Portland’s city government wants to have it both ways when it comes to Susan Mottet, director of the city’s Small Donor Elections program.

Mottet approached a signature gatherer for the Safer Portland initiative, the ballot measure that would redirect a portion of Portland Clean Energy Fund revenues to hire additional police officers. When she asked to see the full text of the measure, while capturing the encounter on her cellphone, she did so, she says, out of “civic duty.”

She later submitted that footage as part of a formal complaint to the Oregon Secretary of State’s Office and the Portland auditor, aimed at invalidating signatures collected by ordinary Portlanders who had volunteered or been paid to gather them.

When the controversy erupted, the office of deputy city administrator Tracy Warren offered a tidy explanation: Mottet was “off work and acting as a private citizen” and operating in “a private capacity.”

That framing doesn’t survive contact with the facts.

Job and act inseparable

The issue is not whether Mottet was on the clock. It is whether her actions were inseparable from her position, expertise and public role as the city’s director of the Small Donor Elections program.

They clearly were not separable.

Mottet is not a random Portlander who happened to have a smartphone. Her own justification for the recording invokes exactly the kind of institutional authority the “private citizen” defense is supposed to disclaim. She told The Oregonian/OregonLive she was upholding “the integrity of our democracy,” language that reaches for the credibility of her office and asks the public to trust her precisely because of the position she was in that moment disclaiming.

Most private citizens do not possess specialized knowledge of election laws, understand exactly what evidence is needed to support an election complaint or enjoy the credibility that comes from serving as one of the city’s senior elections officials. Mottet’s actions carried weight precisely because of the office she holds—not despite it.

That distinction matters. Public officials do not leave behind the trust and credibility attached to their offices simply because they are no longer at their desks.

She was the city’s administrator of a public campaign finance program, using knowledge, expertise and credibility gained through that role to collect and submit evidence in a dispute involving one side of a contentious political campaign.

Reputational weight follows her title

Video from a city elections official became evidence in a complaint to a state office and a city auditor. That fact alone is why this is a story at all. Portland Elections Commission chair Amy Sample Ward defended Mottet by pointing directly to her professional standing, calling her “a trusted source that cares deeply about the integrity of our elections” because of her “deep knowledge and expertise on electoral laws and regulations.”

Even her defenders are pointing to professional standing, not her status as an anonymous citizen.

That is the central contradiction. The city cannot simultaneously argue that Mottet’s office makes her more credible while also arguing that her office is irrelevant when evaluating her conduct.

Calling this “private capacity” lets Mottet’s professional credibility do all the work of legitimizing the video while insulating the city from having to account for it as an act of a sitting elections official. It collects the benefits of her office—the trust the public extends to it— without the accountability that should come with carrying that trust.

Government officials may be subject to ethical obligations even when off duty if their conduct is closely connected to their official responsibilities. Election officials are held to an especially high standard because public confidence rests on their neutrality.

The public expects elections officials to administer the rules fairly, not to turn the machinery of their office against one side in a political campaign.

Question about even-handedness

There’s another question before anyone accepts the “civic duty” framing at face value: Has Mottet applied this same scrutiny evenhandedly across this election cycle, or has she reserved her attention for one target? Did she do any comparable fact-checking, filming or disclosure assessment regarding canvassers for other ballot measures this year, such as the participatory budgeting initiative, one of whose canvassers told me the money was for “potholes,” or the animal rights initiative whose canvassers repeatedly who repeatedly refused when asked to tell me that the measure wouldn’t ban Portland restaurants from selling Oregon seafood and shellfish. (It would have).

If not, that’s a double standard, plain and simple. It would suggest this was a targeted effort directed at one particular campaign whose policy goals are politically controversial in Portland. One standard applied to an initiative she happened to oppose, and no comparable scrutiny applied to others, would create the appearance that official expertise was selectively deployed against one group of citizens.

Government neutrality does not simply mean following the law. It means not putting your thumb on the scale for one group of citizens exercising their right to petition, and avoiding any sign of favoritism.

Labeling Mottet a “private citizen” doesn’t resolve the ethical questions — it dodges them.

Her expertise, credibility and influence exist because Portland entrusted her with administering an important part of the city’s elections system. That trust was given to her for the benefit of every Portlander who wants to bring an idea to the ballot. Those duties do not disappear when she leaves the office for the day.

Whether Mottet technically violated any city policy is a separate question.

The larger issue is public trust. Portland residents are entitled to doubt whether the city’s elections apparatus is impartial. Because public confidence in elections depends on the appearance of fairness, and that appearance has now been compromised.

Northwest Portland resident Bob Weinstein is a former special education teacher, school superintendent and U.S. Senate staffer who served for 18 years as both a council member and mayor in Ketchikan, Alaska.

Cycle Town Coffee Roasters, 1626 NW Thurman St., is tucked inside a vault in the former Steven Smith Teamaker space. Not literally a vault, but it’s definitely a secret hideaway. An excellent off-the-menu drink was prepared when I asked for an espresso tonic, which is sparkling water water, a shot of espresso and orange flower water. Get one here or try the orange blossom espresso tonic at Sister’s Coffee with cardamon foam.

