Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 8, 1976)
Over-the-counter culture Remodeled grain elevator to house gallery of shops The Fifth Street Public Market. The Smeede Hotel. The Atrium Building. Hip capitalism in Eugene is big business. With the opening of the new Jef ferson Elevator Wednesday, the shape of Eugene’s over-the-counter culture has taken a new twist. The Elevator, located at Fifth Avenue and Jefferson Streets, is, according to owner originator Duke Rich, “a total design conoept that doesn’t compare to anything else in Eugene.” Plans for the remodeled grain elevator call fa an acre of specialty shops to locate within the forma feed Morehouse and grain bins beginning this fall. But just how many leatha boutiques, imported coffee shops and pottery outlets can this city support? Ac cording to Rich, there’s not only room for another alternative style Valley River Center, there’s a demand. “We’re going to have a complete By HEA THER McCLENAGHAN Of the Emerald gallery of shops here,” Rich says. “What we'll have is an active shopping center where people will enjoy being. Most people who have seen it have been pretty impressed. We’re after people who are enterprising enough to join the Elevator and realize it is a good place to open a shop. It’s going to be a real money maker.” If that doesn’t sound like the voice of the run-of-the-mill long-haired businessperson in Eugene, don’t be surprised. Duke Rich is not long-haired and resents any association between his enterprise and the Eugene arts and crafts community. . An indoor Saturday Market it is not. When the Elevator has reached completion it will include at least five restaurants, a pool hall and card room, a 170-room motel and convention center complex with a glass elevator running to a nightclub perched atop the converted grain elevators. Envisioning success for his venture, Rich says, “Everybody will like to hang out in a round room 14 stories in the air.” On opening day, only a handful of businesses had moved in, although most of the floor space has been rented to import shops, antique stores and other small retailers. Rich says he will begin approaching large retail establishments. So far, he says, large retailers have shied away from the Elevator because, “they have a reel misconception of the place. They don’t want to move in with a bunch of hippies.” The smell of grain still lingers throughout the Jefferson Elevator. Stacks of grain sacks lie in unused corners of the complex. Two of the big elevators are still filled with grain. “You know this has gotten to be like the Statue of Liberty for Eugene,” Rich says. “Nobody even knew it was here until we painted a 14 story sign on it.” Debates arouse fear and doubt in reporter By MIKE McCLAIN Of the Emerald The optional spaghetti dinner was advertised lor $1.50. I couldn’t resist; I had visions of a sauce thick with onions, green peppers, mushrooms and garlic, sauteed and simmered for hours, nestled up to slowly disin tegrating tomatoes. A hint of oregano, sage and thyme. Garlic bread covered with butter (boiled with minced garlic) and topped with hand-grated parmesan Saliva filled my mouth as I neared the front door of the Lane County Democratic campaign headquarters for their spaghetti feed and debate watch. This was a chance to satisfy two long standing desires. First was the longing, for a wall prepared spaghetti sauce. The second was a desire to rate the local strength of the gen tleman from Georgia, Carter, who placed third in the Oregon primary and was soundly trounced by California Gcv. Jerry Brown in Lane County. Had he bean able to dose the ranks since the convention? Had his much publicized “wide but shallow river'’ of support - deepened in Lane County where, before the primary, It had con sisted of a barely moistened riverbed? As I walked through the door at 5:30 p.m., when the feed was scheduled to start, I grew a little wary. The odor of a fancy spaghetti sauce, after simmering for several hours, would per meate even a room the size of this. I smelled nothing. Not only that, but only three people were there. Had I made the ultimate reporter's blunder? Was I at the wrong place at the right time? One of the three assured me I wasn’t. “This Is It." They also assured me the sauce was boiling in the back. I began to get a feeling about the degree of Carter's support when I entered the room. The headquarters is a narrow building, maybe 20 feet wide with a recessed entryway. The en trance creates a wedge of space next to the door and this is where the large “Carter-Mondale" sign is. Highly visible to walkers-by, but when you enter the room you’ve already passed their area and your attention diverts to the large photos and desks of Jim Weaver, Nancy Fadeley and even the Democratic outlaw Archie Weinstein. Is Carter the uninvited alcoholic mother-in-law who arrives the weekend of a big party, is introduced then ushered quickly to a room out back? At 6 p.m. there are 12 people here, sitting around the large table dividing the majority of the room, eating spaghetti and watching the local news. My culinary hopes have been thoroughly dashed. It turns out the sauce consists of Tomato sauce and hamburger. That’s it. And even the noodles have been botched. No one salted them and in a