Portland's WWII Memorial

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A few photos of Portland's hidden and all-but-forgotten World War II memorial. It's by the main entrance to Memorial Coliseum, but to the right and down an inconspicuous flight of stairs, so the passing crowds don't notice it's there. Unless you go down those stairs, there's nothing else at the Coliseum to indicate who or what it's supposed to be a memorial to. Below, there's a courtyard with a small fountain, a couple of benches, and a black stone wall with the names of Oregonians killed in the war. The wall looks a lot like the Vietnam Memorial in DC, but it's several decades older.



There's kind of a semantic argument about whether this area or the entire Coliseum is the memorial. It's not just idle hairsplitting; various Powers That Be keep broaching the idea of "redeveloping" the old Coliseum, which involves tearing it down and replacing it with various pet projects (a major league baseball stadium, more condo towers, etc.). They say it's obsolete and falling apart, and furthermore it competes with the Rose Garden next door, and get a load of that 60's ugliness -- eek! Those plans get a bit more complicated if the whole building is a war memorial. Some people are likely to object to tearing it down, if that's the case.



There's nothing particularly memorial-like about the Coliseum itself. The memorial part was basically tacked on by that era's Powers That Be to get the public to cough up the cash for it. "Veterans" was society's root password back then. Say it, and the public will let you have whatever you want. Today's root password is "sustainable". A few years ago, it was "homeland", and I think it was "the children" before that. Further back, it was "war on drugs" for quite a while. At any time, in any era, there's always a root password. In any case, the city fathers felt we needed a shiny new sports arena, so they said "veterans", and the citizens dutifully opened their wallets. So after an ugly bit of urban renewal (which involved tearing out the historic core of Portland's black community, but that's another story), our fair city ended up with a big new Coliseum, with an inconspicuous little Memorial tacked on the side.



So wrapping the Coliseum in the flag was a great way to get it funded back in the 50's, but now we've run up against the Law of Unintended Consequences. It's commonly thought that the Coliseum is hopelessly obsolete these days, and only partly because it lacks the luxury skyboxes required in these less-egalitarian times. Cities around the country have spent the last 15 years or so tearing out grey 60's concrete sports venues and replacing them with glitzy new venues, but the Coliseum has to stay, because tearing it out would be an insult to the nation's veterans, even if the "memorial" bit was originally stuck in for somewhat-less-than-sincere reasons.



Now, I'm not a big war afficionado. Society glorifies war far too much already, and we've spent a huge pile of money in recent years building increasingly grandiose memorials to various wars and other Important People And Events (see for example the big new WWII memorial in DC). I don't exactly see the recent memorial-building frenzy as a sign of a healthy, forward-looking society. But that said, the current state of affairs is quite sad. There's nothing more forlorn than a forgotten memorial. I've argued before that society should think carefuly before going around throwing up monuments, naming things after people, living or dead, etc. I won't bore you with the full argument again, but I will say this WWII memorial is a great illustration of my point.



I'm tempted to argue that the memorial, or at least the walls with names, should be moved somewhere less obscure and more accessible. But I worry that just plays into the hands of the city's greedy developers. If the memorial is the one thing that keeps the Coliseum from being torn down, and you move the memorial, a heartbeat later the Coliseum will be gone, and our tax dollars will go to build even more "market rate" condo towers in its place, for those rich Californian empty-nesters the city inexplicably loves so much. A post on BlueOregon advocates moving the Coliseum to save it, but tearing it down would be cheaper, so that's probably what they'd do -- unless maybe you came up with a really upscale-Portland use for the building, like making it the world's largest doggie day spa / yoga studio / swanky martini bar megaplex.



I feel like I have to kind of tiptoe around this and reiterate that I'm not actually accusing any particular person of doing this, because it wouldn't be nice to accuse someone of this -- but it does seem to me that, if one wanted to blow up the Coliseum, it would be in one's vested interest to neglect the memorial. Not do anything to damage it intentionally, of course, but simply devote as few resources as possible to its upkeep, in classic Portland passive-aggressive fashion. Eventually -- hopefully -- the public will get outraged about it and demand action, and one can then propose a solution that involves condo towers. As I said, I'm not accusing anyone in particular of doing this. I'm not a mindreader, and I can't speak to people's inner motives. I'm just saying that if one wanted what the Powers That Be appear to want, one's coldly logical best course of action would be indistinguishable from what's actually been happening for years now. Although perhaps that's just a remarkable coincidence. I really couldn't begin to speculate about that. I mean that. Honest.

a red pepper

Umbrella Man

A few photos of the "Umbrella Man" statue in Pioneer Courthouse Square. He's a local icon, and people seem to like him, for the most part. I think it's that he sort of captures the "everyday civic virtue" aspect of Portland's self-image. Just a regular guy in a suit, seeing someone in need and trying to be helpful. I guess that's what it's about. The central location probably helps too.