Normally I prefer Gen-X coffee drinks with standard milk. But I set my generational values aside to fetch my daughter an iced oat milk matcha beverage from the very pleasant Abba, 525 NW 11th Ave. She said, ‘This is good, where’d you get it,’ and headed out the door before I could reply.

By Jason Jordan

Ken Thrasher and Phil Keisling are right about one thing: Oregon’s Bottle Bill deserves to be even stronger (“We’re calling for a pause—and reset—on Oregon’s Bottle Bill”).

On that, we agree completely. Where we part ways is on the idea that a pause is the path to get there.

The work they’re calling for is already underway, and stopping now would be a critical step back for our state. The Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative has spent the past several years listening to neighbors, retailers, community organizations and local leaders. We’ve heard the concerns about Delta Park. We’ve heard from neighborhoods worried about where redemption activity concentrates and what that brings with it. We take those concerns seriously, which is why we are taking action.

Delta Park is closing at the end of July. Additionally, we collaborated with a broad stakeholder coalition to pass SB 992, legislation designed to modernize the Bottle Bill and redemption system and create new models for access.

We are working to expand our green and blue bag programs, which let Oregonians use their deposit to donate to charities or convert it to retail credit. These programs offer a more convenient way to redeem containers, letting people drop off a full bag in seconds rather than using the reverse vending machines at retail partner locations. We are also providing financial support for the People’s Depot, a new brick-and-mortar redemption site opening in Southeast Portland operated by a community partner, not OBRC.

We are also starting to evaluate cashless redemption options. That pilot may have an initial launch at the new People’s Depot location, and we hope to expand it in the future. Thrasher and Keisling make a reasonable argument around the issues with cash payouts, and we share the goal of reducing immediate cash payouts from the system.

However, eliminating cash entirely requires care. Thousands depend on deposit redemptions to afford basic necessities. Any transition must bring those Oregonians with us, not leave them behind. Non-cash alternatives such as EBT credits, gift cards and utility offsets are worth pursuing, and we remain open to that conversation.

On transparency: OBRC’s model is an asset. No state dollars fund this system. We publish regular financial and impact reports. We welcome scrutiny and are prepared to engage with any stakeholder who wants to understand our model.

Portland is going through a crisis, and the stress it places on public-facing services is real. Bottle redemption, like public libraries and transit, bears a disproportionate share of that burden. The answer is to keep solving for the real crisis, not to step back from services that Oregonians across the income spectrum rely on.

We didn’t get 55 years out of the Bottle Bill by standing still. We got here by adapting. That’s exactly what we’re doing now, and we’d welcome Ken and Phil as partners in that work.

Jason Jordan is the president and CEO of the Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative, which operates BottleDrop and is the steward of the Bottle Bill.

Charter reform washed in on a wave of voter disdain for Portland’s outdated commission form of government. The new charter was supposed to cure many ills, largely by breaking down the bureaucratic silos that insulated and isolated the entities running the city.

In the previous system, city commissioners defended and advocated for the bureaus assigned to them while generally tolerating whatever was going on in the other bureaus, a reciprocal understanding loosening accountability all the way around. At budget time, commissioners tended to seek funding increases in their own portfolios and sat still for such requests from their colleagues in quid pro quo fashion.

But nearly two years into the new system, silos are as impenetrable as ever. Bureaus rule themselves, and council members can do little more than talk about it. The mayor and city administrator should be providing direction—calling for audits in many cases—but they haven’t risen to the task. If they utter stern words in private, the department heads on the receiving end aren’t getting the message.

A few examples:

The park that never comes—the Slabtown Park at Northwest 20th and Pettygrove that was supposed to be built about a decade ago—finally got some attention. Portland Parks & Recreation now wants to form a focus group to guide the design of the park, to be followed by forums of the kind we’ve seen many times before. Highlights are displayed on easels at drop-in events. People can jot brief suggestions on sticky notes, which are later tabulated in some way. The connection between input and final decisions is nebulous.

A government committed to citizen participation would draw community members into deliberations at the onset to set goals for the project, setting the direction before city staff and consultants begin setting the parameters. In this case, a consultant was hired—without input from the neighborhood—to propose designs that citizens will merely react to.

This hasty process of circumventing neighborhood involvement was defended as a time-saving measure. After a decade of delay, the city now says no time can be spared to hear the community’s goals.

I have written many times about how the Northwest Parking Stakeholders Advisory Committee chases its tail while the Portland Bureau of Transportation picks the local improvement projects it pleases.

A couple of years ago, PBOT staff defined the roles of these citizen advisers:

Involve – Discussion is prioritized so concerns and aspirations are understood.

Consult – Feedback is collected on analysis, alternatives or decisions.

Inform – We will keep you informed by providing balanced and objective information.

In other words, the greatest weight the city will give citizen input is to understand the message. In other cases, citizens can do no more than listen.

