What Happened to Portland?
Looking for the roots of the city’s
violent summer.
violent summer.
By David Shipley
September 17, 2020, 6:30 AM EDT
David Shipley is senior executive editor of Bloomberg
Opinion. He was deputy editorial page editor and op-ed page editor of the New
York Times, and served in the Clinton administration as special assistant to
the president and senior presidential speechwriter. Shipley is co-author of
“Send,” a guide to email.
Opinion. He was deputy editorial page editor and op-ed page editor of the New
York Times, and served in the Clinton administration as special assistant to
the president and senior presidential speechwriter. Shipley is co-author of
“Send,” a guide to email.
In May, I went back to Portland, Oregon, my hometown. It was
the week George Floyd was killed by police in Minneapolis.
the week George Floyd was killed by police in Minneapolis.
Protests in Portland followed, as they did around the
country. Unlike the rest of the nation, though, what began as peaceful and
constructive political expression devolved into something else entirely. In
fact, a cruel inversion took place over the summer: The proximate (and
righteous) cause was increasingly buried by violence. One receded and the other
rose, a dynamic that paused only when the larger, more lethal force of wildfire
took hold.
country. Unlike the rest of the nation, though, what began as peaceful and
constructive political expression devolved into something else entirely. In
fact, a cruel inversion took place over the summer: The proximate (and
righteous) cause was increasingly buried by violence. One receded and the other
rose, a dynamic that paused only when the larger, more lethal force of wildfire
took hold.
Over more than 100 nights, federal buildings, police
precincts, shops, stores and restaurants were assailed. Local police, federal
forces and protesters of every persuasion clashed. Portland saw rocks, eggs,
flash-bang grenades, tear gas and worse.
precincts, shops, stores and restaurants were assailed. Local police, federal
forces and protesters of every persuasion clashed. Portland saw rocks, eggs,
flash-bang grenades, tear gas and worse.
One video shows a man being pulled from a truck and beaten.
It’s shocking enough, and then you realize that the scene is unfolding in the
heart of downtown, and not in some frontier county, and that it goes on for
20-plus minutes without any sign of intervention.
It’s shocking enough, and then you realize that the scene is unfolding in the
heart of downtown, and not in some frontier county, and that it goes on for
20-plus minutes without any sign of intervention.
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In late August, a pro-Trump parade was somehow allowed to
drive those same downtown streets. A 39-year-old man riding in the caravan was
shot and killed by a 48-year-old self-described anti-fascist, who was then
himself shot and killed by officers with the U.S. Marshals Service a couple
days later.
drive those same downtown streets. A 39-year-old man riding in the caravan was
shot and killed by a 48-year-old self-described anti-fascist, who was then
himself shot and killed by officers with the U.S. Marshals Service a couple
days later.
Much of this took place at night, but the effects were
plainly visible in the day — even as those days became shrouded in the haze and
smoke from the forest fires that ravaged the West. Portland got the nickname
“Stumptown” because of the stumps that dotted the pioneer landscape, a record
of rapid expansion in the 19th century. Today the trees have been put to
another use: to blanket downtown businesses in plywood.
plainly visible in the day — even as those days became shrouded in the haze and
smoke from the forest fires that ravaged the West. Portland got the nickname
“Stumptown” because of the stumps that dotted the pioneer landscape, a record
of rapid expansion in the 19th century. Today the trees have been put to
another use: to blanket downtown businesses in plywood.
Portland
The boards cover Tiffany and Co., Zara, 7-Eleven and bunch
of local stores — selling luggage, legal supplies, men’s suits — that have been
around since I was a kid in the 1960s. Some of the wood is mottled composite,
some of it is serpentine-grained, nearly all of it is covered with graffiti.
The slogans signal how far things have gone off track; only a fraction of them
refer to George Floyd or Breonna Taylor or the other names Americans have been
calling out for remembrance.
of local stores — selling luggage, legal supplies, men’s suits — that have been
around since I was a kid in the 1960s. Some of the wood is mottled composite,
some of it is serpentine-grained, nearly all of it is covered with graffiti.
