Fort Worth's Panther Island Remains Toxic While Tacoma Exemplifies Civic Reinvention

On first glance my one long time reader may see the image you see here and wonder if this is the latest version of America's Biggest Boondoggle's imaginary island.

No, what you see here is real, not an embarrassingly phantom of the sort you can not see in that American backwater of Fort Worth, Texas.

I think that new medication that causes me to say what I really think must be kicking in.

During the same time frame Fort Worth has been boondoggling along, ineptly, with an ill-conceived, incompetently implemented, un-funded economic development scheme disguised as imaginary flood control, the relatively little (population-wise, compared to Fort Worth) Washington town of Tacoma has managed to produce two large developments along that town's actual real waterway of Commencement Bay.

There is the Thea Foss Waterway development at the south end of Commencement Bay, and the Point Ruston development at the north end of Commencement Bay.

Both projects dwarf Fort Worth's pitiful attempt to create a "water feature" for that town. I do not know all the funding details, but both projects did not lack funding in Tacoma. The Point Ruston project is mostly a private development, with some, I assume, public funding.

Both Tacoma projects have elements of the EPA superfund being involved.

Fort Worth's Trinity River Central City Uptown Panther Island District has never been voted on by the public, in an honest, legit way. The project relied on hiring the unqualified son of a Fort Worth politician as the project's executive director, in the hope mom would secure federal funding.

That has not worked out.

Hence Fort Worth's pitiful project, propagandized as a vitally needed flood control project, has been limping along for most of this century, with no end in sight. And with it highly unlikely that more prosperous parts of America will be sending money to Fort Worth to help pay for the town's ridiculous economic development scheme.

Meanwhile in Tacoma.

I saw that which you see above this morning in the Seattle Times, with the article headline From toxic site to green space: New Tacoma park exemplifies civic reinvention.

You can read the entire article to get the entire gist. You who are reading this in Fort Worth and are victims of America's Biggest Boondoggle, read the article and see how many bits of info are not of the sort one would read in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram about the Trinity River Vision.

I will just use the last paragraph of the article as an example...

Dune Peninsula park is every bit the vision presented to Tacoma voters before the 2014 bond election that promised a fresh destination-quality landmark. It is an example for communities throughout Washington of how the legacy of one era can be reinvented as a resource for future ones.

Wow! Imagine that? A real vision presented to a town's voters, in an actual bond election of the sort which happens in modern America, passed in 2014, the year Fort Worth had an idiotic TNT exploding celebration to celebrate the start of construction of three simple little bridges being built over dry land to connect the Fort Worth mainland to an imaginary island.

And now, five years later, those Fort Worth bridges are nothing but eyesores, with no end in sight, while in an American town wearing its big city pants the people are enjoying the results of what they approved via the voting method.

What a revolutionary concept...

Touring With Spencer Jack & Grandpa Jake To Great Lake With Shrinking Viaduct

Spencer Jack and his grandpa have been taking me on some virtual tripping the past several days.

With Spencer Jack and his Jason dad in various locations in the Wisconsin part of America, while Spencer Jack's grandpa has been taking me to various locations in our old home state of Washington.

Earlier today I blogged about grandpa Jake in Seattle, after he asked me when I was last at that location, with the precise question not clear as to its precise meaning.

This afternoon fresh photo documentation arrived on my phone from both the Spencer Jack entourage and Grandpa Jake.

Both instances of photo documentation were sparse with the verbal details.

For instance that photo you see of Spencer Jack standing on a beach at the edge of what looks to be a lake simply said "Beautiful day at the lake."

This looks like a really great lake, likely one of the Great Lakes, most likely Lake Michigan, since I was previously informed that that particular Great Lake was going to be visited.

The next photo was a bit more informative, saying "Spencer and I at the Miller Brewery sampling product and finding a souvenir for Grandma Cindy."

And then the next photo, though free of any explanatory text seems to indicate Spencer Jack had found the appropriate Miller Brewery souvenir for Grandma Cindy.

Now, let's leave Wisconsin behind and head back west to Washington and Grandpa Jake.

The text with the above photo from Grandpa Jake simply said "And the Alaskan Way Viaduct. Which is coming down."

