4A • November 16, 2018 | Cannon Beach Gazette | cannonbeachgazette.com
Views from the Rock
THE SMILE GUYS
W
hat makes you smile?
For everybody it’s a
little different. Some people
like baby animals. Others
chuckle over sound effects.
Me, the thought of a Chicago-style hot
dog. A comfort food extraordinaire,
food of my youth, a meal (replete with
veggies: tomato, pickle, peppers) on a
poppy seed bun.
That’s why when I first moved here
I made it a point to visit Jim Mudd
of Manzanita, whose Chicago-style
hot dog cart was parked on Laneda
to serve up the Windy’s City comfort
food. It was a great dog: Mudd had the
knack and I was an immediate fan.
Little did I know the epic impact
that Mudd, who died on Oct. 1 had
on people in the region, especially in
Tillamook, our neighboring county
to the south. James “Jim” Malburn
Mudd, the self-proclaimed “Manzanita
Man of the Century,” according to his
obituary, dedicated himself to making
others happy.
He shared a smile for everyone and
his self-proclaimed motto was: “Life
doesn’t get any better than this.”
In 1990, Mudd and his friend Doug
Nicholson, who had met as students
at Oregon State University, decided
to launch a coed golf tournament,
which they christened the “Mudd Nick
Invitational.”
The founders opened their arms
to both OSU and rival U of O, with a
duck dressed as a beaver the logo, sat-
isfying alumni of both schools, report-
ed the Tillamook Headlight-Herald.
The invitational was a hit early
on, and Jim’s wife Lynn proposed the
Mudd Nick charity golf tournament as
an annual event.
The first tournament took place in
1993 and the nonprofit Mudd Nick
Foundation formed in 2006.
Since that time, the foundation has
raised more than $1.4 million. Funds
support up to 50 educational and recre-
ational programs every year.
A former Bridgestone executive,
Mudd and his family “moved all over
the coast” before settling in Manzanita.
After frequent trips to Chicago, his
love affair with Chicago-style hot dogs
began.
“When we retired, we came out
here,” he told me over an all-beef
Vienna frank in the summer of 2016.
“This was my parents’ home. Since
this is the last chapter of my life,
I thought what can I do to help? I
thought we could open a hot-dog
stand, a Chicago-deal like I’ve eaten
all my life, and we’d draw people in
and we’d talk about the Mudd Nick
Foundation.”
As he envisioned, the hot dogs
drew people in, and Mudd spread the
word to the benefit of arts and human-
ities.
Donations for science, technology,
engineering and math, higher educa-
tion and careers, camps, literacy, sports
came in from around the world.
The foundation continues to benefit
children with special needs, the talent-
ed and the gifted, providing “learning
experiences that stimulate children to
aspire to their greatest potential and
pursue their dreams.”
“It’s been a great ride,” he said in
2016.
The ‘gurgle pot king’
I didn’t know what a “gurgle pot”
was until I read about Richard Ortez.
Ortez was the subject of many
newspaper articles for the pots that
made a distinctive “glug glug” sound
when they poured. The gurgling
reminded me of the character “Ix” my
EVE MARX
A family souvenir finds a home in coastal Oregon.
Souvenir from
another world
I
R.J. MARX/CANNON BEACH GAZETTE
Jim Mudd serves up a culinary classic.
CANNON SHOTS
R.J. MARX
dad invented to my delight when I was
three or four, an ulular sound (“ung-
diddy-ung-diddy”) that could reduce
me to uncontrollable laughter.
Ortez had that effect on people —
delighting customers at Sabra J.’s Attic
in Cannon Beach since its opening in
1998.
Ortez died Sept. 4 in his King City
home.
Born in 1936 in Los Angeles, Ortez
was a sergeant in the Marine Corps
and stationed in Camp Pendleton,
California, and Okinawa, Japan.
He was an expert instructor and
mechanic of amphibious landing vehi-
cles and tanks.
He married his wife of 62 years,
Diane Porterfield, in Los Angeles.
The couple had four children
in California before moving to the
Portland area in the 1980s, where he
was the top performing salesman of
heavy-duty brakes for a Fortune 500
company.
