Art Garcia holds one of many distinctions as Voice #2 in 100 VOICES — AMERICANS TALK ABOUT CHANGE. Today I got a text message: “Check your front porch.” Then a second message followed “: )” — Both were from Art. I wasn’t home at the time, so I called David, my world’s best ever next door neighbor and asked if he’d go see what Art had left. “It’s flowers,” David said…. Read More
It’s Labor Day. Over the course of our country’s history, one place many people have found work has been in the military. I’m not a military person. I know a few veterans and I like them but outside movies, newscasts and the anti-war protests I’ve been a part of over the years, I know almost nothing about military service. I hadn’t counted until now, but turns out six of the people who… Read More
“I heard from the Idol people. I’m goin’ to LA in October!” Mr. Prude was at the bus stop Tuesday morning. “I went right to the Western Union office and sent my mom a telegraph. Next thing I know my phone was ringing and she was saying, ‘I knew you could do it!’” So this is how the story of Mr. Prude was unfolding for me. Here was a man I took… Read More
Ever since my garage door crunched itself into an intractable accordion, trapping my car inside, I’ve been riding the bus. I like it. It takes more time, but it’s easy – and its richer. One of my companions at the bus stop most Tuesdays and Thursdays is Mr. Joey Prude. The first time we spoke was on a Thursday. That day, like every other day I’d seen Mr. Prude he sat under… Read More
A young woman in camo was in front of me in the TSA line at the airport. It was a long line. I asked if she was headed home. “Furlough,” she said. “Afghanistan.” We talked families and weather. She said she’s in her second tour of duty. Back to back. “The reason I re-enlisted,” she went on, “well, it wasn’t because there’s any glory in it or anything. It’s pretty much hell. … Read More
It is shortly after 1:00 in the afternoon in the Starbucks on 28th and E. Burnside in Portland, Oregon. It’s Adam’s last day as a barista here. He’s off for a full-time gig in a fusion restaurant downtown. My friend Doug just walked by and came in for a chat. He’s a bartender who, for the first time in two decades, didn’t have to work New Year’s Eve. “Nothing more renewing than… Read More
Feelin’ it? The independence? Last night I sat under a sky that, after a day blanketed with marine clouds, cleared for this: The exquisite blues riffed from Curtis Salgado’s voice and Lloyd Jones’ fingers dancing the way they do on the neck of his guitar. But that’s not all. The music those guys sent into the air around the Willamette River bounced off the buildings of the city, soaked into the vast… Read More