Editor's Note: The Seattle Times refused to run Jean Godden's last column because "it would have been inappropriate," according to a spokesperson for the Times. We thought, after 20 years, Jean should get to say goodbye to her readers... or at least those Godden readers who also read our paper.
After 20 years of reporting on Seattle, my column has developed a life of its own. It's become my alter ego. And, when I resigned from the Seattle Times last Friday, figuring it was the decent thing to do after filing for Seattle City Council, the column went into a deep funk. It pouted and refused to speak to me. It took some pleading, but the column has consented to a final outing. Here are a few column-worthy items found in the dust when I cleared out my desk at the Seattle Times:
Desk set: Seattle Mayor Greg Nickels has been showing off his newly refinished desk at the new city hall. The desk was purchased, along with four other pieces of office furniture, by former Seattle Mayor Frank Edwards in 1928. Price at the time: $1,000. Locals were aghast at the expense. They called it "Hollywood furniture." (Later the mayor was recalled, but not over the furniture.) Nickels' refinished desk is a master work, all inlaid wood and intricately carved trim. Some say there are other pieces stashed around city hall. Wouldn't it be great if Nickels got Mayor Edwards' hat rack back?
Tourist trade: Pike Place Market has entered the high season, with tourists almost as thick as the fresh flowers. One of my favorite stories about tourists at the market: A couple was walking down the main concourse, looking at the floor tiles with names of people who contributed to the market's restoration campaign.
"Look at all these names," says the guy tourist.
"Yes," says his spouse. "Who'd think that many people would want to be buried here?"
Turnabout: A local politico reports receiving a call from a pollster Monday. The pollster asked for preferences in the Seattle City Council Position No.1 race, but butchered my name, pronouncing it "GOOD-n" instead of "GOD-n." Then during a final listing of candidates, my name was omitted. "You missed Godden," said the pol. "Oh, sorry," said the pollster. Whoever paid for the poll may want his/her money back.
Vanity fare: Last license plate to appear in a Godden column was tough to figure out. Before leaving the Times, I spent hours on the phone with readers who couldn't decipher the license (ADNF9TM) on a vintage VW van. What'd it say? My guess is it's the Latin phrase "ad infinitum." Will that van really last forever?
Postscript: If this turns out to be my last column, a few words of thanks. Writing a column is a wonderful privilege, a conversation between the columnist and the readers. This column stretched across two decades. The people who called, the sources I met, the beautiful people at openings, and the courtly street people who said, "Have a nice day, anyway"--I treasured and loved them all. To everyone who contributed items, to everyone who read the column: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Ad infinitum.