The slogans signal how far things have gone off track; only a fraction of them
refer to George Floyd or Breonna Taylor or the other names Americans have been
calling out for remembrance.
Portland
On a walk downtown earlier this month, two things caught my
eye. One was a man in an orange vest removing spray paint from a big
street-level window. He’d decided to start in the middle and had just managed
to clear a path halfway up the frame, like a snow plow cutting through the
center of a road after a blizzard. He had a long way to go.
eye. One was a man in an orange vest removing spray paint from a big
street-level window. He’d decided to start in the middle and had just managed
to clear a path halfway up the frame, like a snow plow cutting through the
center of a road after a blizzard. He had a long way to go.
The other was a man I saw from behind, reaching into the
back of his hatchback to put on a protective vest.
back of his hatchback to put on a protective vest.
Well before it was enveloped in smoke, Portland was a city
in retreat. Even its 110-year-old elk statue had gone into hiding.
in retreat. Even its 110-year-old elk statue had gone into hiding.
***
Not that long ago, Portland had a visionary, progressive and
capable government. It was activist in the best sense — it took action and
managed change. A bright mayor and an energetic city council in the 1970s
brought the city light rail and an urban growth boundary and the green space
that made it a magnet for hipness in the ’00s. This is not to minimize
Portland’s failings, most notably its well-documented history of codified and
tacit racism and exclusion, but government was present. It was there. And it
was trying.
capable government. It was activist in the best sense — it took action and
managed change. A bright mayor and an energetic city council in the 1970s
brought the city light rail and an urban growth boundary and the green space
that made it a magnet for hipness in the ’00s. This is not to minimize
Portland’s failings, most notably its well-documented history of codified and
tacit racism and exclusion, but government was present. It was there. And it
was trying.
A true story: Fifty years ago, in August of 1970, Portland
was host to an American Legion convention. President Richard Nixon was
scheduled to speak. The Vietnam War was at its height and anti-war riots were
feared. The last thing leaders wanted was a reprise of the violence that
bedeviled the Democratic National Convention in Chicago two years earlier, or
at Kent State that spring, which is exactly what the F.B.I. envisioned.
was host to an American Legion convention. President Richard Nixon was
scheduled to speak. The Vietnam War was at its height and anti-war riots were
feared. The last thing leaders wanted was a reprise of the violence that
bedeviled the Democratic National Convention in Chicago two years earlier, or
at Kent State that spring, which is exactly what the F.B.I. envisioned.
Governor Tom McCall, a Republican, endorsed a plan: The state would sponsor a free, multi-day
music festival, modeled on Woodstock, to take place at the same time as the
convention. It would be held in a state park just far enough from Portland that
travel back and forth would be a hassle. The police would stay away.
Miraculously, “Vortex I: A Biodegradable Festival of Life” — that’s what it was
called — redirected thousands of potential protesters away from the city. (My
family — mom, dad, three little kids — was among them. I don’t remember this,
but according to my father, we met a guy as we were scouting for a place to put
down our blanket. He was naked. “Nice day for a picnic, sir,” is what he told
my dad, with a smile.)
music festival, modeled on Woodstock, to take place at the same time as the
convention. It would be held in a state park just far enough from Portland that
travel back and forth would be a hassle. The police would stay away.
Miraculously, “Vortex I: A Biodegradable Festival of Life” — that’s what it was
called — redirected thousands of potential protesters away from the city. (My
family — mom, dad, three little kids — was among them. I don’t remember this,
but according to my father, we met a guy as we were scouting for a place to put
down our blanket. He was naked. “Nice day for a picnic, sir,” is what he told
my dad, with a smile.)
This story has been on my mind as I think about Portland today.
