Behind the Sign

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.

I think it was my love of “Legends of the Fall” that resonated with me when I first beheld the statue of a diminutive matron in Victorian dress in downtown Lynden, Washington. A nearby sign with a photograph that may have served as the model for the statue identified the woman as “Phoebe Goodell Judson (October 25, 1831 - January 16, 1926). First woman settler who gave Lynden its name, and considered to be the “Mother of Lynden” for the care and love she showed for all those who called Lynden home.”

If you were to make the case that great sign makers are born, not made, Paul Lachapelle would serve as “Exhibit A.” His destiny might have seemed obvious from his childhood love of neon, but whatever the combination of nature and nurture played in determining his career path, the insurmountable fact is this: Paul Lachapelle is a stone cold sign guy.

This is the second part of our two-part series describing seven days in September 1805 that Meriwether Lewis, William Clark, and the Corps of Discover spent crossing the Bitterroot Mountains on their way to the Columbia River -- and on to the the object of their quest: the Pacific Ocean.

There were a number of times throughout its epic 8,000 mile journey to the Pacific Ocean and back that the Corps of Discovery might have foundered. One of these points was during its crossing of the Bitterroot Mountains from what is today Montana to Idaho in September 1805. What follows is a day-by-day account of the most arduous week of that journey. You might want a fleece blankie and a cup of hot cocoa while reading this. Things are about to get very wet and chilly.

Over the nearly twenty years of their lives together, Max and Ann Meerkerk marriage was full of adventures and accomplishments that could have filled a multitude of lifetimes. If their lifestyle seemed a tad bohemian, Max and Ann's singular personalities harmonized into a rhapsody that echoes sweetly still, and lives on in a garden of earthly delights.

Jesus Guillén came to the Skagit Valley as many immigrants did, in the hope of a better life for himself and his family. He pursued that goal not only as an agricultural worker, but as an artist who celebrated his fellow farmworkers and the beauty of the fields and landscapes where they labored. Thanks to his artistic vision, us Skagitonians are able to see ourselves and the place we've chosen to live in a way no other artist has depicted. This is a brief overview of his life and legacy.