Interesting story, John. The whole world will soon be categorized into links! Right, Cyndi? Not bad though! Snohomish is advertised as the Antique Capital of the Northwest. It just isn't smart for Snohomish to ignore any historical aspect of their town. Most of what they present is somewhat phony. They could have restored the cemetery as a show place of real history, installed benches and run busses there as a place for tired antique shoppers to enjoy some peace and recuperate. They could put kiosks on the street side for refreshments, and numerous signs with the history of the people buried there which would give Snohomish some much needed honest character. Evidently, city administrators have adopted a plan which involves misusing their own seniors. I hope it backfires because the seniors are going to be the losers. I've said before, don't know if anybody heard, but these seniors in Snohomish deserve better than an old house on a cemetery. They deserve the same kind of new building other WA towns have. There are state and federal grants available for such projects. Why can'tsome honest group in Snohomish accomplish this for these people who deserve respect instead of manipulating. The same can be said for the youth of Snohomish. If they were asked individually if they want a center over the old Indian cemetery, would they unanimously vote yes? We all know politicians don't get involved in these projects for any benevolent reasons, it is usually to further their own careers. How would you like to be a politician who climbed up over a bunch of dead pioneers? There is something very strange in Snohomish. John Wm Sloniker wrote: > > Too bad Snohomish can't understand the interest in History. -- jws > ---------------------------------- > > In pursuit of local history > http://www.seattletimes.com/news/lifestyles/html98/hist_101298.html > > by Cynthia Rose <cros-new@seatimes.com> > Seattle Times staff reporter > > Posted at 03:55 a.m. PDT; Monday, October 12, 1998 > > Any approach to history can fire the imagination, filling a mind > with images of lost places and personalities. To the creative mentality, > this can be a special spur. Imagining someone's very different reality, > yet considering what it has given you: This is the task author Devon > Whyte assigned himself. > > Whyte, a native of Antigua, moved to Seattle from Atlanta. One > reason for that move was his writing. "Atlanta is a Southern city with a > very specific culture. You either commit to that or you don't. Seattle > seemed to me to have a flexible style." Once Whyte got his bearings as a > Northwesterner, he enjoyed exploring Seattle and its customs. His first > summer here, during Seafair's Torchlight Parade, Whyte glimpsed a float > titled "Black Pioneers." It was a vision of the past he had never > considered. But once he did, he became intrigued. The seed planted by > those Seafair wheels and costumes would become, for Whyte, his novel > "The Purple Princess." > > The book began with his questions about migration. What had driven > African Americans to venture west? What had they hoped to find? And: How > does their past continue to affect us? "That one Seafair image made me > ask those questions. Then I started doing research on my own." > > Whyte did this digging in public libraries, on his lunch hours and > after work. "The people I sought were there, but not in the minds of the > city chroniclers. You really had to dig to find a genuine sense of their > presence. But when you do find them, they are exceptional people. People > who sought to strike out as entrepreneurs." > > Whyte was most focused on the turn of the century. He became > fascinated by people such as George Washington (a homesteader who > went on to found the town of Centralia), and William and Sarah Grose > (settlers who ran a hotel here in the 1880s). "I was truly interested > in the pioneer venture. In terms of race relations alone, you can see > how it was possible. There were not the roadblocks here that existed > in the South. In a way, people tried to form a truly new place, less > an escape than a whole new America. > > Whyte grows animated. "Seattle was just so new. In ways, people > were unsure how to deal with one another. There was a greater degree > of control over your circumstances." > > Although the history was Whyte's initial inspiration, "The Purple > Princess" takes place in the 1970s. It tells the story of a female > entrepreneur but reaches back to the era of her grandfather. "He > traveled to Seattle from Jamaica, because I wanted to use that > influence. Caribbean people weren't a huge group in Seattle. But > they brought the city a tremendous energy." > > The best thing about history as a creative stimulus, says Whyte, is > that it's there for the taking. "You can do this kind of research almost > without assistance. If it was family stuff, of course, libraries aren't > enough. But when it comes to the building of the city, of Seattle's > infrastructure - you can easily find your feet." He smiles. "Still, you > must remember who is doing all that writing. What I was interested in > was digesting that, then setting it in motion somewhat differently." > > Unreeling hidden histories > > Filmmaker Stephen Sadis takes Whyte's advice literally. Since 1991, > the Bellevue native has been turning local history