Life is about acquiring and losing. Early on we learn the lessons of acquiring: the nippled bottle, the largest piece of pie, the affections of someone special, tokens for trading, the elements of knowledge.
Acquisition's binary twin is loss. The lessons of loss are hard to forget: innocence, overreaching, pride, ignorance, dereliction, cowardice, bad timing, dumb luck.
And now perhaps our most profound collective loss is Portland, Oregon, my home town -- pulled down from the penthouse to the outhouse by the curse of those binary twins. From its western pioneer days, Portland enjoyed the reputation for being a special home of the mystical spirit of the Oregon Trail that embodied courage, robust adventurism, freedom, and creative determination. It attracted people to its borders from across the nation (more than some Oregonians were comfortable with) and Portland, its major metropolis, over the decades acquired the characteristics of the proverbial shining city on the hill. One admirer called it First Cabin on Spaceship Earth.
It's all gone. The crashing loss appeared to occur almost overnight, but the first warning signs of trouble were the uncontrolled encampment the homeless (an unfortunate name for a multi-layered combination of people who are mentally ill, drug users, criminals and those who are just plain broke). The city leaders never dealt with the issue and the problem exploded into what is now a major disaster.
The criminal element who vandalized downtown Portland were not harshly dealt with and taken off the streets. The hideous jungle of plywood covered storefronts in Portland's core has brought commercial activity to its knees. One jewelry store closed its doors after 46 years downtown.
It's past time for some tough action against the perpetrators who have destroyed our city. I'm too old to lead the charge and I've seen no evidence of any courageous man (or woman) with a plan rising up to save Stumptown. Where have you gone, Tom McCall? We badly need you.