Government, at its most basic and competent, is about making places safe so
that lots of people (with their varying agendas and needs and desires) can
coexist peacefully and get on with their lives. Sometimes it means diverting a crowd so that you can avoid the harm
that gets in the way of bringing about deeper change. This is what Tom
McCall, who went on to enact the state’s visionary environmental agenda, did —
at least in this case. And it’s the opposite of the leadership we had this
summer.
Government, at its most basic and competent, is about making places safe so
that lots of people (with their varying agendas and needs and desires) can
coexist peacefully and get on with their lives. Sometimes it means diverting a crowd so that you can avoid the harm
that gets in the way of bringing about deeper change. This is what Tom
McCall, who went on to enact the state’s visionary environmental agenda, did —
at least in this case. And it’s the opposite of the leadership we had this
summer.
***
Portland’s bad summer started long before this summer.
Governance in Portland has been struggling for years, but its diminishment has
been overlooked — obscured by its restaurants, wine and design, bike parades,
coffee, “Portlandia,” quirk. A Fred Armisen sighting covers a multitude of
civic failings — of which the city’s
omnipresent homelessness is only the most visible.
Governance in Portland has been struggling for years, but its diminishment has
been overlooked — obscured by its restaurants, wine and design, bike parades,
coffee, “Portlandia,” quirk. A Fred Armisen sighting covers a multitude of
civic failings — of which the city’s
omnipresent homelessness is only the most visible.
Some of the problems can be laid at the feet of a succession
of one-term mayors, none of whom
were able to stay around long enough to have a sustained effect. Some can be
attributed to Portland’s commission form
of city government, where no one (neither the mayor nor the elected
commissioners) has quite enough power, and everyone is always running
for re-election. A divided and
underfunded state government, with a legislature that has a habit of
staging walkouts, has been a factor, too, as has the absence of a sales tax to bring in needed revenue.
of one-term mayors, none of whom
were able to stay around long enough to have a sustained effect. Some can be
attributed to Portland’s commission form
of city government, where no one (neither the mayor nor the elected
commissioners) has quite enough power, and everyone is always running
for re-election. A divided and
underfunded state government, with a legislature that has a habit of
staging walkouts, has been a factor, too, as has the absence of a sales tax to bring in needed revenue.
One thing that struck me this summer was the experience of no
longer having a regular local newspaper. Walking to the end of the driveway
every morning, grabbing the Oregonian in its rain-dotted plastic, was once a
daily routine. Its front page defined the important events: Nixon resigns, the
Trail Blazers win, Mount St. Helens erupts, the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh flees.
longer having a regular local newspaper. Walking to the end of the driveway
every morning, grabbing the Oregonian in its rain-dotted plastic, was once a
daily routine. Its front page defined the important events: Nixon resigns, the
Trail Blazers win, Mount St. Helens erupts, the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh flees.
Now the paper gets delivered only a few days a week. It’s
online, sure, but there’s no reliable shared document to chronicle a small
city’s experience. Social media doesn’t fill the void; it’s too balkanized.
On days without delivery, you feel disconnected.
online, sure, but there’s no reliable shared document to chronicle a small
city’s experience. Social media doesn’t fill the void; it’s too balkanized.
On days without delivery, you feel disconnected.
This wasn’t an isolated feeling. You might think the turmoil
downtown would be all that anyone in Portland would want to discuss, and that
it would prompt constant outrage and interrogation. Certainly, it was the
subject people from outside the state called, emailed and asked about. But here
engagement on the protests was sporadic, like the newspaper schedule.
downtown would be all that anyone in Portland would want to discuss, and that
it would prompt constant outrage and interrogation. Certainly, it was the
subject people from outside the state called, emailed and asked about. But here
engagement on the protests was sporadic, like the newspaper schedule.
Part of this disparity can be explained. Things often look worse from the outside.
The news shows the smoldering wreckage of a bombed-out building, not the busy
mall around the corner. If you aren’t on the ground, that’s all you see. And
Portland as broadcast looked really bad, especially when it became entangled in
a broader political narrative; there were nights when it felt like MSNBC and
Fox were in a bidding war over who was to blame for the city’s descent.
