Elmer the husky and I snoozed in the car at the Empire Boat Ramp in Coos Bay. Before closing my eyes, I watched a man on the pier toss his crab trap into the water and saw a battered colorless sedan packed with possessions that was clearly a domicile. On the bay, spindrifts rose up, raced southward for several yards, then died.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a cold and windy Saturday afternoon and we had an hour to burn before I toured a house for sale a half mile away. If I bought the place, I would soon move from one of the richest neighborhoods in Oregon, Portland’s Sellwood, to one of the poorest, Coos Bay’s Empire. I would be exchanging one liberal county and city’s failed progressive governing for whatever constituted failed governing in a locale that worshiped Trump. I would be giving up a French-themed wine bar that served a $14 glass of house red for a disheveled doughnut shop that also <\/em>served hot dogs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I relished this prospect like a Ritalin-free tyke relished Christmas morning. I wanted this crazy contrast and jarring juxtaposition. It would stir my creative mind like the witches in the opening scene of Macbeth<\/em> stirring their bubbling cauldron. Earlier, driving every street of Empire, I had Nirvana’s<\/p>\n\n\n\n Incesticide <\/em>cranked and could smell the noir.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No wonder Nirvana hailed from Aberdeen. That bleak coastal Washington town smelled exactly the same as Empire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Why hadn’t Coos Bay produced a Nirvana of its own? Maybe it had decades earlier with Steve Prefontaine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A double knock on my window rousted me. Elmer bolted up from the back seat and barked. I looked left and beheld a woman with long red hair whipping in the wind and wearing a red hoodie with some unfamiliar animated character emblazoned across the chest. She had stepped back from the window and waved at me. I cracked the door open and said hello<\/em>. In no way did she seem addled. Her countenance displayed no evidence of hard drug use.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The gist of our conversation:<\/p>\n\n\n\n No, I didn’t have any ibuprofen.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n No, I didn’t have any smokes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Yes, I had a few bucks to spare.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She was homeless.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She owned no vehicle. She had no tent.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She was living near the boat ramp, sleeping in storefront doorways and alleys in Empire. She semi showered at the fish cleaning station but it smelled pretty bad.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n It was dangerous being a homeless woman alone.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She’d lived outdoors in Coos Bay for several years.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She’s struck out with social services and churches in an attempt to obtain shelter or housing.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She didn’t know if there was any shelter or housing in Coos Bay.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She was told by someone in social services that she had a criminal charge pending against her. The woman claimed she knew nothing about this matter. I believed her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She thought Elmer was a very handsome dog.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Her name was Darlene and she 53 years old.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I told Darlene I was thinking about buying a house in Empire. She wished me good luck. I said we might soon be neighbors. She smiled, thanked me for the cash, and walked away into the wind.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Elmer the husky and I snoozed in the car at the Empire Boat Ramp in Coos Bay. Before closing my eyes, I watched a man on the pier toss his crab trap into the water and saw a battered colorless sedan packed with possessions that was clearly a domicile. On the bay, spindrifts rose up, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9392,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1264,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9391","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-coos-bay","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9391","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9391"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9391\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9394,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9391\/revisions\/9394"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/9392"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9391"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9391"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9391"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}