4A • July 20, 2018 • Seaside Signal • seasidesignal.com
SignalViewpoints
From ‘Taxi Tales’ to Seaside’s wonders
I
’ve never worked as a taxi
driver, but I’ve taken plenty of
taxis. It’s sort of like a blind
date every time. You don’t
know who’s in the front seat
at the wheel. But before you panic,
remember the guy in front doesn’t
know who you are either.
Lou Solitske understands this
dynamic. The former taxi driver in
Sacramento, California, took the art
of taxi driving to a new high: trans-
forming it into a masterful collection
of personal essays that present the
world of taxi driving as not only one
of getting from here to there, but of
making momentary but meaningful
human connections.
It doesn’t hurt that he has a heart
of gold: “One of the things I do is get
stranded people home, regardless of
their ability to pay,” he writes in his
memoir “Taxi Tales.” “All they have
to do is let me know what’s going on
from the very beginning of the ride
and not treat me like a chump.”
Don’t worry — not too many
people took Solitske as a chump.
“I have been a night driver for
Sacramento Yellow Cab since
1987,” he writes. “Right off the bat
I found myself in bizarre, humor,
sad, thought-provoking and scary
situations.”
Solitske describes himself as
standing 6-feet-2-inches and weigh-
ing 275 pounds. “I wear black boots,
black pants, a black shirt, a black
leather vest, black fingerless gloves
and a black fedora. All in all, not a
pretty sight. My attire and demeanor
are designed to project the image that
I would be more trouble than I’m
worth.”
Frequenters of the Seaside Coffee
shop know him. He’s been spotted
walking along Broadway and U.S.
Highway 101 with a camera and long
lens. And the signature black outfit.
Taxi driver
Originally from Chicago, his
family moved to the San Fernando
Valley in 1950.
Solitske considers himself lucky
in life “from the get-go.”
“When I was born they told my
parents not to get attached to me
because I wasn’t going to last too
long.”
Solitske was born with six holes
in his ventricular septum, the wall
separating the lower chamber of the
heart.
“I had open heart surgery in 1963,
when 1 was 15, with a 75 percent
mortality rate,” he said. “I knew
what the odds were, but I made it.
Ever since then I’ve felt compelled
to give back.
SEEN FROM SEASIDE
R.J. MARX
He “escaped” in 1965 and never
came back.
With a degree in economics
from San Jose State, he went from
economics to selling pharmaceuticals
and later as a manager’s represen-
tative at the San Francisco Mer-
chandise Mart selling computers to
doctors.
He hated it — despite being the
company’s No. 1 salesman.
“They had me training new
people,” Solitske recalled. “This one
trainee said ‘I oozed sincerity and
dripped credibility.’ I was selling my
soul.”
He transitioned from sales, driv-
ing cabs at night on a part-time basis.
During those rides, he regaled pas-
sengers with words of wisdom, arias
from famous operas and recitations
of the works of Longfellow, Yeats
and Poe — and Solitske.
Despite his affinity for arts and
letters, Solitske stepped into the
good-guys-wear-black wardrobe as
a precaution in dicey neighborhoods
where customers were as likely to
pull a knife as they were a $5 bill.
“Looking like Guido the Hit Man
helped me keep alive a little bit,” he
recalled. “It was, ‘Hey, man, don’t
tread on me.’ I had six robbery at-
tempts. I was stabbed seven times.”
Driving a taxi was an opportunity
for Solitske to make money, have fun
and help people,” he said.
At the instigation of friends and
passengers, he started writing his
memories down — soon finding
enough materials to fill a book.
The project took 15 years, with the
book’s release in 2001. It continues
to sell.
Solitske’s memoirs are a little
bit Robert De Niro, a little bit Judd
Hirsch, with a lot of heart thrown in.
How many other taxi drivers
would carry a wounded owl to a
veterinary hospital? Kick bigots out
of the backseat? Offer a free ride on
Christmas? And recite poetry too?
R.J. MARX
Lou Solitske relaxes at the Seaside Coffee House.
melt away was probably the hardest
thing I’d ever done.”