This is rather convincing evidence that Grandpa Jake does not read this blog, what with the number of times mention has been made of the Alaskan Way Viaduct and that other aspect of that project, that being the world's biggest boring machine's digging a tunnel under downtown Seattle.

Which is a public works project which began boring in 2014, the same year Fort Worth had a TNT exploding ceremony to celebrate the start of construction of three simple little bridges, built over dry land, with a then astonishing four year project timeline, now extended into the next decade.

While the new tunnel under Seattle has been completed and in use for months now, and with the Alaskan Way Viaduct almost all removed, followed by the rebuilding of the Seattle Waterfront.

In Grandpa Jake's above photo you can see remains of the Viaduct on the left, with the new open space on the right, where the Viaduct is now long gone.

I wonder if Grandpa Jake made his way up the Pike Street Hillclimb, and then ventured to see the Amazon Spheres. Ruby took me to see the Amazon Spheres the last time I was in Seattle. They were not yet open at that point in time. I believe they are now completed and open. But, I do not know if they are open to the public.

Well, I wonder where Spencer Jack and Grandpa Jake are gonna take me next?

Grandpa Jake In Seattle Remembering Kurt Cobain & Elvis

Incoming to my phone this morning from Spencer Jack and Hank Frank's grandpa, who is also my baby brother, Jake.

Jake is currently escaping the warmth of Arizona's Valley of the Sun by enjoying the record breaking heat of the Pacific Northwest.

The text that was attached to this photo asked...

"When were you last here?"

Well.

I am not sure what location, precisely, Jake is referring to with the word "here".

I can see Jake is on a ferry boat, in Elliott Bay. Which would make that the skyline of downtown Seattle behind him. The Space Needle on the far left is a major clue.

If by "here" Jake is asking when I've last been to Seattle, the answer to that would be a couple times during August of 2017.

If by "here" Jake is asking when I've last been on a ferry boat in Elliott Bay, I think I may also know the answer to that question, precisely, even though the date is way back in the previous century.

April 5, 1994, to be exact.

Why would I remember that date?

Well.

On that day Jake's two sons, my favorite nephews Jason and Joey, took me to Seattle where we rode the ferry to Bainbridge Island. While on that ferry Joey saw a big headline in the Seattle Times.

NIRVANA'S COBAIN DEAD

Joey read enough of the story to quickly deduce Kurt Cobain had killed himself. Joey was particularly upset at this news, asking his favorite uncle why Kurt Cobain would do such a thing. I had no answer.

And then Joey and Jason told me something I did not know previously, or had forgotten. That being whilst their cousin Alan was a teacher in, if I remember right, Montesano, he taught Kurt Cobain in 7th grade.

And so this is why I know the date I last rode a Washington ferry.

And on another death of an American music icon note, with the news learned on a Washington ferry.

On August 16, 1977, before Jason, Joey, Spencer Jack and Hank Frank joined the earth's population, I ferried with grandpa Jake from Anacortes to Friday Harbor on San Juan Island, on a product delivery run.

We were not long out of the Anacortes port when we learned Elvis had died. I do not remember if this was learned via a newspaper headline, or an announcement over the public address system. I suspect the latter.

Anyway, I hope this answers Spencer Jack and Hank Frank's grandpa's "When were you last here?" question..

Walk About Wichita Falls Takes Me Back To Fort Worth Numskullery

I opted to take a long walk today along the streets north of my abode.

I opted such due to the fact that big trees with a lot of leaves provide shade from the sun which was in blistering mode in the noon time frame.

When I walk in my neighborhood I almost can imagine I am back in modern America, what with sidewalks lining the streets, with grassy medians between the sidewalks and the streets.

What a concept.

I long lamented the fact that my previous Texas location, Fort Worth, somehow missed the memo that to be considered, well, a modern town, one needs to have sidewalks along most of your town's streets.

Along with Fort Worth also missing the memo which pointed out that outhouses are not a good idea in a city park in modern America, or anywhere in the world thinking it is part of the modern world.

I have not been to Fort Worth's Gateway Park in at least a year. That park has been sort of being upgraded by the ongoing embarrassment now known as America's Biggest Boondoggle, or the Trinity River Central City Uptown Panther Island District Vision.

