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PORTLAND TIME, OREGON LINES: TIME TRAVEL IF YOU NEVER LEAVE

portland time

 

Portland time changed from 1804 to 1904. Again from 1904 to 2004. To round things up, today is in the year 2017.

 

From Lewis and Clark in 1804 to the Lewis and Clark Expo in 1904, give or take, to Big Pink, the changes show.

 

On a calendar it measures here to there if I count by hundreds. 213 by ones. But numbers are not stories. They’re part of history, but not the fun part, the exciting part.

 

Numbers are the measuring cups and spoons of the regional recipe. The citizens and fans of a city are the ingredients of greatness who measure Portland time.

 

portland time

 

Like a nail, a hook to hang modern Portland on, Big Pink stands alone like a keyhole to the future drawn on the sky.

 

To the right is the old key hole, probably called a monstrosity in it’s day like every Portland tower over three stories.

 

portland time

 

At the right angle the old tower looms over the new, staking it’s claim on a cold Sunday afternoon marking Portland time.

 

It was my birthday party on foot, walking out my favorite path with my favorites. Since it was my day they had to do what I told them.

 

“We’re walking across the Morrison Bridge, down the other side, and cross back on Burnside or the Steel.”

 

Cold wind whipped bare tree branches and the marchers. The middle of the Morrison Bridge looked barren cold. We got close enough to it, then turned back. Not exactly a Lewis and Clark moment. The important part is we all stayed together. I tried to shame them for being soft but my teeth clattered too much.

 

portland time

 

Even with the future ready to fall on my lap, the past seems so close. It’s not my history degree, or working in history museums, as much as it’s Portland time. Or a lament from a sixty-something baby boomer.

 

My kid was born in Portland and got married in Portland. He is Portland time on my watch.

 

When we all gather down by the river on a bone chilling day, everyone is on the same number: Time to go.

 

Where is your favorite city place?
About David Gillaspie

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  1. […] barbecued chicken turns into November roasters and it feels like a long weekend. It’s a sign we’re losing touch. At least that’s what we hear if we mention time […]

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