I didn't really know anything about the Umbrella Man, so being who I am, I thought I'd dig around a bit, see what I could find out, and do a post about it, since that's what I always do. The strange thing this time is that I think I liked the Umbrella Man better before I started researching him.



Everybody just calls him the Umbrella Man, but his real name is "Allow Me", and he's by the sculptor J. Seward Johnson, Jr., who we'll get to in a bit.

But first, I was surprised to discover that our Umbrella Man is just one of several Umbrella Men scattered here and there. There's one in Philadelphia -- although being in Philadelphia, his gesture is less of an "Allow Me", and more of a "Stop, Thief!", I think. Philadelphia's Umbrella Man was moved a few years back, the article saying:

But in late May the oft-maligned statue, a J. Seward Johnson work titled Allow Me, disappeared. And to the chagrin of those who routinely molested the immovable man by placing cigarette butts, onion rings or trash between his open fingers, he won't be returning to his shady sidewalk spot.

They trash theirs, we make ours a civic icon. This shows that either they, or we, are uncultured philistines. But I'm not sure which is which right now. I do have a sudden hankering for onion rings, though. Mmm... onion rings... Anyway, the article goes on to note:

Philly's work is just one in a series of seven casts. Chicago, Portland, Ore., and Bath, N.Y., all have copies of Allow Me on public display; the remaining three are in private collections in Los Angeles, Port Smith, Ark., and Hamilton, Ohio.

Here's a photo of the Chicago Umbrella Man. The Waymarking page about our guy suggests there's at least one more out there, somewhere in New England, although that may be the Bath, NY one.

Updated: We now have linky-linky from this story about Philadelphia's Umbrella Man. Seems he's just returned to his new home after being damaged in post-World Series drunken rioting. Portland has many sterling qualities and all that, but we do have an unfortunate lack of drunken rioting. Even on Fat Tuesday and St. Patrick's Day, when drunken rioting is practically a patriotic duty. Ok, and we also have an unfortunate lack of a major league baseball team. And an NHL team, more importantly. But I digress.



It seems Mr. Johnson happens to be a disinherited (but still very, very rich) heir to the Johnson & Johnson family fortune. I gather he's sort of your basic wealthy, generous patron of the arts, who does a bit of sculpting of his own on the side.

Thing is, though, I gather his work isn't everyone's cup of tea. Art critics, in particular, seem to generally look down their noses at Johnson's works. This is the part that sort of makes me unhappy. I just thought of our statue as the Umbrella Man, a well-known piece of local public art. I never stopped to consider whether he might be ...gasp... bad art! I guess the painted shirt and tie ought to have been a big kitsch alert, but things only start to sink in once you've looked at some of his other stuff.

Johnson may be best known (outside Portland, anyway) for "Beyond the Frame", a controversial (but popular) show at the Corcoran Gallery in DC. "Beyond the Frame" showcased a series of Johnson's sculptures based on famous impressionist paintings. The Washington Post's art critic hated it with a passion. His review's worth a read -- you don't often encounter quite this degree of invective in a family newspaper, and when you do, it's rarely as entertaining as this. There's also an interesting (and much calmer) discussion of the show in this post on IONARTS, a DC art blog.

On the other hand, the National Review loved it, or they say they loved it, for solid ideological culture-war reasons. It was a golden opportunity for conservative elite types to once again trot out their pretend allegiance to the unrefined tastes of the common man. When they're not busy sending the common man off to die in the Middle East, or exporting his job to China, I mean.



I also ran across a 1989 article about Johnson's works in Interior Design magazine, titled "Norman Rockwell in 3-D". Unfortunately the article's only available on HighBeam, which I don't subscribe to, but it begins with the sentence "Seward Johnson, Jr., is not the worst sculptor in the U.S., though he may be trying."