Richard and Diane became ministry
leaders for Worldwide Marriage En-
counter and Walk To Emmaus before
they opened up their Cannon Beach
store, “with no experience, just (our)
faith,” Diane said in 2015.
Sabra J.’s Attic — named after
Diane’s great-grandmother — became
a destination antique and gift store,
with a specialty in the aforementioned
gurgle pots, fish-shaped pitchers that
make a whimsical gurgling noise
when pouring, modeled after an 1885
invention.
Richard Ortez became known as the
“gurgle pot king.”
Between 2008 and 2011 alone, he
estimated he sold 1,200 gurgle pots.
“People always commented when
they came in that they just felt the
peace,” Diane Ortez said. “No matter
how tired I was or what was going on,
whenever I would go in and walk into
that shop it would feel like I was in a
different, wonderful place.”
The couple sold the original store
on Beaver Street in June 2014. That
store became Harding’s Trading Co.
FILE PHOTO
Richard Ortez and Chloe keep watch
at Sabra J’s Attic in Cannon Beach.
and they moved next door, where they
continued to do business.
Richard Ortez had more than his
share of challenges: a cancer diagno-
sis, and a fall that left him confined to
a wheelchair.
That didn’t stop him from spread-
ing life’s joy.
After his fall, his mission remained
“to make people laugh and smile,”
Diane Ortez said in a 2015 interview.
With a singing voice “like Frank
Sinatra,” he offered a song with every
gurgle pot sold.
The store carried three sizes. Each
one came with a song — sung by Or-
tez — and a history lesson of the pot.
Ortez sold 42 gurgle pots in one
shot to one customer at one point.
In recent years, he became a
welcome face at Fred Meyer in War-
renton, offering a “smile award” to
‘‘people who smile with their whole
face.”
“He gives out the awards because
he knows ‘how a little compliment
just changes somebody,’” the Daily
Astorian’s Elleda Wilson wrote in a
2015 profile. “You might also get one
if you look like you could use a smile.
After all, who needs it more?”
“Richard really loved life and lived
it to the fullest,” Diane Ortez recalled
shortly after her husband’s passing.
“He did his best to uplift others, and
touched many lives. He will be dearly
missed by family and friends.”
For those who love to laugh, the
loss of two of the South County’s
happiest fellows will be felt. We need
them more than ever.
was messaging with my cousin J., who is not a blood
relative but a cousin through marriage. She lives in
South Africa, where she was born and raised. We came
to know each other in the late 1970s when she began
her legal immigration process to become a U.S. citizen;
her first step was becoming a New York nanny. It was a
volatile political time in South Africa and Jill was running
away from apartheid, looking to spread her wings and fly
away from the life her family hoped and planned for her as
a card-carrying member of the Cape Town bourgeoisie.
We were introduced at the Manhattan apartment of
her cousin, Z., who was married to B., my mother’s baby
brother. B. and Z.
were obviously
quite a bit older
VIEW FROM
and had a young
son, L., who was at THE PORCH
the time in primary EVE MARX
school. Although
still her early 20s,
J. seemed to me so
sophisticated and self-assured. And she was traveled; after
all, just to get to New York, she’d already traveled halfway
around the world.
J. had seen London. She might have seen France. She
spoke a highly accented South African English and was
fluent in Afrikaans. Her circle of expat friends her own age
in New York were an urbane crowd.
The first time J. and I got together outside B. and Z.’s
apartment, we met at an Italian coffee shop in Greenwich
Village. The first thing I noticed was she rolled her own
cigarettes. I still remember the shock of seeing her pull a
little pouch of tobacco and a packet of rolling papers from
her shoulder bag.
“It’s not pot,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
J. and I became friends. She liked spending time in
my apartment. She finished out her nanny contract and
secured an apartment of her own on lower Fifth Avenue.
Her place was really tiny. It had once been a very snug
hotel room. The kitchen was inside a closet which was OK
because J. didn’t eat or cook. For awhile she dated a film
producer friend of my cop boyfriend who had a rule about
the women he went out with. The rule was they couldn’t
weigh more than 100 pounds.
Things went the way they often do for young women.
