Interesting things about the City Council Committee's official visit to Nickelsville.
1) Their finest hour
I must say that the folks who represented Nickelsville to the City at this meeting were impressive. Some of them were a little intimidated by all the publicity, I could tell, but they held up well under the pressure. Unlike other media events I've been to, this one was very genuine. There was none of that obnoxious hype and speechifying that usually goes on.
2) A word shy of the whole truth
Notwithstanding my comment above, I think there was a little bit of fudging on the part of some NV folks. Their common refrain was that NV is nothing more than a short-term way station for folks. Turnover was high, everyone there was on his way to greener pastures, etc . . .
I believe that the majority of Nickelodeans do in fact see Nickelsville that way, as a stepping stone to something better. But there are certainly some others who have come to see the pace as a more-or-less permanent home. ("Hey, I'm unemployable and I know it. So what? I don't like the rules the government wants me to play by. I'd rather be out here in the fresh air.")
No matter what you do, NV is always going to have a certain percentage of folks who actually prefer living on the margins of society. I don't have a problem with that; I really don't. I just think people should deal with it realistically, starting with the citizens of West Seattle and the City Council.
3) Don't judge a reporter by his cover
I wasn't at NV under cover. I have no need to go under cover there, of course. Because I will always fit right in.
It amuses me to think that many Nickelodeans are more generally "presentable" than I. On the day of the Council visit, I mistook no less than three Nickelodeans for people on the City Council staff. Conversely, I was mistaken by at least one visitor for a camp resident. Five minutes into a conversation, Council member Sally Clark asked me: "So . . . how long have you been living here?"
Haw! I knew that would happen. My grandpa would've been proud of me.
(Grandpa used to slouch around the streets of his little town in the shabbiest old clothes. They would've kicked him out of the bank if he hadn't owned it.)
4) Priorities Normal: All Fruhcked Up
The Council was duly informed by one of the camp reps that there are four children living at the camp. If the Council hadn't been explicitly told this, they probably would've figured it out from the swing set — or maybe from the kids running around during the tour.
To my amazement, the fact that there are little kids living in a camp built on swampland did not seem to faze any of the Council members present. The Council members just asked a couple of routine questions ("Do they go to school?" --"Not right now. It's summer.") and then moved on.
You know, if I were a Council member being informed of this situation, I would have detailed an aide to get in touch with the parent immediately after this meeting. Getting those kids a place to stay would've become my new priority. Call me old fashioned . . .
Strangely enough, the Council members asked more questions about pets in camp than they asked about kids in camp. That one, I really do not get.
5) Plumbing 101
The Council members were sympathetic to the idea of getting water and electricity to the camp. They also seemed cool with the idea of putting shacks up on the property and generally turning the encampment into a permanent thing.
Your humble correspondent is cool with that, too. I say, if you're gonna let people live there, you might as well treat 'em like human beings. Of course I don't like the fact that there are no "social services" nearby (if you recall, this was one of the main complaints against the Sunny Jim site) but, on the other hand, I can't think of any open space where there are such services available. Perhaps, once the place has become established, the City will see fit to putting some kind of office on or near the site where residents can go for one-stop shopping of all social services that might benefit them.
6) Go ahead, punk. Roast my weenie!
At the end of their sit-down discussion with the Council committee, the Nickelodeans gave an open invitation to any member of the Council to come and stay a night with them in camp. This took the visitors a bit off guard, I think, and there was nervous laughter all around. In a comment that betrayed a quaint naiveté (not to mention the Council folks' discomfort at the thought of actually staying the night in a place like Nickelsville) one of them blurted out: "Yeah. Ha ha. We can bring our sleeping bags. We can roast some weenies and marshmallows!"
Ha ha ha. Oh, go own, City Council! (Just for that crack, you're going to be assigned to do the next dumpster run.)
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As a final observation, I should add that the Council members (Licata in particular) seemed to ask a lot of incredulous-sounding questions about the way decisions were made by the camp residents. I think the visitors had a hard time grasping the concept that you can actually get something accomplished in Seattle without spending millions of dollars and enduring endless political gridlock.
Watch and learn, City Council. Watch and learn.
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And now I have a confession to make. Remember the cookie I showed you in Part I of this report? Well that cookie was baked by one of the Council members (Sally B. I think) and it was actually intended for the Nickelodeans. But when the all cameras were turned off and no one was looking, I took that cookie out of the bag and ate it myself.
Wow, DP! I mused as I noshed dreamily on a butterscotch morsel. Stealing cookies from the mouths of homeless folks! It's a new low, even for you.
—So I guess this is what journalism has come to in the 21st century, huh?





















































