Disrespect for citizen engagement starts with undermining Portland’s national model neighborhood system. The head of the Office of Community and Civic Life, responsible for what was once that neighborhood system, proposed abruptly dumping the complex relationship between City Hall and neighborhood associations for new rules dictated by the city administrator. Fortunately, that director is now gone.

But the city administrator now calls the shots on the future of Civic Life. City Administrator Raymond Lee has paused the unilateral reconstruction of the program, but its future is a mystery.

And the bureaus carry on in their silos beneath the kerfuffle. Deputy city administrators now oversee specific bureaus instead of a city commissioner, who was at least familiar with the departments and had to take the heat when things went sideways.

I had to look up the deputy administrator for transportation and for parks. That would be Priya Dhanapal, whose contact information is not on the city website. It took a 311 call to reach her assistant, but I have gotten no response to my questions as to how Dhanapal knows whether her bureaus are effective or responsive to community concerns. Her calendar is full of appointments with city officials, but I have never seen her at a neighborhood meeting.

We have replaced silos with a new layer of management, isolated from the public and insulated from accountability. At least, in the old system, we knew the names of the people in charge. We could vote them out.

What do we do with these mid-level managers we can’t find and who may never hear our grievances?

Save the Keller forces are raising the voice of a former member of the Metropolitan Exposition Recreation Commission, which has operated the Keller Auditorium and other Portland venues since 1990.

"As wonderful as all-new facilities are, they cannot address what happens to the venues being abandoned,” said Gary Conkling. “They are plus-one, minus-one bargains. If downtown Portland was in a better place, maybe that bargain would be more appealing. At the moment, have a hulking vacant building with no foreseeable purpose is untenable.

“Shiny new things can be dazzling. Remodeling a cultural fixture can be rewarding. Figuring out what to do with an abandoned building can be mind-numbing.

“Renovation is temporary. Abandonment can be permanent,” Conkling said.

Karen Whitman, executive director of Halprin Landscape Conservancy, which is leading the campaign to Save the Keller, presented a broader overview recently:

Portland has spent the last few years having difficult conversations about priorities.

We’ve debated cuts to parks, public safety, homeless services and transportation. Every budget season, city leaders tell us the same thing: There isn’t enough money.

So why are we suddenly entertaining a proposal that could commit taxpayers to nearly a billion dollars for performing arts facilities?

This latest recommended plan for Broadway exceeds the $600 million dollar debate of the Moda Center and Blazers – yet has received far less public discourse.

It’s time to start paying attention, because this billion-dollar Broadway bet is now the latest financial question before the Portland City Council.

Recently, the Mayor’s advisory committee recommended building a new Broadway-capable theater at Portland State University before eventually downsizing and fully renovating Keller Auditorium. On paper, it sounds like an ambitious vision for Portland’s arts future.

In reality, it asks taxpayers to make an extraordinary financial commitment without answering the most basic question first: Who’s paying for it, and how?

When the costs of the proposed PSU theater complex are combined with renovating the Keller afterward, the total approaches $1 billion. Yet no financing plan has been presented. No public discussion has explained how the city, county, state or taxpayers would absorb a project of that magnitude while Portland struggles to maintain the infrastructure and services it already has.

This is no longer a debate about Keller versus PSU. It’s a debate about fiscal responsibility.

Supporters frame this as an investment in the arts. We support investing in the arts, too. But responsible investment starts by asking whether a project is necessary, affordable and supported by evidence. On all three counts, this proposal falls short.

First, there is no crisis requiring immediate replacement of the Keller.

The building is aging, but it remains functional, heavily used and profitable. Broadway Across America recently signed a new seven-year agreement that keeps productions at the Keller through 2033. If the building were truly incapable of supporting Broadway, that contract would not exist.

Second, the city has never studied the very scenario now being recommended.

The consultants hired by Portland concluded there was insufficient market demand for two Broadway-capable venues operating simultaneously. Yet the recommendation now before City Council creates precisely the kind of two-venue system that has never been analyzed for market demand, operating costs or long-term financial sustainability.

Finally, the proposal creates enormous uncertainty for the Keller itself.

Broadway would move to PSU first. Only afterward would the city attempt to renovate and shrink the Keller. But there is no cost estimate for that renovation. No funding source. No schedule. No guarantee it ever happens. The most likely outcome is inaction and years of uncertainty surrounding one of Portland’s most important civic assets.

The Keller is often called a cash cow, because it not only pays for itself but also helps subsidize other Portland’5 Centers for the Arts venues. Because the city owns the Keller, Portland needs a real plan to protect both the venue and the broader arts ecosystem.

There is a better path.

Instead of making a billion-dollar commitment the city cannot currently afford, Portland should make a modest investment of $10 million to $15 million over the next several years to address deferred maintenance, keeping the Keller operational and economically successful for the next decade.

This “Affordable Fix” is not about lowering our ambitions. It’s about matching our ambitions with reality.

It allows Broadway to remain downtown, preserves the Keller’s role in supporting Portland’s performing arts system, avoids years of disruption, and gives the city time to answer the questions that remain unanswered today.