We got married and had kids. I moved to the suburbs an
hour north of the city; J. moved to Staten Island. Once
a year we met Manhattan in November to celebrate our
birthdays, which are two days apart. Our rendezvous al-
ways took place at a tiny bistro on Cornelia Street so small
the new smoking laws didn’t apply.
J.’s father passed away, and for awhile she went home
to South Africa. When she returned to New York, she
brought back some of his small things, among them a
rather imposing paper clip. It’s embossed with the word
“Greece” and appears to be handpainted. Her father likely
picked it up on one of his work-related travels. It’s got
potential as a handy weapon; for example, if you struck
someone in the throat or temple with it, you’d cause a
lot of damage. I was very surprised and honored one day
when it arrived in the mail, along with a note from J.
saying she wanted me to have one of her dad’s treasured
desk items.
That was well over a dozen years ago. J. didn’t stay
married. Her son grew up. She moved back to South Afri-
ca. We still communicate, although mostly via Facebook
message. Today, as I am writing this, is her birthday. I’m
not sure if J. still smokes (she probably does); the paper
clip, by the way, has never left my desk. I’ve never used it
to clip paper, but it feels good in the hand.
I think J., who is a legal U.S. citizen with a dual pass-
port who came back to the U.S. last week to vote, would
appreciate that.
LETTERS
Nehemiah Project
If you were in downtown Can-
non Beach on the sunny Friday
afternoon of Nov. 9, you most
likely saw or were approached by
a group of people on a scavenger
hunt from The Nehemiah Project
International, Inc. They were in
town for a staff retreat. Part of
the scavenger hunt was to find
the oldest candy store and take a
picture with a city official and a
veteran.
The staff represented people
from different regions of the world,
Such as the founders Patrice and
Publisher
Kari Borgen
Editor
R.J. Marx
Circulation
Manager
Jeremy Feldman
Production
Manager
John D. Bruijn
Gina Tsaque from Cameroon and
Haiti, along with other staff from
Mexico, North America, the Pacif-
ic Northwest and Malaysia. It was
challenging for a few members of
the team since English was not
their first language. But everyone
they approached were welcoming
and helpful. The Nehemiah Proj-
ect is a business development and
support organization that works in
partnership with churches, mar-
ketplace ministries, educational
institutions, associations and in-
dividuals around the world. They
train and support kingdom com-
panies through biblical entrepre-
Advertising Sales
Holly Larkins
Classified Sales
Danielle Fisher
Staff writer
Brenna Visser
Contributing
writers
Rebecca Herren
Katherine Lacaze
Eve Marx
Nancy McCarthy
neurship training, coaching and
access to capital.
Nora Goodman
Cannon Beach
Trap, neuter and return
My stepdaughter and her mom of-
ten vacation on the West Coast not far
from your city. They made me aware
of your over abundance of bunnies and
also gave me part of the article from
Oct. 19.
I agree, it would be a shame to
round up the rabbits and shoot them.
The article said you were looking for
ideas and I may have one for you.
CANNON BEACH GAZETTE
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Postage Paid at: Cannon Beach,
OR 97110
To humanely take care of com-
munity cats, dedicated people use
trap-neuter-return. Community cats are
cats and kittens with no homes, who
are attached to each other and to where
they live. Kitties over eight weeks of
age are trapped, taken to participating
vets, humane societies, etc. There, they
are neutered, given thorough physical
exams and treated if need be. Then
they are returned to their community.
In the case of the kitties, people often
feed them and provide for their needs
during cold winters and hot summers.
Something similar to trap, neuter
and return might be useful for your
bunny population. In your situation,
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food is less of a problem. You might be
able to fund this through normal dona-
tions to animal societies or perhaps by
a Go Fund Me page.
There are several organizations
that support TNR across the nation
and around the world. Two that come
to mind and that might be able to
help are:
Best Friends Animal Society,
Kanub, Utah: bestfriends.org/straycats.
Alley Cat Allies, Bethesda, Mary-
land: alleycat.org.
I hope this information is helpful.
Good luck.
Karen Seligman
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
THE NATIONAL AWARD-WINNING