When I last visited Gateway Park I was impressed that the number of outhouses had increased. Stand alone outhouses, not more high end concrete enclosed outhouses such as what graces to soccer fields.

Why can the incompetents who run Fort Worth in what is known as the Fort Worth Way not get it through their thick noggins that when trying to attract a corporation or business to locate headquarters in your town it does not make a good impression when the inquiring visitor sees miles of streets with no sidewalks, parks with outhouses, freeway exits with zero landscaping, but plenty of weeds and litter and a park homage to the town's heritage a boarded up eyesore blighting the town's downtown for well over a decade.?

So perplexing...

Spencer Jack & Jason Train Wisconsin Dells In Trumped Disguise

Incoming email from Spencer Jack and Jason from Wisconsin.

The email included three photos, one of which is extremely disturbing.

We shall copy the text from the email, and put it in italics, so as to differentiate the Jason text from the non-italicized comments from Spencer Jack and Jason's Favorite Uncle D...


Spencer and I hopped aboard Amtrak’s Empire Builder this morning in downtown St. Paul‘s Union Station for a 4 hour journey east to Wisconsin Dells.

(Ironically the Train we took left King Street Station two hours before we left Sea Tac on Sunday)

Okay, I must explain the irony to which Jason refers. King Street Station is the downtown Seattle Amtrak station, near the location of the now long gone Kingdome. Amtrak's Empire Builder left Seattle two hours before Spencer Jack and Jason flew out of Sea-Tac, and today, two days later, they are boarding the same train for a four hour ride to Wisconsin Dells. I hope I translated the irony accurately.

We were seated with an entire family of Northern Indiana Amish folk.  The Amish children were the most well behaved children I have ever met.

Those must have been some extremely well behaved children. I mean, Jason has met David, Theo and Ruby. Those are the most well behaved children I have ever met. Well, those three, and Spencer Jack.

Spencer spent the afternoon water sliding.

We will be residing here for two nights before driving ourselves to Lake Michigan on Thursday.

And now that aforementioned disturbing photo, and the text which explains it...

Upon arrival into the red state of Wisconsin, I made a quick wardrobe change to fit in with the locals.

This really is inexcusable. I mean really. If Spencer Jack and Jason were riding a train from Amsterdam to Berlin in 1936 would Jason buy himself a NAZI t-shirt to better fit in with the locals?

Well, I guess maybe he would.

Wisconsin is just barely red, isn't it? Probably blue by now. I would hope...

Grandpa Jake Fog Free Seeing Volcano Hank Frank & Ralph

Hank Frank's grandpa's fog has lifted, so he can see clearly now.

That basically was the text which accompanied the photo you see here, which arrived this morning on my phone.

Yesterday I talked to Hank Frank's great-grandma who told me she thought Hank Frank's grandpa, Jake, was currently at the Fancy/Clancy Compound on Hood Canal.

I told Hank Frank's great-grandma I had already had confirmation of Hank Frank's grandpa's location.

In today's fog free photo from grandpa Jake, in addition to the Hood Canal, we see another thing one can not see no matter which direction one looks.

A volcano.

This particular volcano, in the center of the photo, is the biggest one in Washington, Mount Rainier.

Tacoma, that being the location of my favorite nephews David and Theo, and my one and only favorite niece, Ruby, is between grandpa Jake's current location and Mount Rainier.

The mountain hovers much larger when it pops into view when one is driving around Tacoma.

After sending me the photo documentation of his current fog-free view grandpa Jake sent the photo you see below.

The text which accompanied this photo said "Hank Frank, with Ralph, and Hank Frank's dad."

Hank Frank's dad is my favorite nephew Joey, also known as FJ2.

FJ1 is Hank Frank's uncle Jason.

I have not heard from FJ1 and Spencer Jack today. I assume they are still having fun in the Mall of America, or have moved on to the Wisconsin Dells.

Relative Mystery With Spencer Jack Logging In Wisconsin With Wichita Falls Suspension

On Father's Day Spencer Jack's grandpa told me that Spencer Jack was taking his dad, later that day, to Bloomington, Minnesota, to go to the Mall of America, among other destinations, such as the Wisconsin Dells.

This morning, when I woke up my computer and checked email, the first I saw was from Spencer Jack's dad, telling me that when they checked in to the Embassy Suites in Bloomington the front desk operator, after Jason said his last name, asked if he was James or Jason.

