Essay:
By Patricia L. Herlevi
In 1986, similar to prospectors of a hundred years earlier, I left Bellingham and headed to Seattle where I hoped to strike gold in the emerging music industry. I had written my first few songs, had a decent voice and my guitar playing had improved during college. I took one last look at Bellingham as my car glided onto Interstate-5--leaving Georgia Pacific and my university years in the dust. I possessed no knowledge of Bellingham’s history, of its boom and bust years, and its pioneers who stripped the hills of giant cedars and diminished salmon populations in the name of commerce. Yet, I too felt strained after breathing in pollutants for four years.
In the years after Bellingham and I parted, both the city and I underwent a transformation including, a “green” makeover. Bellingham and I dealt with the impact of polluting industries on our respective bodies. During the late 1990s, in Seattle, my music career came to an end when I began suffering from an environmental illness akin to a canary sent into a coal mine. At the same time, my eyes opened to the natural beauty around me. While petrochemicals and cigarette smoke wreaked havoc on my lungs, nervous and immune systems, my environmental awareness grew. An internal protest occurred inside my body, removing me from mainstream thinking and toward the hopes of a greener future, one I wouldn’t find in Seattle, snarled in heavy traffic. Whereas before I prospected for fame with a music career that left me planted in the material world, these days I crave a deeper connection to nature where I find solace.
Eventually, after enduring two decades of Seattle’s growing pains, I relocated to Mount Vernon in 2007, having heard the call of the mighty Skagit. Earlier, I started a tradition of walking a labyrinth to end the year. After researching labyrinths in the area, I found a good one in Bellingham. I had not set foot in Bellingham for 21 years, and I still remembered the sulfur-tinged air and empty storefronts in the decimated downtown of the 1980s. When I stepped off the bus, I felt disoriented by an abundance of mom & pop businesses that developed in my absence. The city’s vibrant makeover with its brightly painted homes left me close to tears. Seeking a landmark in this new land, I searched the skyline for the Moorish tower of Mount Baker Theatre and the unforgettable Second Empire style building, which houses the Whatcom History and Art Museum.
The new Bellingham reminded me of the high school geek who undergoes a makeover transforming him into an unrecognizable heartthrob. While I might have looked over Bellingham in the past, the city now drew me to it; this attraction revived my hopes of preserving a delicate balance between the city’s supernatural beauty and the emergence of a green economy. However, the flirtation phase between the city and me lasted nearly four years before I decided to commit. The city and I reunited under a joint cause...
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By Patricia L. Herlevi
In 1986, similar to prospectors of a hundred years earlier, I left Bellingham and headed to Seattle where I hoped to strike gold in the emerging music industry. I had written my first few songs, had a decent voice and my guitar playing had improved during college. I took one last look at Bellingham as my car glided onto Interstate-5--leaving Georgia Pacific and my university years in the dust. I possessed no knowledge of Bellingham’s history, of its boom and bust years, and its pioneers who stripped the hills of giant cedars and diminished salmon populations in the name of commerce. Yet, I too felt strained after breathing in pollutants for four years.
In the years after Bellingham and I parted, both the city and I underwent a transformation including, a “green” makeover. Bellingham and I dealt with the impact of polluting industries on our respective bodies. During the late 1990s, in Seattle, my music career came to an end when I began suffering from an environmental illness akin to a canary sent into a coal mine. At the same time, my eyes opened to the natural beauty around me. While petrochemicals and cigarette smoke wreaked havoc on my lungs, nervous and immune systems, my environmental awareness grew. An internal protest occurred inside my body, removing me from mainstream thinking and toward the hopes of a greener future, one I wouldn’t find in Seattle, snarled in heavy traffic. Whereas before I prospected for fame with a music career that left me planted in the material world, these days I crave a deeper connection to nature where I find solace.
Eventually, after enduring two decades of Seattle’s growing pains, I relocated to Mount Vernon in 2007, having heard the call of the mighty Skagit. Earlier, I started a tradition of walking a labyrinth to end the year. After researching labyrinths in the area, I found a good one in Bellingham. I had not set foot in Bellingham for 21 years, and I still remembered the sulfur-tinged air and empty storefronts in the decimated downtown of the 1980s. When I stepped off the bus, I felt disoriented by an abundance of mom & pop businesses that developed in my absence. The city’s vibrant makeover with its brightly painted homes left me close to tears. Seeking a landmark in this new land, I searched the skyline for the Moorish tower of Mount Baker Theatre and the unforgettable Second Empire style building, which houses the Whatcom History and Art Museum.
The new Bellingham reminded me of the high school geek who undergoes a makeover transforming him into an unrecognizable heartthrob. While I might have looked over Bellingham in the past, the city now drew me to it; this attraction revived my hopes of preserving a delicate balance between the city’s supernatural beauty and the emergence of a green economy. However, the flirtation phase between the city and me lasted nearly four years before I decided to commit. The city and I reunited under a joint cause...
Buy the book at http://www.historypress.net