder, a broken sternum, and massive internal injuries. He died in custody. Mr. Chasse was guilty of public urination, and running from police.

My interest in the Portland bicycling community has made me aware of a few other incidents, where bicyclists have been chased, grabbed by the hair, handcuffed and arrested, and even tackled, pushed off their bike, and tasered repeatedly. Their crimes? Riding at night without a light, and not immediately stopping when shouted at. Even in the dark, when the arresting officers couldn’t remember if they properly identified themselves.

In the immortal words of Chris Rock, “If the police have to come and get you, they’re bringing an ass-kicking with them.”

I’m concerned. When I was a kid, I was taught that if I had a problem, if I was lost, if I was scared, I should find a policeman. That if someone was wearing a police uniform, I could trust them. Now I’m becoming afraid to give my own children the same advice. The Portland Police are in danger of being uniformly perceived as abusive, of using excessive force, and of being unable to police themselves.

The Portland Police department has many, many fine officers, who go to work every day under threat of violence, and spend their shifts dealing with the worst that humanity can offer. But those fine officers do themselves, and their city, a grave disservice when they fail to recognize excess within their own ranks, and fail to condemn it without equivocation.

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