Just as importantly, it allows Portland to see how new private entertainment venues coming online next year affect demand before committing hundreds of millions of additional public dollars.

Great cities don’t become great by chasing every ambitious idea. They become great by making disciplined decisions. Portland has no shortage of worthy projects competing for scarce public dollars. Roads need repair. Parks need investment. Public safety remains underfunded. Basic city services continue to face painful reductions.

Against that backdrop, asking taxpayers to support a billion-dollar performing arts expansion without a funding plan is simply not responsible governance.

City leaders don’t have to choose between supporting the arts and protecting taxpayers. They can do both. Reject the billion-dollar gamble: Preserve the Keller. Invest in the Affordable Fix.

And make the next decision only after Portland has the facts, the financing and the confidence that our city can truly afford it.

To help, sign up to testify:

Once Friday’s council agenda is posted, you can register to provide oral or written testimony HERE.

If you testify, keep it to 60 seconds.

City Administrator Raymond Lee has been a difficult person for Portlanders to read in his first half year on the job.

As a reporter, I have often found that things become more clear to me if I sit in the front row. That’s how I got into a brief exchange with Lee at a City Club program in June.

Lee, who was to be the guest speaker that night, sat beside me, and we chatted about the generous severance packages recently given to departing bureau heads. We agreed that they were absurd. He called the practice unnecessary, as bureau chiefs serve at the pleasure of their employer, who can remove them when they choose and without cause, so large payouts upon departure are neither required nor good for the city.

That candor changed when the program began. As if turning on a dime, the new administrator filled the air with platitudes, cliches and generalities. For the next hour-plus, Lee spoke of how he loved Portland, its people and its potential. Specifics were harder to come by.

Moderator Shane Dixon Kavanaugh of The Oregonian/OregonLive asked what it would take to turn Portland around.

“When you have a change of form of government and a change of culture on top of that,” Lee said, “it’s really shaping some of the conversations that you’re hearing at the dais, and how we move forward collectively as a unit.”

The requisite culture shift could take up to five years, he added.

“In the two years [since charter reform], they never had a conversation about priorities until I got here. I just want to make sure that I’m creating that environment for our City Council to have these conversations about strategy.”

If there was an answer in there, Kavanaugh didn’t detect it either.

“Hearing you talk about the city needing up to five years for there to be a culture change in Portland,” Kavanaugh asked, “Do you think that the public has the patience for five years to get to that culture change?”

Put in those stark terms, Lee reframed his estimate.

“I think you will see things along the way. You’re gonna see changes. You’re gonna see a strategic plan. You’re gonna see dashboards. You’re gonna see things. You’re gonna see more town halls,” he said.

The five years referred to was about when he, as an experienced administrator, would know that cultural change had occurred.

In the meantime, Lee said the city needs to invest more to address homelessness, hire more police officers and upgrade the Moda Center to keep the Trail Blazers in town, all while reducing our unusually high taxes that drive businesses away.

Lee was never asked about excessive severance packages, and he did not bring them up. The topic was certainly on his mind when he negotiated his own contract to become Portland’s city administrator a few months earlier.

As reported by Jack Bogdanski, a Portland lawyer and academic who has been blogging on city affairs since 2002, the city offered Lee an annual salary of $320,000, 95% payment of his health insurance, full payment of his retirement plan and a three-year agreement wherein he would get 12 months pay “if separated in the first year” and a six-month payout if separated in the second or third year.

That was the city’s starting position. Bogdanski wrote that Lee upped the ante with “proposals that even for Portland City Hall would be crazy,” including a full three-year payout if the contract were not extended after the first 18 months of employment.

“He’s extremely keen on getting paid on his way out the door from Portland,” Bogdanski wrote.

The NW Examiner asked Lee how his arrangement differed from the settlements given to other city executives.

Lee asserted that the city administrator’s position is different from bureau directors and managers.

“The city administrator … reports directly to the mayor and all 12 members of the City Council. Unlike bureau directors, the position operates at the intersection of administration and governance and is uniquely subject to changes in political leadership, policy direction and council priorities.

“My employment agreement was negotiated as part of the recruitment process, publicly considered and approved by the City Council.

“The agreement is consistent with the framework established for executive leadership positions under the city’s new organizational structure and was not a unique arrangement created solely for me.”

The city charter does in fact exclude the city administrator from severance limits imposed on other positions.

Despite all this, Lee claimed that “I remain an at-will employee serving at the pleasure of the mayor and City Council.”

His “easy-come, easy-go” status changed the moment he signed a contract ensuring substantial penalties for dismissal. The city retains the freedom to remove him, but it would come with a steep financial cost.

Jamison Park will close at 10 p.m. rather than midnight beginning Aug. 3 in an effort to better monitor overnight misuse of the park. Citizens can report incidents to the Parks Ranger Call Center by emailing rangercallcenter@portlandoregon.gov.

Portland Parks & Recreation also announced installation of fencing to highlight and protect sculptures and much-needed maintenance to the park’s fountain.