I get the impression Johnson remains unfazed by the critics. I think it's like what George Lucas said when the Star Wars prequel trilogy came out, something to the effect that his stuff is critic-proof, and he can afford not to care what they think.

I see the Umbrella Man kind of like how I see the aforementioned onion rings. I know I'm not supposed to like onion rings. Educated, civilized, cultured persons such as myself shouldn't like such things. It simply isn't done. But I still sort of do anyway.





Not a big "from the interwebs" section this time, but a few items

A About.com page insists he can't be a real Portlander, because he's wearing a suit and using an umbrella. I've never gotten the no-umbrella thing some people have here. I've lived here most of my life, and umbrellas are a basic quality-of-life amenity. Nobody gives you points for getting rained on when you don't have to. You do know that, right?

Ricardo's Blog also has a post about Umbrella Man, with a couple of photos.

On Indymedia, a photo of the Umbrella Man during a war protest, looking as if he's joined in.

And, lastly, someone's poem about him.

Kelley Point expedition

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So here's a big batch of photos from Kelley Point Park, way up at the far northwest tip of the city, where the Willamette flows into the Columbia. The city describes the place like this:

New Englander Hall Jackson Kelley (1790-1874) was one of the most vocal advocates for Oregon in the first half of the 19th century. In 1828 he published Settlement on the Oregon River, and nine more pamphlets on a similar theme over the next 40 years. A bit deranged, he spent most of his life bitterly trying to win notice - and payment - for having sparked American interest in the Pacific Northwest.

Kelley visited Oregon briefly in 1834. During that time, Sellwood, Milwaukie, and Oregon City were all vying with Portland to be the main city at the north end of the Willamette. Among these was Kelley's unsuccessful attempt to establish a city at the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia Rivers. In 1926 this site was named Kelley Point.

Kelley Point Park was originally owned by the Port of Portland which covered the flood-prone peninsula with tons of river dredgings. The site that was once envisioned as a city is now a park on an isolated tip of land.

You'd think that the spot where the city's two rivers join would be a central location, but it's really quite remote, or at least it feels that way. Apparently the closest residence is about four miles from here. Closer by, it's nothing but shipping terminals, steel mills, warehouses, protected wetlands, the old St. Johns Landfill, the mothballed Wapato jail, and, well, probably a lot of other stuff I don't know about because I'm hardly ever up that way.



I've been out to Kelley Point a couple of times before, and it's been on my blog todo list for a while now, but it takes what seems like freakin' forever to get there. People don't often realize this, because on everyone's mental map of the city the Willamette is ruler-straight north-south, and the Columbia east-west, but Kelley Point is further north than downtown Vancouver, and about as far west as Washington Square. Seriously. Look carefully at a map and see for yourself.



So it feels remote, and it doesn't help that the secluded parking lot has big signs warning you to lock your car and not leave anything valuable in it, like the signs you see out in the Gorge. The remoteness is both true and illusory. True, for obvious reasons. It's surrounded by water on three sides -- besides the two rivers, the park's southern border is the much-maligned Columbia Slough. Directly across the Columbia it's nothing but trees, with a few barges parked here and there for storage. Across the Willamette is rural Sauvie Island. There's even wildlife. When I was there, I saw a beaver swimming in the Columbia. I figured it was just a nutria until it saw me and slapped its tail to warn the others. There probably are others -- I later ran across a chunk of wood on the beach that had obviously been gnawed by beavers. I also saw a couple of great blue herons, not that they're terribly uncommon. One was standing in the Columbia Slough, unwisely looking for something to eat there. The only thing you're going to catch in the Columbia Slough is cooties. The beach on the Willamette side is littered with shells that look like clamshells. I don't know if they're freshwater mussels, or some sort of invasive species off one of the cargo ships, or what. And then there were a few animal tracks I didn't recognize. Not a dog, clearly. I kind of hope it's an otter, because I always hope for otters. But it's industrial North Portland, so it's probably just some kind of horribly mutated rat or something.

Apparently they also get sea lions here occasionally, at least dead ones, for whatever that's worth.



The remoteness of Kelley Point is also illusory, because immediately to the east of the parking lot, behind a razor-wire fence, is another parking lot, a monumentally vast one, full of shiny new Toyotas just off the boat from Japan. And immediately to the south, across the Columbia Slough from the park, is a gigantic grain terminal that usually has a couple of huge ships docked and loading up on wheat, destined for distant ports of call far across the Pacific Rim. When a ship goes by, the wake causes big waves along the beach, sort of a freshwater sneaker wave if you somehow happened to not notice the ship going by.





