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I was ambling about near the courthouse recently (don’t ask me why) when I espied an anomaly peeping out at me from a landing on the steps of City Hall:
Odd’s, fish! What fookery is this? thought I. —Mayhap it’s those “Occupy” rascals again, battering at the gates of local government.
A closer look confirmed my suspicions.
Clearly, this situation wasn’t normal; as a citizen journalist, I was ethically bound to investigate.
[TBC]
Into the tent I went, and there I found divers friendly folk, including:
¶ Michael: an out-of-work journalist and co-promoter of Seattle’s own HempFest.
¶ “Hippie”: a “reformed career criminal who’s startin’ to fly right.”
¶ John: a carney.
¶ Nate: a Political Science major.
¶ Frank: a registered nurse.
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Pictured above are Michael, John, and Frank. Frank has a three-day-old shiner, which he got while ejecting a disorderly visitor.
Nice fellows all, notwithstanding the somewhat less-than-flattering quality of my photography.
In case you’re wondering, this group has a temporary permit, renewable weekly, to be camped out here. In this sense, they’re different from the larger group that was once at Westlake (now at SCCC) and was never officially permitted, to the best of my knowledge.
They even have official badges that allow them to move about on the premises unhindered.
How cool is that?
Given the tent’s proximity to City Council offices, I expected Frank to tell me that councilmembers occasionally poked their heads in to say hi, but such was not the case. According to Frank, no councilmember had ever visited.
Before leaving the encampment, I made sure to compromise my journalistic integrity by giving them a five dollar bill and a box of Cracker Jacks (not even opened yet). Then I asked Frank if there was anything the people of West Seattle could do to show their solidarity.
“It’d be good if people came down here to see us. You know, like physically show up and say ‘Hi’ so you can see our faces, see that we’re here. Everybody’s welcome to come and visit.”
“Is that it?” I said. “Is that all you want?”
“Well, we like sandwiches, too. Coffee and donuts. Stuff like that.”
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DBP note: If you do decide to visit, tell ’em David from the Blog sent you. There’s no doors on the place, so just yell “Knock Knock” or “Hullo!” from outside the big tent.
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