Space for dancing was tight, but nothing was going to hold back a night of good times, not even the mournful melody of “The Tennessee Waltz.”

Only two remaining Northwest 23rd Avenue restaurants were here when Nob Hill Bar & Grill owners Greg and Barbara Hermens bought the business in 1986.

This is a highly likable straight-ahead corner cafe and Greek deli. The menu fuses Mexican and Mediterranean standards. This means options: you can order a gyro; you can go for a burrito. You can have a surprising blend of the two. Enjoy any protein you want served over either saffron or squid ink rice. Most dishes are topped with Gastro Mania’s signature jalapeño aioli. Breakfast burritos (bacon or sausage) and breakfast gyros (brisket, veggie or lamb and pork) are available in the morning. Order at the counter, and your food is prepared quickly.

A few outside tables offer a desolate but also somehow pleasant view of an empty lot. A park is promised for the lot one day. A few potted flowers sit under the chain-link fence as a reminder.

My mom and I shared the tasty grilled chicken plate over saffron rice. It was plenty for the two of us, especially since she is a light eater, making her a ideal lunch companion. Plus she always picks up the tab.

Briefly

A voyage to the gift shop Space Camp, 525 SW Broadway, is like skipping the exhibit and heading straight to the museum shop. Intriguing wares are arranged (oracle cards, puzzles, games, incense and perfume) on motion-detector shelving. Everything, including the jelly candy display, feels a bit like the film “Gattaca.” I wanted the sunglasses but settled on a wide metal cuff hair tie.

According to commercial broker Kathleen Healy, a vintage clothing retailer will soon open in the Art Deco building at 1110 NW Flanders.

After many years in Goose Hollow, The Leaky Roof, 1538 SW Jefferson, has closed.

Grits N’ Gravy, 215 SW 6th Ave., has closed.

Aviation Gin, backed by actor Ryan Reynolds, closed its tasting room at 2075 NW Wilson on June 28. Parent company Diageo relocated production to an out-of-state facility.

How did the city of Portland negotiate a clear victory over Portland General Electric’s proposed power line extension across sacrosanct Forest Park and turn it into a defeat?

“This is absolutely devastating and so underhanded,” said Darcie Meihoff, president of Oregon Wild and former president of Forest Park Conservancy. “How dare the city of Portland so blatantly cave to private interests over the public, our treasured Forest Park and the environment?”

Portlanders have been left to wonder because the man who signed the peace agreement, the city’s new and first city administrator, Raymond Lee, isn’t talking. Even local political veterans have no inkling as to whether Lee was acting on his own judgment or merely carrying out the will of his boss, Mayor Keith Wilson, or perhaps listening to City Council representatives.

Terms of the deal binding city staff to recommend approval is the product of a private mediation process in which participants are either legally bound to secrecy or are choosing to remain mum.

Portland City Council voted 12-0 in April 2025 to reject PGE’s application. This from a deeply divided council that rarely agrees on anything of high consequence or deep controversy. Even though PGE appealed that decision to the Oregon Land Use Board of Appeals, environmental and neighborhood groups on the other side were not that worried. LUBA does not reevaluate the general merits of cases but merely determines if policymakers followed laws and procedures, and consider evidence to back its action.

We may never know the strength of its case for appeal because PGE sought mediation, which brought the mayor, the city administrator and two members of the City Council into closed-door talks. Other parties to the case—the Forest Park Conservancy, Bird Alliance of Oregon and Forest Park Neighborhood Association—participated only in earlier stages of mediation and were not in the room when Lee signed the agreement on July 2.

City of Portland Media Manager Chenoa Philabaum told the NW Examiner that Lee made the call.

“Neither members of the council nor the mayor were decision-makers or signatories to the settlement agreement,” Philabaum wrote. “That agreement was made between the city’s executive branch and PGE.”

Lee has not responded to the Examiner’s request to comment. Some readers are troubled by the thought that a newcomer to the city would be allowed to make such a pivotal decision.

“He has barely lived in Portland months,” wrote Joni Johnson. “I don’t think his mandate is to overturn previous policy approved by the council. I’d like Raymond Lee to get the budget under control and demonstrate he has the fortitude to make hard choices to reduce the cost of city government. Then let him flex his muscles.”

“We have a carpet-bagging city administrator who is wasting no time in leaving his mark,” Paul Douglas wrote. “I thought the city administrator worked under the mayor under our new, so-called charter reform. Is the mayor culpable for allowing his underling to set policy like this?”

Who chose the players?

Bob Weinstein, the former mayor of Ketchikan, Alaska, and a Portland District 4 council candidate in 2024, has a lot of questions about how the agreement came to be.

“The council voted 12-0 to reject this project,” Weinstein wrote. “Twelve to zero. Neighborhood associations, the Forest Park Conservancy, Bird Alliance of Oregon—and even city staff’s own testimony—opposed it. Yet now the city administrator secretly signs an agreement committing staff to recommend approval of essentially the same project.

“The deal is bad, and the process, which involved the city and PGE cutting the environmental intervenors out of the discussion, may be worse.