People do use the place -- it's got a big group picnic area, and restrooms, and there's evidence people like to hang out on the beach with a nice, cool, and technically illegal premium malt beverage. There's always someone walking a dog, because this is Portland. Oh, and apparently it's also popular in some quarters for, well, anonymous hookups in the underbrush. I suppose that's a step up from airport bathrooms.





So, uh, apparently this is the point where I provide the bullet-point list of "assorted items from around the interwebs" relating somehow to Kelley Point. That's the usual formula, and I'd so hate to disappoint.

• Columbia River Images
  
• Photos in at least two posts at "The Narrative Image"
  
• A post at 8 second block. Incidentally, this humblest of humble blogs is actually blogrolled there, which is the mark of an uncommonly discerning mind, so I wholeheartedly encourage you to go pay a visit.
  
• PDX Family Adventures says the big ships going by will amaze your kids. I don't know about your kids, and I have none of my own, but it certainly would've amazed me if I'd come here as a kid. Not that I've ever been representative of the larger population or anything.
  
• travisezell, describes the park as "a sludgy industrial riverbed for fishermen and rubbish (old boat parts, the ruins of docks, plus your typical human folderol like tennis shoes, liquor bottles and computer parts)". I didn't see any computer parts, but I can see how that might happen, and he's got a cool photo of some kind of circuit board half-buried in the sand.
  
• Kelley Point is Day 65 at "365 Days [and learning'"
  
• A few photos of the park, and other spots around town, in this post on "Passing Perception".
  
• madeofmeat: "Temporal fuckup and Kelley Point"
  
• A post about ship spotting at More Hockey Less War.
  
• A 2007 column at the Asian Reporter "Talking Story", involves the columnist wandering around the park, asking various people if they know the history of the place. Nobody does. But really, why should they?
  
• The Zinester's Guide has a short piece about the park, just history, no photos.
  
• An interesting comment to a post at Land Use Watch. Honestly, the presence of paved paths here is way down my list of local environmental & livability concerns. If the paths weren't paved, they'd probably just be impassable, soupy, probably contaminated mud most of the year.
  
• A couple of posts about riding there at BikePortland.
  
• The Urban Adventure League, or at least the main guy behind it, tried to bike there three different times and never quite got there. So, uh, I win! Yay!
  
• A forum thread about fishing for sturgeon here. Yes, fishing for long-lived, bottom-feeding, heavy-metal-and-PCB-accumulating sturgeon, just downstream of the Portland Harbor superfund site. Yeah, good luck with that.
  
• 1992 and 2007 Oregonian articles with much handwringing about low-income and immigrant people insisting on fishing here, despite the cooties and other environmental hazards.
  
• A couple of posts that mention making pottery with soil from Kelley Point
  
• Video of a party here on YouTube.
  
• Back in 2002, the park figured in a gruesome homicide - the body, or parts of it, were found in the Columbia Slough here, in a duffelbag.
  
• Oh, and Kelley Point was even the epicenter of an earthquake a while back.
  

Like most parks in town, Kelley Point is a popular spot to let your dog run around, and maybe blog about it afterward. A few selected examples:

• Realigned Rain says the park is "not all that interesting", although the dog seemed to like it.
  
• "For the Love of Water" calls it Dog Paradise
  
• "Bella the Boxer" reports on "My date with Norman", with a video and everything. I didn't realize boxers were so tech-savvy. You learn something every day, I guess.
  
• GoodStuffNW calls it Doggie Nirvana
  

Assorted Flickr photos, again from "around the interwebs" (i.e. from Flickr):

• a shell photo
  
• a cool driftwood photo
  
• the confluence of the rivers
  
• a long exposure at night, shot on 4x5 film, I think by one of the Blue Moon guys.
  
• a great night photo
  
• a b&w pinhole image, again at the river confluence
  
• a colorful sunset
  
• another sunset at the confluence, with a Sigma ultra wide-angle lens. I asked Santa for an ultra wide this year, but it didn't show. Some sort of nonsense about mortgage payments and so forth.
  
• a still from a short horror film filmed here.