Behind the Sign

Among the notable dates in the history of Edison, WA, there is one that is highly conspicuous in its absence: 1897 - the year Edison became the headquarters for a national utopian socialist project known as "Equality Colony."

I should have a bumper sticker that says, "I brake for murals." As a person who works for a sign company, that probably comes as no surprise -- but when it comes to Mount Vernon's most recent mural display (courtesy of Consejo Counseling Services), it's much better to get out of the car and take it in slowly. This mural art is the visual equivalent of a fine Oaxacan molé, so by all means savor the flavor.

While I could easily fill the next page telling you all the things I love about the Stanwood Camano Fair, it has something that no history buff can resist: original pioneer cabins that are not only still intact, but still in use. Along with some other notable structures that the Fair has preserved, they add a sense of history and nostalgia that harken back nearly 150 years ago. This article is devoted to two of these: the Erdahl Cabin and the Settre Cabin.

Among my favorite islands in the San Juan chain is Perry's Island. Never heard of it, you say? Top off your mug and settle in for a brief and interesting Magic Skagit history lesson.

On November 7, 1805, the Corps of Discovery was in sight of the objective they had labored to reach for more than 4,000 miles and 18 months. Little wonder that Clark wrote, with such atypical fervor, “O! the joy.” But what did the good captain see? And was it the sea? For almost a century the prevailing historical wisdom has been that Clark was mistaken in his recorded observation, and that the Corps would not “see the sea” for many more days. A historian and cinematographer from the mouth of the Columbia offers a compelling challenge to the prevailing narrative. Spoiler alert: Clark was right.

This is literally a "shaggy dog" story -- but one that tells of the woven arts heritage of the Coastal Salish, and a source of fiber that set them apart from other native weavers.

The current of the Skagit River has long carried a strong creative energy in its unending flow. In fact, I would argue that the Skagit Valley boasts an amazingly high per capita of artists. There's an event this weekend that strongly supports my case.

Over the next couple of years (give or take a few months), my goal with Meyer Sign’s “Core of Discovery” series is to visit and write about every site associated with Lewis & Clark and the nearly 40 individuals (not including Meriwether Lewis’ faithful Newfoundland, Seaman) who accompanied them on their more than 4,000 mile journey across eleven states from St. Louis, Missouri to the Pacific Ocean, as designated by the National Park Service/U.S. Department.

In 1869, John Barker opened a trading post at the south fork of the Skagit River on Fir Island in what would eventually become known as Skagit City — the oldest of the Skagit Valley’s river towns. Over the next decade, Skagit City boasted hotels, stores, saloons, a school, church and other public buildings. Today, however, only a single physical reminder of Skagit City remains. The river giveth, and the river taketh away.

This is the story of a painting by a local artist and member of the Upper Skagit Tribe, and why it seemed like the perfect gift for my wife on her birthday.

It is true…we like big trees. Interestingly enough, our earliest and most popular Tales of the Magic Skagit episodes had to do with one Skagit Valley tree in particular: the massive tulip poplar that spreads its leafy boughs over the intersection of Cleveland and Snoqualmie Streets, kitty-corner to the Mount Vernon Public Library. We were recently reminded of just how much folks enjoyed those stories, thanks to an email from the Tree People of Walla Walla.

For almost as long as I lived in Mount Vernon, Ristretto has been my "go go" local coffee joint. But this story isn’t about Ristretto, so much as it is about one of the people who currently owns what for years has been a cultural magnet of downtown Mount Vernon — a place where the baristas are as engaging as they are professional, where the brick walls drip with local art, and where the spaces within in its 19th century facade nurture public discourse or more secluded reflection, as the spirit moves. This is the story of Sean O’Leary, and how his personal narrative adventurously intertwines with that of a much loved local cafe.