“This is the culture critics have complained about for years: Unelected staff deciding they know better than the council and the public, and simply working around a decision until they get the outcome they wanted all along. If a 12-0 vote isn’t ‘policy direction,’ what is?” Weinstein asked.

As to the role of City Councilors Mitch Green and Steve Novick and how they got in the room, Philabaum wrote, “All of council, including Councilors Green and Novick, were invited to participate in any portion of the mediation.”

District 4 Councilors Eric Zimmerman and Olivia Clark told the Examiner they have no idea how the two men from their midst came to be there.

Green and Novick’s participation in the process may be the murkiest part of the whole deal.

Philabaum said the topics discussed in mediation were:

• The project’s compliance with applicable approval criteria,

• Ecological impacts within Forest Park and

• Potential additional mitigation and restoration measures.

According to Philabaum, “Under city code, councilors are required to avoid receiving information from interested parties on a pending land-use application that could be appealed to the council and to avoid saying or doing anything that could demonstrate bias.”

If that rule were applied, Green and Novick should not have been within earshot of the mediation. But Philabaum drew a different application to the “hear no evil” proscription.

Having collected a large volume of information during hours of mediation, Green and Novick are then expected to act as if they know nothing. “As a result [of the city code stricture], the councilors aren’t able to share opinions on the matter at this time,” she wrote.

Whether Green and Novick eventually share what they learned in secret or not, the situtation creates complications, particularly for their council colleagues. The next time either speaks publicly or privately on the PGE subject, will council members detect a change in tone or thought? Will they wonder if Green and Novick now see the situation differently as a result of their immersion in PGE’s uncensored arguments?

That is the corrupting influence of ex parti contact, which eats away at the assumption of a level playing field for all. Disclosure and recusal can limit the damage of inappropriate contact with one side, but denial and silence about actions possibly crossing the lines only incubate further distrust.

Why Green and Novick?

“The biggest unanswered question is why Councilors Green and Novick were selected,” Weinstein wrote. “Was that the mayor’s decision, the council’s or the city administrator’s? The public has never been told.

“We know it was not the council’s decision as a body. It was never on an agenda, and a couple council members have reportedly said they knew nothing about it. If it were Wilson’s call, that’s a meaningful detail, especially if he’s seen as sympathetic to PGE’s position, as it would suggest the choice of participants wasn’t neutral.”

“My assumption is that the city administrator would not have signed an agreement of this magnitude if the participating councilors had strongly objected.

“They have information the other council members don’t have, so they are in a unique position to explain and perhaps advocate for the agreement when it eventually comes before the council. Also, I don’t think this agreement would have been signed without the mayor’s OK, since the city administrator reports to him.”

Out in the cold

The three nonprofits left out of the process have no confidence in the path taken.

“The city and the conservation advocates agreed to enter into mediation with PGE to attempt to agree on an alternative to PGE’s proposal,” according to a Bird Alliance of Oregon newsletter. “After four months of mediation, city leadership entered into bilateral negotiations with PGE, cutting out the conservation partners from the negotiation.”

“We are frustrated that the city has caved to PGE’s pressure campaign, and is poised to approve their destructive project in Forest Park,” wrote Micah Meskel, director of urban conservation for the Bird Alliance.

“We were asked to sign this agreement but declined,” wrote Carole Hardy, a Forest Park Conservancy officer who was participated in the mediation.

Hardy said PGE brought nothing new to the table, particularly regarding energy demand forecasts or alternative routes outside the park.

“What is odd is that staff is directed to write a favorable report” on matters they so recently rejected, she said. “How can they now write a favorable report?

“This agreement threatens to turn public review into a formality. We urge Portlanders to make their voices heard and tell City Council not to give away critical park resources, pre-determine the outcome of a future application or sideline the public input that helped protect the park in the first place.”

And future applications are likely to follow.

“This decision isn’t just about a single transmission project,” Hardy continued. “This is just one example of PGE attempting to bypass local conservation and land-use policy … PGE plans two more development projects in the same sensitive area of Forest Park over the next 10 years. Αs planned. These projects would harm more than 15 additional acres of the park. We have to consider the precedent we are setting by allowing a deal made outside of public view to stand.”

Hardy emphasizes that the agreement settled nothing. A new application will come back to the council, which is free to evaluate it on its merits.

“We need the public to know that this is there chance to speak up,” she said.

A celebration of life for Portland journalist Zane Sparling is scheduled for 2 p.m. on Sunday, Aug. 2, at The Evergreen, 618 SE Alder St.

As the Examiner previously reported, Sparling, 33, brought attention to aspects of civic life that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.

RSVPs are encouraged at emily@posteventpros.com. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the EHE Foundation or the Oregon High School Journalism Institute.

“Hi, welcome to Dave’s!” someone hollered as other staff wearing “get rich or die fryin’” T-shirts moved around, cleaning windows with teenage alacrity. Some of the kids wore Dave’s bandanas, like Ralph Macchio as the Karate Kid. Others wore red trucker caps. Everything, including the napkins, is branded with fry puns. Dave’s, Dave’s, Dave’s. The walls are loud with faux graffiti; I didn’t try to decipher its message.