Lens on life
R.J. MARX
Local artist Blue Bond posted a portrait of Lou Solitske at the Blue Bond
Gallery in Seaside.
On to Seaside
After his memoir was published,
Solitske continued driving, selling
copies of “Taxi Tales” to his custom-
ers.
“I had a captive audience,” he
smiled.
But his taxi driving days were
coming to an end as he and Jacqui
moved to Half Moon Bay, California,
on the coast about two hours from
Sacramento.
“We loved Half Moon Bay, but
she hated our home,” he said.
She also hated the heat.
They considered Portland and
Astoria before a Realtor sent them a
listing from Seaside.
“We bought it sight unseen. The
Realtor was a nervous wreck — but
it was perfect.”
They relocated in May 2015.
Tragically, Jacqui died of ALS
shortly after their move.
“I took care of her,” he said. “To
watch this capable, confident woman
Never turn your back to the ocean
hen we first moved to
the Oregon Coast, I was
bewildered by what seemed to
me a vacation-land attitude of “Enjoy
at your own risk.” Seaside has a vast
beach, but not many lifeguard stands.
Warnings are minimal regarding ability
levels on the hiking trails. Tide table
charts are sold in gas stations and gift
shops, but if you just pulled in from
Oklahoma, the words “tide table,” never
mind “rogue wave” or “sneaker wave”
don’t hold much meaning for you. A
friend who volunteered for years with
the Haystack Rock Awareness Program
told me she couldn’t get over how many
people with young children playing in
the highly changeable tide pools were
clueless of their risk for being swept out.
I grew up on the New Jersey shore
where there was no end of warnings and
supervision. During the high season,
when tourists flooded the town, water
temps and wind conditions were posted
daily. Lifeguard stands dotted the beach
every couple of hundred yards. Sig-
nage everywhere prohibited the use of
fireworks, legal or illegal; along steep
slopes and potentially treacherous foot
traffic areas, there was guard railing. At
certain times of the year when the dune
cliffs were at risk of collapsing, a surfeit
of caution tape was all around. The at-
titude towards any kind of outdoor recre-
ation, whether it be swimming, boating,
hiking, cycling, fishing, clamming, even
bird watching, you might say, was overt-
ly protectionist.
Oregon is a much wilder and freer
place than my native south Jersey. I’m
W
PUBLISHER
EDITOR
Kari Borgen
R.J. Marx
Today he can be seen walking
the streets of Seaside with a long
lens. “I’m an omnivore, I’ll gobble
up anything that gets in front of my
camera.”
Solitske describes Seaside as “a
varied and target-rich environment
for a photographer.”
Plus each camera weighs about
22 pounds. “I hump between six and
eight miles on a typical day — my
lazy day I do 10 to 15 miles. If I
don’t get my shots. I still get my
exercise.”
At 71, Solitske said, “If I don’t
use it, I’ll lose it and go right down-
hill.”
But nothing he has ever done to
allow him to help more people in des-
perate situations than driving his cab.
“It’s in the middle of the night,
I’ll have a parent call with a sick
child, or a woman is battered and
I’ve got to get her out of the situation
before he kills her or she kills him,”
Solitske said. “In situations like that
money is not important.”
Solitske said he considered
himself the luckiest driver in Sacra-
mento. “I just got these trips out of
nowhere — and I do believe it was
a result of my deposits in the karma
bank.”
“Taxi Tales” is available at
Seaside Coffee House, 5 N. Holla-
day and available on Amazon and
Kindle.
MEETINGS
VIEW FROM
THE PORCH
pretty sure if you polled most Orego-
nians, they’d say the last thing they
want is more protecting. Yet people are
killed or injured on this coast every year,
some of them deaths and injuries that,
with more warnings, might have been
avoided.
