The City fired its opening salvo in the Gas Works Park nuisance lawsuit filed after the death of 15 y.o. Matthies Johnson. This is how the City’s Answer begins:
“The City admits that some trespassers at Gas Works Park who have climbed or attempted to climb the appurtenances to the fenced-in towers have been injured and died in falls.”
The City does not refer to Matthies Johnson or the other 14 young people as humans with names and ages, families and friends. It classifies them as negative disembodied entities. Law breakers. Bad people. Trespassers.
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Gas Works Park is a toxic waste site where oil and other harmful chemicals fester just below the surface. But the city of Seattle had the great idea of turning it into a park - opening it to the public fully in 1976.
Beautiful “kite hill” is actually a mound of sewage and toxic structural materials covered by several inches of clay and a lawn. You can’t dip your toes into Lake Union which surround GWP - because of the toxic sediment which has been waiting for more than a decade to get cleaned up.
But the piece d’ resistance are the cracking towers. A delightful name not to be confused with cracker jacks or anything delicious and safe. This is where carcinogenic chemicals and coal were heated up to create fuel. The environment be damned.
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I knew Shawn from another time. Decades ago. She was so lovely. So warm. So loving. We didn’t keep in touch after my divorce. Not really. I would hear about her and Mark her husband. Once in a blue moon would run into them. Then last November, they visited Maui. Came over for a dinner that Cristina put together. And the years melted away. As they always do when you have a friend who has seen all the way inside of you.
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The Velvet Hammer Podcast (TM) was becoming not exactly a chore. And not exactly a bore. But it was destined to either dry up and wither away slowly. Or it needed a major redo.
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On Tuesday mediation failed which means the wrongful death trial will start August 19. Before my mind switches to battle mode, another thought fills my mind. And that thought turns to feelings. And those feelings begin to spread throughout my body. And then I cry.
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After Nala died I fled to New York for a few weeks. Partly to visit Noelle but also to avoid being in the house on Queen Anne hill. Where Nala lived with me for 13 of her 16 years.
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We drive down the hill to watch the sunset from the beach. Phuong has come for a visit.
We first met in the hospital She had just turned 18. Barely escaped death. During the Ride the Duck crash of September 2015. After the ducks lost its axle and crossed the center line it rammed into and through the tour bus full of international students. If Phuong had been sitting one seat back she would not be here today.
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After hearing I was heading back into trial, a lovely friend from kindergarten urged me to retire. What more do you need Karen. What more do you have to prove. You deserve to relax and spend more time being a grandma. All good and valid points.
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We settled the protest case for $10M the day before. Actually it had been lingering for a week since the mediation. When the city agreed to a deal then two stepped before refusing to put it in writing. Double crossers.
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At first I thought, well Karen - how ridiculous that you would think that you should get award and be mad that you didn’t. As a woman raised in the 60s - we were taught not to be forward, not to expect, to do good work, hope we would be recognized, and not be disappointed when the much louder boys got noticed instead.
But that 60s meek attitude is not how you claw to and survive at the top in the paternalistic world of lawyers. Plus I was raised by parents who believed that if you didn’t fight for yourself and others, then what was the point.
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Last week, the City told me that a yard blower was a weapon and grounds for arrest when used by a protester to protect others from tear gas. Number of victims: 0. A few days later, the parents of Summer Taylor gave gut wrenching statements during the sentencing the drunk (drugs primarily) driver who took their child’s life and almost killed another.
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Dad turned 90 this week. The family got together at Debbie & Rob’s house to celebrate the way we usually do. With dim sum and cake.
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Since covid entered the world, have dramatically curtailed speaking travel. But times are changing. And when the request comes in from the Colorado trial lawyers women’s caucus. I say yes. Even though Anne says: are you suuuuuurrrrreeeee. And wags her eyebrows at me.
We had just turned down Wyoming because there was no direct flight and it would have been an 8 hour trip. But this one is a simple flight to Denver which is not far away. Then an hour and a half drive to the resort. Piece of cake I enthuse. Anne gives me a knowing look.
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Hi Karen,
It’s been a while since my case settled in 2010, but you would remember me as ‘Colleen McCallum v. Allstate Insurance’ for a Bad Faith Claim with co-counsel Michael Fisher from Rush, Hannula, Harkins & Kyler.
That MVA was in 2004, and the lawsuits took over 6 years - it was a huge relief once it was finally settled.
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It is the second night of our attorney retreat. We are at the Stritmatters’ house in Maui. Listening to guitars. Watching the chefs pulling culinary delights from the pizza oven. The sun has set. And we are a smiling, talking and celebrating Paul’s 80th birthday.
We are also wondering - where are Fred and Furhad.
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15 years ago Paul Stritmatter told me I needed to hire a paralegal named Anne Roberson. I was in trial. And declined. He persisted and said I needed to meet her. Eventually. Reluctantly. I did. That day changed me fundamentally because Anne became a member of the firm and part of my life.
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For sentimental reasons have been hanging on to the last few pairs. Actually wear a few of them in trials this year. But as 2022 comes to an end. So does my desire (mostly) to ever wear high heels again.
It started in earnest in the disco years. Attended the U of W refusing to wear the uniform of jeans and flats. Can remember walking across red square (which is brick) on my toes - even in the rain.
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