“Should I use those screens, or can I order with you?” I asked a young woman working there. “With me is fine!”

I liked her right off the bat. I requested the simply named No. 4, medium spice level. According to a graphic behind her, No. 4 is a chicken slider and fries, with a zippy-looking condiment for the fries. The same condiment zig-zags back and forth all around the fried chicken as if to say, ‘Step back, I’m spicy!

I asked for a beer. “Sorry, we don’t have that,” she said and gestured toward some brightly colored liquids behind her. “Water’s great!” She handed me a buzzer that glowed with a small red No. 4. and said her name was Sofia. Later she told me the milkshake machine will be running soon, and that the pick-up window opening to the sidewalk is just for people running deliveries for the apps.

A man speaking loudly in Russian into his cell phone paced around by my table waiting for a delivery. Two massive bags of food in thick plastic bags with handles were handed to him, and he left. Just then, a Dave’s employee sprinted past, running like the wind to chase the man down with something left behind. Like Steve Prefontaine of Northwest 23rd, he got cheers from people on the corner for the nice save.

My buzzer went off. I eyed the crinkle-cut pickles on the side. They were good. This is a giant slider, can I eat all this? Yes, I can. There’s a little bit of kale in the slaw, that’s good. Look at all those fries dusted with paprika, damn. Also crinkle-cut. A lot of feelings swirled around me. Sofia came by and asked, “Is everything tasting all right?”

Everything was very all right.

The Hoxton Hotel in Old Town, 15 NW Fourth Ave., has an analog photo booth with real film and a photochemical development process. There are only about 300 such booths left in the world. One reason analog booths became scarce is that the special paper they require is made in Russia, and the war with Ukraine disrupted its production and export.

Scarity became an issue even before then, says Jocelyn Dean, otherwise known as Photo Booth Chick. Dean owns and oversees maintenance of 38 photo booths in Portland, plus three in Astoria and one in Troutdale. A PNCA graduate in film and photography, Dean got into the photo booth business approximately 20 years ago, and all her booths were analog.

“At one time I had 23 analog photo booths,” she said. “I got chemical poisoning. I got electrocuted.” She has a worldwide, passionate subculture of analog fans who seek out machines that use the older technology. Dean in fact is rebuilding a few of the vintage booths she still owns. Finding parts for them is a tricky since they are all 40-50 years old.

We have a digital photo booth at my other job. It’s so popular that we had to cool high spirits with a sign that says, “Cramming or packing-in not allowed.” During a cramming event, as many people as possible pack a booth. Or kids run in and out of the booth between shots so the strip includes a maximum variety of friend shots.

One young woman took a flying leap into the photo booth to capture a mid-air shot of herself. The photo booth rocked back and forth, and a basket of dried flowers atop it fell to the ground. We admired her daredevil spirit, but the stunt gave birth to the sign.

Dean says stunts aren’t uncommon but nine times out of 10 it’s wholesome. “It’s sweet, really.”

According to an article in the New York Times, couples are using photo booth photography to announce their engagement in a casual, cost-effective way.

Meanwhile, the Hoxton photo booth cost $7 if using a card, but only $5 if paying with cash. The four black and whites on my strip look almost like a tintype photograph, which only enhances the vintage, nostalgic feel.

Even if Portland doesn’t break the record, we’ll win in the unofficial after-party category, because everyone knows Portland has more fun than Seattle.

BikeTown bikes have been around for a decade now. I tried it once, before they became electric and found them heavy, and not great for my then-smallish daughter, either. Nike bikes, we cursed them.

I’m committed to my analog bike. For one thing, it’s free. And I think automobile drivers appreciate that they can gauge my steady speed, lacking the sudden acceleration of e-bikes. Gliding along on my old bike is a relaxed type of exercise. The spokes make music, the yellow color makes people smile.

E-bikes lack such charming qualities, though I can appreciate the power-assist for going up hills. Not everyone is lucky enough to live in the Safeway flats, as I do.

I was nearly flattened by an e-bike passing on my right as I walked home from work on the sidewalk of Southwest Alder Street. “A little close!” I yelled at the back of blue-clad figure riding zig-zag. It was a Portland Police officer who almost grazed me. Did he stop, or say sorry? No. He just came back around on Southwest Broadway and nearly did it again. I could tell the way he pedaled all over the place like a kid in a cul de sac that he was new to this whole urban bike-riding thing. I’m sure he’ll get better.

If you have an e-bike and want to join the ride, it’s this Sunday.

Arson allegedly destroyed “the old Bear House,” a vacant city-owned structure on Southwest Wright Avenue at the edge of Washington Park on June 12.

“Thanks to a quick response by Portland Fire, damage to nearby trees was limited,” wrote Darcy Wheeles, president of the Arlington Heights Neighborhood Association. “The old structure is a loss. The neighbors’ homes were unscathed.

“Were it not for a neighbor who was up for an early flight and called 911 and alerted the neighbors, this could have been much worse,” Wheeles wrote.