into documentaries. > The first, which appeared in 1992, was "The Miracle Strip," the story > of Renton's now-gone Longacres racetrack. It was followed by "Real > Baseball: The Everett Giants Story." Then, in 1996, Sadis made "The > Seattle-Tacoma Interurban Railway." The films have been broadcast both > locally and nationally, and continue to sell well on video. > > These days, Sadis' Perpetual Motion Pictures company occupies a > Second Avenue office that resembles a set. The low-lit room exudes a > 1930s ambiance, with framed vintage stills in the shadow of Art-Deco > arches. But, says the young exec, his enterprise was started by > accident. "I never thought I was really interested in `history.' Then > I saw Ken Burns' `The Civil War' on TV. I was living in Los Angeles, > working as a cameraman. Ken Burns' style really turned my views around." > > At almost the same time, Sadis learned Longacres was doomed. Having > worked there as a teen, he knew and loved the racetrack. "So I came home > just to document it. Of course, I didn't know how to go about it." With > two years to go before the track's demise, Sadis started hunting down > interview subjects: old employees, owners' relatives, even gamblers and > former jockeys. At the same time, he devoured newspaper microfilm. "I > read the local papers from 1906 through the '40s. They gave me mileposts > for that slice of Seattle history." > > Sadis' biggest struggle came with visualizing the story. And, in > the end, he broke down and wrote Ken Burns directly. "I asked for a > script of his, and he actually sent one! I'd never seen a documentary > script, so that was great." He then enlisted a writer friend, David > Buerge, and together they gave structure to a wealth of material: > interviews, paraphernalia, old footage, photographs. > > Since "The Miracle Strip," Sadis has never looked back. His current > feature is "The Seattle Rainiers," an hourlong documentary on the 1930s > baseball team. Raised to championship stature by Emil Sick, then the > owner of Rainier Brewery, the team had "a huge impact on the city," > says Sadis. > > As with every Perpetual project, research parallels Sadis' fund > raising. Even as he solicits memories, home footage and photos, he > writes grants, courts sponsors and talks to distributors. But > inevitably, his histories are incomplete. "You get some great tales > which never make it into the film, simply because there are no visuals > to support them. Plus there are complex things you can't do justice to, > because that's not the nature of your medium." > > This is the crisis that faces all historians. What format can > represent separate views of the past, views that are often at war with > one another? Is it best done in books, by links across the Internet or > in the variety of oral histories? Filming 100 Nisei for the Densho > Project, Tom Ikeda says he learned a sobering lesson. "More than > anything else, our talks revealed a group of individuals. Even though > they shared the experience of internment, that Japanese-American group > is far from homogenous." > > Thus, Ikeda argues, how their stories are told is critical. > "You have to worry about the architecture of your history, about its > interface, the structure of your information. Are you attempting to say > something is `definitive'? Or can you show how many viewpoints coexist?" > > The interactive dream > > Rewind to June 24, 1998, and the chambers of the Seattle City > Council. Here, at a hearing of the Culture, Arts and Parks Committee, > the topic is a project called HistoryLink. HistoryLink is yet another > history project, which takes the form of a "Web site and online diary." > It has been developed by History Ink, a nonprofit corporation of > concerned historians and the brainchild of author and researcher Walt > Crowley. Assisting Crowley was a longtime friend, the archivist and > writer Paul Dorpat. > > At today's hearing, Crowley sports a smart bow tie and Dorpat looks > dapper in a black sweater. While council aides unfurl a huge projection > screen, the colleagues stack books beside it. > > They include Clarence Bagley's multivolume sets, "The History > of Seattle" and "The History of King County" (1916 and 1929), Murray > Morgan's "Skid Road: An Informal Portrait of Seattle" (1951), Roger > Sale's double-volume "Seattle Past & Present" (1976) and a rare copy of > journalist Thomas Prosch's never-published "A Chronological History of > Seattle from 1850 to 1891." The Prosch document, owned by Dorpat, runs > to 485 pages - all typewritten on paper 14 inches long. It is one of > Seattle's rarest historical items; it has probably never been to City > Hall before. > > As lights dim, the bindings of the volumes glow like a cache of > Klondike gold. On the screen behind them appears a giant Web page, to > which Crowley addresses explanations. This is an outsize demonstration > of HistoryLink - or, more properly, of Thomas Prosch in cyberspace. > > Here, in a Quiktime photo show that leaps the years, the Hotel > Seattle appears, burns, rises from the ashes, metamorphoses - then > becomes a parking garage. As committee chair Nick Licata marvels, it > moves from Seattle's birth to the present "in just a couple of clicks." > But HistoryLink is aimed at offering substance. That's why its starting > point is what