In 2009, police arrested a Western Oregon University student at the student union with a concealed handgun and knife in his pocket. Later, the Newberg School District sought, and failed, to keep guns from its schools. These cases ignited a strongly-contested conflict about guns on the campus of Oregon state universities and other state schools.
Rodeo clowns are actors performing dangerous improvisational theater before live audiences. Wearing multicolored masks layered in gaudy grease paint, they symbolize ancient Greek muses. Protecting and liberating the rider from calamity is the job of Melpomene, the scowling face of Tragedy. Meanwhile Thalia, the smiley face of Comedy, is busy court-jesting and regaling children with tomfoolery. How well the theatrical performance is received depends, in large part, on the chemistry between these two opposing forces—Tragedy and Comedy.
Editor Kevin Max and photographer Joni Kabana take a trip across Oregon and immerse themselves in the dive bar community and the culture and cameraderie it offers.
Pressed up close to Pistol River’s South Bank Road, Les Stansell’s shop appears an unassuming grey corrugated metal building. A dozen broken surfboards and an assortment of wood lean against it. A small hand-painted sign says “Stansell and Co.” That’s as close as Stansell comes to direct advertising—even though he’s renowned for his handcrafted flamenco guitars.
Every road to Canby is a pleasant one, especially for connoisseurs of fresh, locally grown produce.
Mike McMenamin, Oregon pub owner extraordinaire, weighs in with the top 5 versions of his favorite Grateful Dead song, ‘Dark Star.’
Two years ago, Rick Fredland made a clever connection between form and function, crafting the concept of the Silipint, or pint cups made of silicone. These vessels could bounce off any surface, survive cliff jumps and regain shape after being run over by a bicycle-powered mobile pub. The cup’s adaptable form gives it more lives than a cat.
It was Fourth of July weekend in Vancouver, Washington, and the startling snaps, pops and explosions from fireworks outside of Mandee Juza’s home immediately transported her back to Iraq. She holed up in the basement, and tried to escape the feeling that guns and bombs were thundering nearby, threatening her life. She was experiencing the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), a common mental illness that has affected veterans of all wars.
From their table at the Golden Horse Restaurant in Portland’s Chinatown, Mary Leong, a youthful 90 year old, and Fred Wong, equally spry at 87, can glance in any direction and the memories come back to them. Over a lunch of rice porridge and beef chow fun, they banter about the neighborhood. With wry humor and wistful moments, they recall lives shared by their families across the arc of time, a mosaic of memories and anecdotal history of Portland’s Old Town Chinatown.
