The horrible human disaster of the Carlton Complex fires weighs heavy on the people of the Methow Valley and Okanogan County, and that pressure may not lift fully for years. It is a disaster almost incomprehensible in scope — more than 300 houses destroyed, hundreds of outbuildings gone, untold lives torn apart.
The United States Postal Service is seeking public comment on the pending move of the Wenatchee Post Office, from the marbled halls of the Federal Building, to the humble former Royal Palace Restaurant at 1060 Maple.
I was dreaming again. My old portable radio sits on the middle of my dining room table, just as it did so many years ago. I’m in my usual straight-backed chair, nervous, leaning forward, elbows planted, staring straight at the radio as if I expect something dreadful to happen. It’s early evening but already dark. My wife is in the next room stitching on her latest quilt. I hear familiar, scratchy sounds, ads for Bob Feil Boats & Motors and Hooked On Toys, then the voice:
This can be awkward, asking the government for help. Gov. Jay Inslee recently asked the Federal Emergency Management Agency — FEMA — that our charred segment of Washington be declared a major disaster and therefore eligible for various forms of federal assistance. His request was granted, but only for Okanogan County and the Colville Tribes, and only for so-called “public assistance,” which is not assistance for the public, but aid to public agencies with infrastructure bashed or carbonized. FEMA denied Inslee’s request for assistance to individuals, even for Okanogan County ...
Selling agricultural commodities is a kind of dance, with time limits. Once the sale is consummated, the clock starts. The buyer needs it on time, because customers don’t pay for empty shelves. Food is often perishable — faster is fresher, and fresher is better. Then, with bulk commodities like grain, loaded on ships and sent to the far corners of the globe, there are schedules to meet, and promises to keep. The owners of ships don’t like to see them sitting around waiting for the cargo. Delays due to a ...
It is difficult to drive up Wenatchee’s Miller Street without dismay. The pavement is only months old and already melted into ruts of oily black crud between strips of sandy gray gravel and pockmarked intersections. It looks awful. It contributes to the nagging feeling that our local infrastructure is slowly degrading.
By now we are accustomed to Congress doing nothing. Our expectations are very near zero, but we are not yet fully numbed. To see so many elected leaders standing by, thumb twiddling as the West burns, pains us greatly. It is maddening that a natural disaster of on the scale of this year’s fires will produce no action out of the ordinary, and that emergency funding to fight them can be brushed off as a budgetary annoyance.
We gathered around the cheap black-and-white television to watch history, 40 years ago today. There were just a handful of us, college students who shared the rent at this run-down house near campus. We had been enjoying the leisurely pace of a summer semester, now suddenly interrupted as the world turned upside down.
Immigration is not easy, legal or illegal. This is particularly true when the would-be host nation has a government that cannot function, run by people who cannot solve even simple problems, much less decide monumental issues like who stays and who goes.
It’s morning on the lake. You can see the sun is already baking the south shore. It glints off the cabin windows and turns the mountains green and gold. It’s early, but the air feels warm. The sunglasses are handy as you plant yourself in the plastic chair by the dock, and take a first sip of coffee. There’s barely a sound. The downlake breeze is dying, ready for the usual midday calm. The water is empty, nothing to see but a gaggle of geese that honk as they take ...