Last January, KOIN news reported a
46-year-old man visiting Lincoln City
killed by a sneaker wave. Large sneaker
waves have killed more than two dozen
people along the Oregon coast since
1990. This year, so far, there have been
a few hair-raising incidents. In January,
the Coast Guard rescued a man strand-
ed at high tide at Hug Point. Also in
January, a kayaker from Tualatin, last
seen near the estuary, tipped over and
drowned. On July 3, a hiker stranded
cliffside on Hug Point was dramatically
rescued. In February, in two separate
incidents, clam diggers who unwittingly
turned their backs to the sea were swept
out.
Signage at the Cove warns people
to beware rip currents, sneaker waves,
incoming tides, and to stay off the logs.
Prohibited activities in the Cove include
no fire building near the driftwood.
You’re not allowed to feed the wildlife
or disturb marine animals. I think that
might be better spelled out to let people
know that includes sand dollars. A sign
CIRCULATION
MANAGER
PRODUCTION
MANAGER
Jeremy Feldman
John D. Bruijn
ADVERTISING
SALES
SYSTEMS
MANAGER
April Olsen
Carl Earl
Danielle Fisher
TUESDAY, Aug. 14
Seaside City Council, 7 p.m.,
City Hall, 989 Broadway.
Seaside School District
Board of Directors, 6 p.m.,
1801 S. Franklin.
TUESDAY, July 24
EVE MARX
CLASSIFIED
SALES
MONDAY, July 23
Seaside Airport Advisory
Committee, 6 p.m., City Hall,
989 Broadway.
WEDNESDAY, Aug. 1
Seaside Improvement Com-
mission, 6 p.m., City Hall, 989
Broadway.
THURSDAY, Aug. 2
Seaside Parks Advisory
Committee, 7 p.m., City Hall,
163 E. Gower St.
TUESDAY, Aug. 7
EVE MARX
Beach warning signs in Seaside.
says fireworks are prohibited but anyone
living near the beach knows during the
summer months, this rule is violated
nightly. Once in awhile a “shark sight-
ing” sign appears. In Gearhart, there are
signs warning of elk.
Maybe as far as safety warnings go,
this is enough.
Yet I can’t shake the feeling more
care could be taken to protect visitors
who think a day at the beach is pretty
harmless. Meanwhile, stay safe, don’t
undertake water or waterside adventures
without a tide table, and whatever you
do, never, ever, turn your back to the
mighty ocean.
STAFF WRITER
Brenna Visser
CONTRIBUTING
WRITERS
Skyler Archibald
Rebecca Herren
Katherine Lacaze
Eve Marx
Esther Moberg
Jon Rahl
Seaside Community Center
Commission, 10 a.m., Bob
Chisholm Community Cen-
ter,1225 Avenue A.
Seaside Library Board, 4:30
p.m., Seaside Library, 1131
Broadway.
WEDNESDAY, Aug. 15
Seaside Tourism Advisory
Committee, 3 p.m., City Hall,
989 Broadway.
THURSDAY, Aug. 16
Seaside Tree Board, 4 p.m.,
City Hall, 989 Broadway.
Seaside Transportation Ad-
visory Commission, 6 p.m.,
City Hall, 989 Broadway.
TUESDAY, Aug. 21
Sunset Empire Park and
Recreation District, Bob
Chisholm Community Center,
5:15 p.m., 1225 Avenue A,
Seaside.
Seaside Planning Commis-
sion, work session, 7 p.m.,
City Hall, 989 Broadway.
MONDAY, Aug. 27
Seaside Planning Commis-
sion, 7 p.m., City Hall, 989
Broadway.
Seaside City Council, 7 p.m.,
City Hall, 989 Broadway.
TUESDAY, Sept. 4
THURSDAY, Aug. 9
Gearhart Planning Commis-
sion, 6 p.m., 698 Pacific Way,
Gearhart.
Seaside Community Center
Commission, 10 a.m., Bob
Chisholm Community Cen-
ter,1225 Avenue A.
MONDAY, Aug. 13
Seaside Library Board, 4:30
p.m., Seaside Library, 1131
Broadway.
Seaside City Council, 7 p.m.,
City Hall, 989 Broadway.
Seaside Signal
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