The news shows the smoldering wreckage of a bombed-out building, not the busy
mall around the corner. If you aren’t on the ground, that’s all you see. And
Portland as broadcast looked really bad, especially when it became entangled in
a broader political narrative; there were nights when it felt like MSNBC and
Fox were in a bidding war over who was to blame for the city’s descent.
But part of this disparity was harder to fathom. The
story of the summer was Portland’s anger. What got less attention was its lack of anger, particularly among those who
had real reason to be angry: Portlanders themselves.
story of the summer was Portland’s anger. What got less attention was its lack of anger, particularly among those who
had real reason to be angry: Portlanders themselves.
It was their hometown that was burned, held hostage by a
small group of angry extremists. It was their money that was going to sweep up
the garbage, power-wash buildings, and remove and store 6,800-pound elk
statues. It was their businesses getting boarded up, their jobs cut. It was
their elected officials who failed to provide the effective policing that was
needed, and who gave Donald Trump an opening to barge in with untrained federal
officers and make things worse.
small group of angry extremists. It was their money that was going to sweep up
the garbage, power-wash buildings, and remove and store 6,800-pound elk
statues. It was their businesses getting boarded up, their jobs cut. It was
their elected officials who failed to provide the effective policing that was
needed, and who gave Donald Trump an opening to barge in with untrained federal
officers and make things worse.
Most of all, it was their sincere, concerted effort, in the
days after George Floyd’s death, to address the racism rooted in Oregon’s
history and in its once-exclusionary state constitution that got derailed,
obscured and burned away.
days after George Floyd’s death, to address the racism rooted in Oregon’s
history and in its once-exclusionary state constitution that got derailed,
obscured and burned away.
If ever a city deserved to get pissed off at what was
happening to it, it was Portland. And yet the anger never came. The Wall of
Moms and the Leaf Blower Dads went home and left the protesting to the rowdies.
The city’s Black community watched its cause overwhelmed by other forces. The
overdue reckoning on race and homelessness and the ills laid bare by the
pandemic went back in its box.
happening to it, it was Portland. And yet the anger never came. The Wall of
Moms and the Leaf Blower Dads went home and left the protesting to the rowdies.
The city’s Black community watched its cause overwhelmed by other forces. The
overdue reckoning on race and homelessness and the ills laid bare by the
pandemic went back in its box.
Hard-to-see, harder-to-solve
problems have a way of creeping up until it’s too late. In Portland, and
throughout the West, the effects of climate
change became cruelly visible this last week. A brutal reminder of the
costs of forestalling action. Perhaps the image of a state in ashes will spur
collective action; perhaps the unseemly speed with which political division
entered the discourse — the outlandish idea that the fires were set by
extremists on the left or right — will be enough to make Portlanders (and the
rest of Oregon) say “Enough.”
problems have a way of creeping up until it’s too late. In Portland, and
throughout the West, the effects of climate
change became cruelly visible this last week. A brutal reminder of the
costs of forestalling action. Perhaps the image of a state in ashes will spur
collective action; perhaps the unseemly speed with which political division
entered the discourse — the outlandish idea that the fires were set by
extremists on the left or right — will be enough to make Portlanders (and the
rest of Oregon) say “Enough.”
It’s easy, I know, to be beguiled by Portland, to let things
slide. This has been true for a long time, but maybe not anymore. You’re
surrounded by beauty — green mountains and open skies. But those mountains can
turn to fire, we’ve seen, those skies to a suffocating orange.
slide. This has been true for a long time, but maybe not anymore. You’re
surrounded by beauty — green mountains and open skies. But those mountains can
turn to fire, we’ve seen, those skies to a suffocating orange.
This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the
editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
To contact the author of this story:
David Shipley at davidshipley@bloomberg.net
To contact the editor responsible for this story:
Mary Duenwald at mduenwald@bloomberg.net
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