Vote YES for buses today!
King County residents: If you value your bus system, vote YES on Proposition 1 by April 22nd. You can find more information here.
The ultimate ride read
The Rebellious Life of Mrs. Rosa Parks is one of the most thought-provoking books I have read in a long time. I hope you’ll read it, too.
In the Bus Bag
Unaccustomed Earth, by Jhumpa Lahiri
Tag Archives: Romie
I recently passed this Jacob Lawrence tribute shelter on Jefferson, somewhere between 18th and 21st.
I can’t believe I never noticed it before!
Thanks to my dad, I’ve known and appreciated Lawrence’s work since childhood. (Pops was both an admirer of Mr. Lawrence’s paintings and an acquaintance of the artist.) What I didn’t know until I read this HistoryLink essay is that both Lawrence and his wife, Gwendolyn Knight, were bus people.
In 1971, Jacob …
My dad‘s family has been in Seattle since the early 30′s. My grandparents originally settled in a home mere blocks from where I live now. Dad was born at Harborview, grew up in Seattle and its environs, and raised his family here. And yet, I get most of my (considerable) Seattle love from my mother, a Northwesterner by marriage.
Truth be told, my dad is a bit of a Seattle hater.
To be fair, his hateration is less about the place, which he reveres, and more about the culture. Let him tell it, it’s lack of leadership …
This evening, we Saulter siblings (well, three of us, anyway)–along with our respective SOs and Chicklet–convened in our original neighborhood of West Seattle to celebrate our father‘s 70th birthday. The plan was to meet at a restaurant on Alki–as good an excuse as any for Bus Nerd and I to try the Water Taxi shuttle for the first time. (Yes, I’ve been riding the Water Taxi for years, but since my dad lives across the street from the Seacrest dock, and I only ride my favorite floating bus to visit him*, I’ve never had occasion to …
For Jerome–born May 15, 1939
I was just one of your children. I wasn’t the oldest and I wasn’t a son. Wasn’t good at sports or confident enough to impress you. I was just one of your children, but you were my hero. The man to whom all others have been compared–none ever as brave, as smart, as strong.
How many days did I watch you bolt your soggy cereal and grab your briefcase, sprinting up the alley to a world I wished I knew? That world symbolized courage and independence, and everything I wanted to be. To …