What, said Jason, there is a relative staying here? The front desk person told Jason he could not divulge details. Jason deduced that this must be Uncle Mooch and Aunt Jane's eldest, James, also known as Neil. We last saw Uncle Mooch and Aunt Jane, along with Neil's sister, Amy, when we were in the Lynden zone, in Washington, August of 2017.

Jason asked me if I could see if I could get the phone number of James Neil from Uncle Mooch. So, I messaged Aunt Jane, knowing she monitors all of Uncle Mooch's social media activity, repeated what Jason had told me. And then Aunt Jane got right back to me with the shocking info that Neil was not in Wisconsin, that he and his wife had been dealing with stolen credit cards since Friday.

Yikes.

When I got that info from Aunt Jane I called Jason, who had just received the text message from me with the asked for phone number. Jason was just about to text his cousin to ask if he wanted to meet in the hotel breakfast bar, when I called.

I do not know if law enforcement is yet involved, arresting the perp using the stolen credit card.

A couple hours later Jason and Spencer Jack texted me a couple photos, including the one you see above, of Spencer Jack on a log ride, I assume in the amusement park part of the Mall of America.

Meanwhile, in Texas this morning there is no mall I could go to to ride a log in an amusement park.

So, I did the next best thing and drove to Lucy Park, which has drained, for the most part, from the recent flooding.

The Wichita River has dropped low enough to allow the re-opening of the Lucy Park Wichita River amusement park theme ride known as the Suspension Bridge.

The river was only about a foot under the bridge, and moving fast.

As you can see via the foliage in the photo, the Wichita Falls version of North Texas remains in lush green jungle mode.

Somehow, though, I think the Wisconsin Dells might be a bit more scenic...

Happy Father's Day In A Fog

Around noon this Father's Day Sunday I sent out Happy Father's Day text messages to all the Father's in my phone.

Well, almost all of them.

One of the replies to those Happy Father's Day messages was from Hank Frank's Father, Joey, who sent me the pic you see here.

That is Hank Frank's grandpa, Jake, you see him reading to.

In the Happy Father's Day text message to Hank Frank's grandpa I asked if he would be seeing Hank Frank's dad, Joey, and Spencer Jack's dad, Jason, today.

The reply was in the negative, that grandpa Jake was spending Father's Day in a fog in Hoodsport, whilst Joey was at home in the Skagit Valley and Jason was at the Mall of America.

Soon thereafter Jason called and I learned he was not yet in Wisconsin, that he and Spencer Jack were flying out of Sea-Tac later today, heading to that aforementioned mall, and to the Wisconsin Dells, and Lake Michigan, in no particular order.

Meanwhile I have not received a single call, text message, email or card wishing me a Happy Father's Day today....

Grandpa Jake's Clams Steam Us Back To Washington

Incoming from Washington this Saturday afternoon, sent by Spencer Jack and Hank Frank's grandpa Jake, who is also my baby brother.

What we are looking at here is a kettle full of clams getting steamed.

The text accompanying this photo...

"Do you eat many steamers in Texas?"

I replied "No. In Texas they think catfish and crawdads are seafood, but actual seafood does exist, even oysters. Raw oysters. I've never been able to work up the courage to swallow a raw Texas oyster."

Actually I do not remember ever eating steamers when I lived in Washington.

Mom and dad did not go digging for steamers. On a low enough tide we would join the throngs out on Samish Island to dig for horse clams, and an occasional geoduck. Along with wading out in the tide to hunt for dungeness crab.

Once or twice or thrice or more times a year we would go to the Ocean Shores zone on the Pacific to join the thousands digging for razor clams when the tide was low enough.

Razor clams were about the only type clam I ever had much success digging. Due to one did not have to use a shovel to free that particular type clam from the sand.

With razor clams you can use a tube type device to extract the clam. You see a dimple in the sand indicating a clam, you center the tube around the dimple, then push the tube as deep as you can manage, with air compressing and blowing out a hole in the top of the tube.

When you think you've gone deep enough you plug the hole with your thumb, then pull the tube out. Which is a feat which can be a bit of a struggle.

And then when you get the tube free you shake out the sand and if you are successful a razor clam also falls out.