Crowley calls "the canon": the impressive pile of books on > the table. > > The idea is to "get those books into the box," form a clear and > reliable Seattle chronology. But the project's ultimate aim is far > larger: to be the umbrella for a new "people's history." Carried on > Seattle's Public Access Network, HistoryLink would mobilize every type > of contributor: scholars, students, local governments, churches, > businesses, libraries, schools. The venture wants us to help change > how Seattle sees itself. > > Before Crowley's pitch is even half over, the four council members > present are praising the concept. The vision of a link between all city > records sounds great. So does the idea of involving ethnic histories, > labor historians and private citizens. Like the Densho Project, this is > bold and ambitious. Plus, everything about it sounds high-tech: echt > Seattle. Culture, Arts and Parks swiftly votes to give it $25,000, in > available surplus cable franchise fees. > > A week later, talking in Crowley's own library, it turns out that > HistoryLink grew out of old frustrations. "I've written 10 books on > Seattle," says Crowley. "I know that answering the simplest question > is a problem. You have to look things up in 10 books, in 10 different > places. And, even once you find them, half of those still disagree." > > Dorpat nods in agreement. "Walt and I have talked for years about > how best to address this. Then, the whole digital thing just swept right > over us." Dorpat loves how the Internet lets history "spread out"; he > relishes putting forth the riddles and contradictions. "But you still > have to have the basic chronology. The history of any community is in > its vertical resonance." > > When this pair discuss resources, their excitement is palpable. > Seattle's Downtown Library wants to digitize its ephemera, maybe even > its whole Northwest Newspaper Index. Crowley hopes to scan in the Puget > Sound Archives' building survey - a 1937 Works Progress Administration > project that photographed every structure then standing in King County. > Historical societies and individuals all want to help. Says Crowley, > "There's a huge amount happening via the Net, with no real center. So > we see HistoryLink as a kind of default setting." > > Most important, says Crowley, everyone will learn. "Paul and I > could sit down and try to write a similar thing. But that would only be > based on what's available to us, and what we as a pair deemed to be > important. The Web lets everyone make the editorial judgments. It's > dynamic and, hopefully, it can also be corrective." > > Five months later, the project is under way. Its core staff - a > dozen writers and consultants - is busy getting "the canon" online. More > than $135,000 has been raised from private donors and from the > Metropolitan King County Council, the Seattle Public Library Foundation, > the City of Seattle, even the Daughters of the American Revolution. > Collaborations are proceeding, too, with groups ranging from the Black > Historians Guild to the Wing Luke Museum. > > At the downtown library, Susie Rennels cheers them on. "Every > conceivable institution is trying to digitize, but we're all doing > it pretty much in isolation. There is a real need for central > organization." > > Around her, the library's counter is littered with pamphlets: > "Native American Genealogies," "Learning the Internet For Free," "How > to Care For Your Historic Photographs." Rennels positions her elbows > carefully on the ledge. "People have a real desire," she says, "to share > history. To achieve a very one-on-one, person-to-person involvement. > That's one joy our mutual past does contain. Even when people come to > Seattle from different places, they often bond over what happened here > before them." > > She turns and gestures toward the busy room behind her, filled with > computers, cards, indexes, books - and people. "After all," she smiles, > "all it takes them is time." > > -- A selection of Devon Whyte's "The Purple Princess," chosen as one > of 14 works in the 1998 Jack Straw Foundation Writer's Program, was > recorded for broadcast on KUOW-FM this spring. For information, call > Straw at 209-634-0919. > > -- Anyone with footage or special memories of the Seattle Rainiers > is encouraged to contact Stephen Sadis at Perpetual Motion Pictures, > 1615 Second Ave., Seattle, WA 98101, 206-448-7568. > > -- For information about donations and contributions to HistoryLink, > contact sponsors at; > History Ink 206-782-0230, fax 206-782-4088, > 116 N.W. 58th St. or by e-mail at RUR2001@aol.com > Seattle, WA 98107 or RUR2001@speakeasy.org > > demo site: http://www.historylink.org > Projected launch date for the actual site is Nov. 11. > ------------------------- > > E-mail Comments to Editor : Comments@seatimes.com > > The Seattle Times home page > http://www.seattletimes.com/ > > Seattle Times: Table of Content > http://www.seattletimes.com/news/ > > The Seattle Times: Search Archive > http://www.seattletimes.com/extra/search.html > > The Seattle Times: Browse by date > http://www.seattletimes.com/todaysnews/browse.html > > Permission requests and information > http://www/seatimes.com/general/info.html > > Copyright (c) 1998 The Seattle Times Company > http://www.seattletimes.com/news/general/copyright.html