Ballard Bullshit

So you thought the mural was taken down to do some restoration work? No, no dear readers, that's not how it really went down. As late as November 2nd, the Ballard News-Tribune stated: "The park's distinctive mural, depicting scenes of Scandinavian heritage has been removed temporarily for minor restoration work. . .(it) needs some small touch up work like replacing rusting screws and one-inch pieces of wood." Remember that ocean-front property in Arizona I've got for sale? Here's what really happened.
This whole story started out pretty innocently. I was just wondering where the mural at Bergen Place went, and when it would return. But upon intense investigation, I found a murky maze of quasi-organizations, many of them who seemed intent on diffusing knowledge via intrigue. Well as you kind readers know, you blow smoke in this editor's 20/20 eyes, and my mental vacuum cleaner will strip you naked. You may never see this mural again, but a few powerful people really do want to see it return, so we'll see.
It all starts with the Olsen brothers, (the furniture magnates), who own the brick wall that the mural was kind of installed on. I initially thought its removal was related to "earthquake retrofit," for the wall, which would make sense. But no, that was not the issue. That wall is exempt from the Ballard Historical Commission's rules about old-timey preservation. It escaped that determination by 1/2 block. So what was going on? Of course I had to talk to the principals, so I interviewed both Art and brother Bruce Olsen, owners emeritus. Their wall is the North face of the business "Art By Fire," the exquisite glass shop next to the Chai House. Little slimy, many legged centipedes et al, were crawling right through that wall into the Fire's shop! Well how the heck does that relate to anything? Well, well, as Bruce Olsen told me, he feels that the large mural, affixed to that wall for years, had allowed a continual moisture bath to accumulate behind it, never drying out. This eventually led to mortar deterioration, which led to perfect little houses for soft, viscous clay inhabitants.
Here's where the plot thickens, but the wall doesn't. Olsen's Furniture signed a 30 year lease, way back in 1975, with the Parks Department, and allowed the City to use their wall to "hang" the mural (in 1995, that is). Now let's be fair here, the lease stipulated the City would do necessary maintenance over the life of the lease. Well they did nothing in those three decades, nothing, hence the "rot" of the wall. Well this kind of pissed the Olsen brothers off. They don't want to replace the wall. Bruce Olsen recently got five bids for its repair. They range from $2,500. to $12,500. He feels, since Parks had not honored the maintenance part of the lease, that the City should pay for any and all repairs (through their negligence, that is). And that's the real reason the mural was dismantled. Rest assured, that mural will not hang on Olsen's North wall until Parks divvies up the repair money. Bank on that. Yet the mainstream press, and the local rumor mill, had been fed the scrap of info that the mural came down for some sort of "restoration." Nope, that was a secondary, but effective, PR campaign. But who took the mural down, and where was it being stored? Naturally, I was not done yet.
I finally nailed down Gordon Strand, of the Nordic Heritage Museum. "I've talked to one of the original artists," he said. "The artist feels that any restorative work should be done, after it has been reinstalled, and is in a vertical position." OK, I'm fine with that. "But the moneys that have been saved for that are being tightly controlled, and may not be released." (We're talking a measly three grand here). Oh no, here we go, I thought.
So I caught Victoria Sangrey (a third generation Norwegian), who heads the "Friends of Bergen Place," (and is a member or officer of innumerable Nordic associations) while she was weeding in the Park. I feigned ignorance. "The mural was delicately moved and is in storage, awaiting restoration," she told me. Well that's really a half-truth. Here's what the Post-Intelligencer wrote recently: ". . .the panels that made up the mural are in storage, and while the furniture store is willing to bring the mural back, some day, it's unknown when that might be." Bullshit. Ms. Sangrey "hopes the mural will come back soon." I guess murals sprout little legs and scurry back somehow. To her credit, they have installed granite cornerstones featuring a seining boat image, on the corners of the park. But the real mural answer is coming at you.
Just guess what your editor witnessed a few weeks ago, by happenstance. It was a Sunday, and I had risen early to catch the glorious Fall day that was about to unfold. I walked to Bergen Place, and saw about five men, two on the roof of Olsen's, and three on the ground. The middle panel of the Mural was being lowered by a chain that had been looped around the plywood. Three feet from the ground the chain slipped, and ratcheted along four feet of the edge. Small slivers of wood glinted in the early morning light and I thought, "Who the Hell put Bubba and Hoss in charge of this dismantle?" I stood by Vera's, lip-locked and astounded at the bumbling scene right out of a Marks Brothers film. So much for the "delicate move."
Turns out these hillbillys were some of Ballard's most powerful men.
With the removal of the Nordic themed mural, all we have in this Scandinavian park are the five twenty foot tall penises (or sex-toys, whatever) known as public art, a blank brick wall, some African savanna grass, and now laying flat, a little Nowegian seascape. Now that's heritage, cubed.
With all of the people I was talking with, somehow the Viking Bank was always inserted into the discussions. Hmmm. . .
So I went over to the Ballard Chamber of Commerce, and had a nice chat with Beth Williamson Miller, the Executive Director. Beth is a good lady, and I genuinely like her. She is affable and informative, and knows the insides of this town better than anyone. She overviewed the history of the Park (which I knew already, but always good to hear another slant), and gave me names and numbers. She is almost as fiercely protective of Ballard as I am. Beth was the one that was insistent that I go over to Viking Bank, for the real inside story.