Mom and dad were at Ocean Shores digging razor clams the morning Mount St. Helens erupted. That location was closer to the volcano than where I was when it blew up. I do not remember mom and dad saying they heard the explosion. The Pacific ocean can be a bit noisy, with crashing waves maybe cancelling out the boom of an exploding volcano.

But, I do remember mom and dad saying game wardens or other law enforcement used loudspeakers to tell people to get to higher ground off the beach, because the mountain had blown. I suppose the fear was that it might trigger a tsunami somehow. Ironically, back then the Washington Pacific coast did not have Tsunami Evacuation directional signs like now exist.

Nowadays Washington even has Volcano Eruption Evacuation directional signs. I've seen those in the Tacoma zone. Mount Rainier looms large by Tacoma. That and one of that volcano's glacier melt streams flows right into Tacoma's Commencement Bay.

Washington seems to be a much more dangerous state to live in than the one I am currently living in. What with the possibility of exploding mountains and tsunamis. There is not a mountain that could explode for many a mile from my current location. Let alone a tsunami.

However, tornadoes can be a bit troublesome. That and way too many right wing nut jobs...

Spencer Jack & Hank Frank's Grandpa Jake Hood Canal Cooling

This morning I texted Spencer Jack and Hank Frank's grandpa, Jake, to ask if he was still up in the Great Pacific Northwest enjoying the current record breaking heat wave.

A couple seconds later the phone made its incoming message noise indicating an incoming message, which is that which you see here, along with a few words saying "Cooled off today. I understand you're heading back to Hell...."

I replied that I had also heard that I was heading back to Hell rumor and confirmed it was true.

What Spencer Jack and Hank Frank's dad does not know, because he has never experienced it, is my current location is also Hell, as in HOT humid Hell. This location is even known as "Hotter 'n Hell' with a bike race celebrating that fact, which attract bikers from all over the world each August.

When I saw grandpa Jake's photo I was not sure what I was looking at, til I gave it some thought.

I think this is likely the Fancy/Clancy Compound overlooking Hood Canal. I know spending some incarceration time at this location is part of grandpa Jake's agenda. I have no idea why there are two pairs of chairs sitting on what looks like gravel, with a potted plant here and there.

When I realized that that was likely Hood Canal being the body of water in the distance that got me thinking that I had never thought to wonder why Hood Canal is so named.

Not the Hood part, but the Canal part of the name.

Hood Canal is a fairly wide body of water, though narrow enough for a long floating bridge to cross it at its northern end. I do not remember any part of Hood Canal which might be some sort of manmade canal of the Erie, St. Lawrence, Panama sort.

I was mortified at the thought that my old home state had misnomer-ed something as being a canal when it was not a canal, such as I had long been mortified for frequently occurring in my previous abode location of Fort Worth.

Where for years the downtown was called Sundance Square, where there was no square, confusing the town's few tourists, til finally a small square was built, and then goofily named Sundance Square Plaza, with other signs still pointing to the non-existent Sundance Square.

Or calling an industrial wasteland "Panther Island" long before a cement lined ditch cuts that wasteland off from the Fort Worth mainland.

And even then, calling such a thing an island is embarrassing.

It just occurred to me, even though I really don't like giving those TRVA dimwits ideas, but how about calling that cement lined ditch, which may never ever get dug, Panther Canal? Ain't that catchy?

Which leads me back to Hood Canal. I Googled Hood Canal and clicked on the Wikipedia Hood Canal article where I learned...

"Hood Canal is a fjord forming the western lobe, and one of the four main basins of Puget Sound in the state of Washington. It is one of the minor bodies of water that constitute the Salish Sea. Hood Canal is not a canal in the sense of being a man-made waterway—it is a natural waterway."

Well, there you go, after all these years of living on this planet I finally learn that Hood Canal is not a man-made waterway, it's a natural waterway.

Meanwhile in Fort Worth, oh, why bother.

But I can not help but wonder how long it took Washington to build that floating bridge which floats over actual water, deep fast moving tidal water. I suspect it was way less than four years. Because, I remember when the original Hood Canal floating bridge sank during a storm, the replacement did not take four years.

Meanwhile in Fort Worth, oh, again, why bother...