The origin of the house’s name is cloudy, even among longtime Arlington Heights residents.

“That is what we have all been told, and it has always been called the Bear House,” Kathy Goeddel wrote. “I am suspicious that it ever housed bears. Info on the internet says it was a 1926 or 1927 Tudor shed. It is very likely located in the original location of the bears after they were moved up to the park from down on Burnside.

“However, the original zoo in City Park was moved to where the Japanese Garden is today in 1926. The bears were in a pit close to where the waterfall is in the Japanese Garden today until the zoo moved from there in 1959.

“A guess is that when the zoo moved to the site where the Japanese Gardens are today in 1925, the Tudor shed was built to store equipment for parks at the site where the original bear pit was located and was therefore called the Bear House.”

As part of the Pearl District Neighborhood Association’s Summer Free For All, Bridge City Soul will perform from 6:30-8:30 p.m. on Friday, July 17 in Jamison Square.

The public is invited to bring lawn chairs, blankets, drinks and picnic snacks to the event. No tickets or reservations are required.

By Linda Witt

The Pearl District Neighborhood Association launched its Pearl Patrol program on July 6 as part of its broader summerlong Re‑Ignite the Pearl campaign.

Patrol volunteers work in teams of three or more, serving as the neighborhood’s eyes and ears by identifying livability and public safety concerns and helping to ensure timely responses as issues arise.

In addition to monitoring neighborhood conditions, patrollers act as goodwill ambassadors, engaging residents, visitors and business owners to strengthen community involvement and awareness. Patrollers also help promote upcoming Pearl District events—including music festivals, Yoga in the Park and the Pearl Culinary Farmers Market (Sundays, 10 a.m.-2 p.m.)—along with other activities that bring energy and community connection to the district.

Patrollers are recognizable by their distinctive black‑and‑white safety vests. During their one‑hour walks on the sidewalks and in parks, volunteers may choose to participate in humanitarian outreach or neighborhood cleanup efforts, depending on their interests, experience and comfort level. While some teams follow a fixed schedule of outings, volunteers are also free to organize patrols whenever their calendars allow.

The program is managed by Linda Witt, teaming with seasoned PDNA volunteers Jim Rice, Bill Truncali and John Hollister. They developed a comprehensive training guide that has earned praise from Portland Police Bureau representatives and professionals in the homeless‑services field.

The first three cohorts—close to 35 volunteers from across the Pearl—completed orientation July 6-8 at The Fields Bar & Grill, followed by live field training. Portland Police Bureau representatives will join future walks.

More patrol volunteers are needed.

“Participants enjoy camaraderie, civic engagement and the satisfaction of making a meaningful impact on the neighborhood,” said Witt.

Community members aged 21 and older who wish to join can contact Linda Witt at lindawittextra@gmail.com.

Boka Marimba, a high-energy African-style marimba ensemble, plays at 6 p.m. on Tuesday, July 14 at Couch Park as part of a free summer concert series sponsored by the Northwest District Association. The eight- to 10-piece band has performed the music of Zimbabwe and Southern Africa for more than 35 years, with bookings across the Pacific Northwest.

The group blends soprano, alto, tenor, baritone and bass marimbas, drum set, percussion and vocals.

The NWDA park concert series continues Tuesdays in July with an Oregon Symphony ensemble at Slabtown Square on July 21 and Mr. Ben at Couch Park on July 28.

Longtime Northwest Portland resident Maureen Andrews has always had a thing about Patsy Cline. In the 1990s, she soloed for a band called “Walking After Midnight,” named for one of Cline’s top hits.

Though producing two albums, Andrews’ aspirations of music career were replaced by a notable but more private one. She retired as president of Legacy Health Foundation and chief development officer for Legacy Health last year.

Andrews now has some time for her first love. She and Peter Frajola, musician emertus with the Oregon Symphony, have assembled a four-piece band for a four-concert tour that begins with a preview show Saturday, July 18, close to home at the Nob Hill Bar & Grill, 937 NW 23rd Ave.

They are joined by well-known local musicians Alec Burton and Pete Lampe.

“The Patsy Cline Songbook: A Sultry Evening of Heartbreak and Romance” is scheduled at Hawkins Cellars in the Columbia Gorge, The Town Club and Arlington Club.

“We promise to deliver a velvet and deeply emotional performance that evokes the atmospheric romance of a bygone era,” read the press release, “as inviting as a summer night under a swollen moon and the scent of honeysuckle.”

Saturday, July 18 (8-9 p.m.– Nob Hill Bar & Grill
A special full-band preview of our Patsy Cline Songbook show

Friday, July 24 (4-6 p.m.)– Hawkins Cellars
Maureen & Peter duet in Columbia Gorge

Thursday, Aug. 27 (6:30-7:30 p.m.)– The Town Club *(Members only)*

Full-band show of The Patsy Cline Songbook

Friday, Oct. 2 (6:30-7:30 p.m.)– Arlington Club *(Members only)*

Full-band show of The Patsy Cline Songbook