Seattle's humble birthplace has come a long way since 1851
By MARK HIGGINS 
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER
One hundred and forty-five years after the first white women stumbled ashore at Alki cold, wet and in tears, a sun-kissed woman wearing a neon-colored thong, in-line skates and little else flashes down Alki Avenue.
Heads turn. Cars slow. The hard-bodies battling in the volleyball pits stop and stare.
Alki, the humble birthplace of the city of Seattle, has come a long way since the Denny party rowed ashore in November 1851.
Its salty charms have waxed and waned since those early days but Alki has always been a special meeting place of earth, sea and sky.
Today it is on the verge of being loved to death, especially during the summer when a tsunami of renters, tourists, students and other sun and beach wor-shipers flood the neighborhood.
Its narrow streets, quaint apartment houses and cozy restaurants are easily swamped. It is as if the whole world wants to picnic, sightsee, frolic, walk the dog, join a "fun-run" or party at Alki.
"You cannot believe the amount of use our parks get by the rest of the city and the region. We have to live with that mixed blessing," said Gary Ogden, a past Alki Community Council president.
The cops have their hands full in the summer, even with the city's anti-cruising ordinance, which stopped most of the hormone-driven circling.
But bad behavior at Alki continues. Last spring, some miscreant brazenly stole the torch-bearing arm from the Lady Liberty statue, an Alki landmark donated by the Boy Scouts in the 1950s. (See background stories.)
The community outrage may have helped to convince the guilty party to return the arm. The little replica was restored and stands facing the sea across the street from Liberty Deli.
Continued:
Sunday, June 16, 2024