fit of overindulgenoe, I over compensate. I’m forced to concentrate on the politics. As it nears 6:30, the time the debate is to begin, the crowd has grown to about 30. Four TVs are set up around the room — one on a different channel than the other three — and six men on the other end of the table have polished off a half-gallon of Madria-Madria Sangria with their spaghetti. Or maybe because of their spaghetti. The conversation turns to the debate. “Carter's been boning up for this one. He shouldn’t do too bad." “Yea, arel he’s said he’ll be more aggressive." I get the feeling there was some disap pointment about Carter’s per formance in the domestic debate. A young guy named Tim sitting next to me says Ford doesn’t know foreign issues; it’s all Kissinger's show. I tell him “didn’t you know Ford’s got a mike in his ear on a direct line to Kissinger?" He takes me seriously for a moment. Someone twists the non conformist TV into line Just in time for the introduction by Pauline Fredricks of NPR We now have full coordination. Carter gets the first question and as he begins to argue about the Ford administration's secrecy and lack of sensitivity, a late coming woman sits down across the table from me and twirls a forkful of spaghetti to her mouth. As Carter expounds, she begins to chew. She grimaces. It’s a toes up whether the grimaoe is the fault of the food, Carter’s southern accent or his ideology, but I’d be inclined to vote for the latter. Immediately I’m faced with another Judgment. Everyone has finished eating and they're sitting back in a fit of general unax dtement as Carter finishes Ns first answer. It could either be what I call the “valium effect” of spaghetti — whether it’s good or bed, when you’re finished, your first inclination is to go to steep — or these people are not entirely sold on Carter. This time I vote for a toss up. A pattern begins to emerge as the questions and answers swing from the Democrat to the Republican. Ford stands on Ns record. How can he manage this feat when he’s constantly got one foot firmly in Ns mouth over such issues as our involvements in Chile, Angola and Korea; and then shoves it all the way down Ns throat on the freedom and autonomy of Eastern European countries, is beyond me. The audience groans, guffaws, snickers and says “I don't believe tNs” in uNson. As a group, these about the man, or are blindly committed to the party. But most are watching and listening closely, judging everything this man says. It’s like they're not sure if the things he’s saying he stands for are the same things they want to stand behind. I get the feeling Carter is the only one debating up there. And he’s not debating with Ford. He’s debating with the minds in the room. And these are the party regulars, the workhorses, the ones doing the precinct work, the polling, the voter registration. The ones on whom the weight of a winning campaign falls. Ifs less than a month till the election and these Democrats still haven’t made up their minds. The debate pulls to a acse. The candidates’ answers, if somewhat pedantic at times, were informative and illustrative. workers to stay and watch the immediate newscaster reactions. It was only 8:15 p.m. The place was cleared out, except for four of us, by 8:20. One of the four was James Klonoski state chairer of the Democratic party: I’d call it a draw. It was very informative. Ford had the psychological advantage of the incumbency. Also, since he assumed the office two years ago, he’s been depicted in the media as a bumbler. If he can stand up there for 1 Vz hours and not make a total clutz of himself, he gets points. “Carter was strong, though. He was playing this game in the President's backyard and I think he made points.” The lack of Carter reaction by the observers? “Carter is not a real familiar figure here. He’s not an FDR or a staunch Democrats are firmly opposed to President Ford. But Carter...here’s where the unison stops. As he explains his desire to open up the conduct of foreign affairs; to treat our allies as true friends, to desist in our support of dictatorships; to cease being “arms merchant to the world;” there is a clap here, “all right” there and the oc casional raising of a clenched fist in victory. But these are scattered and coming consistently from the same few, who are either satisfied — even enthusiastic — Carter has shown much more acute sense of the jugular, much more assertiveness, and he's lost much of that built-in Southern respect for an institution. Ford was strong despite the problem of trying to talk around a mouth ful of foot. I expected to be able to observe an enthusiastic conversation about the debate; a debate amongst these Democrats as to how badly Carter beat Ford; discussions about the next debate, anything. I expected these highly involved political JFK. He’s only been In the national spotlight for a year. “Yes, I’m comfortable with him. And I think most of the party is as comfortable with him as can be expected within one year. He’s doing alright.” I look around the deserted room, at the empty bottle of Madria Madria, and wonder. I came with visions of a culinary treat, backdropped by a crowd of wildly clapping, en thusiastic Democrats. I received neither. And I wonder about the lack of spice. '> 1 • Pirn 1 Q