So I did. Eight times in fact, until I finally had audience with the local heavy hitter, Ozzie Kvithammer. The "Oz-man" founded that bank. Of course he now is more advisory than not, but he's really enjoying retirement, and his official title is "Community Relations Officer" for Viking. Paydirt, readers, paydirt. I would not be intimidated.
He knew why I had come, and escorted me into the official meeting room--a spare, but spacious environment. In front of me was a man who had financially seen it all. (Sitting in that room, I wondered how many deals had gone down in there, legal or not.) He was old enough to find humor in his entire career, and mentally savvy enough to remember details with lightning speed. I definitely had to stay on my toes with this cat.
Remember those "hicks" who I witnessed at the Park, taking down the Mural? Well Ozzie headed that group, and as he told me, "Well, we may have looked like Hoss and Bubba, but most of those men you saw have a net worth that far exceeds mine." Money has never impressed me, Oz-man.
Ozzie is one of those rare gentlemen who figures you out in three seconds. In his "dressed-down" style, he could be any balding man in line at Safeway. He exudes a warmth that can only come from years of intelligent living. Perhaps he got an extra dose of the DNA code that deals with heart.
For well over an hour I successfully pulled details out of this very fun man. He was absolutely a straight-shooter with me, and he didn't need to do that, at all. Had I detected any sort of illusion or con in him, I was ready to rip his ass to shreds, really I was. So here's the story from the apex of this entire mess: Ozzie, and his people, want to find the money to install the Mural as a free-standing sculpture, replete with (he hopes), a stainless steel frame and foundation. That would take the Olsen brothers entirely out of the mix. Amen to that! And he wants this done by mid-May, 2006! Well hell yeah. Then the Artist could have the green light to restore the painting (assuming those restorative funds get pried loose, or there is other funding).

But if anybody can accomplish this, it's Ozzie (and Victoria). Of course, the new installation would require yet another permit from Parks, but guaranteed, Mr. Kvithammer can take care of that in short order, if need be. And to answer the last little detail, the Mural is being stored over at Pacific Fisheries, with space donated by none other than Doug Dixon.
So while all these other groups are running around ill-informed, and all wanting a little glory out of this story, it was the Oz-man who was pro-active. Sure he has to meet with all these little prissies who run around with false Nordic pride, but he's the man when we need action on a viable plan. This man is civic minded, and I like his style. But I guarantee you won't find his name quoted in many articles, (and I've read them all), because this kind of player stays in the background, while he stokes the fire of forward momentum. But just in case the slings and arrows of misfortune befall Ozzie, guess who is going to contact the Norwegian Consulate, here in Seattle, and the present Norwegian King Harold and his lovely bride, Queen Sonja. . . . ? Well heck, it wouldn't be me would it?
All of those Nordic committees had a meeting on October 25th, and basically, from what I'm told, it was more drivel and "planning." I wish everybody would just shit and get off the can. So after it's all said and done, we only know one thing for sure: the mural is gone. We do not know when it will return. It's just too damn complicated in this town of talk 'till you die, then let your kids talk 'till they die, then do something.
Hey, just for fun: if you're by the Viking Bank, why not stop in and thank this iconic man (Ozzie), he's one of the few true allies we have. And if he's not in, leave a message with any of the polite people who work there, and sign the note, "Richard sent me. . . . ."